“Colter,” Murphy interrupted. “What did you want to discuss?”
“Right.” Colter cracked his knuckles. “I did some digging, like you asked, to look into possible reasons Nessa could be immune to compulsion.”
“You found something?” Nessa leaned forward in her seat, the leather chair creaking as she moved.
“I did.” Colter pulled out a phone from his back pocket, unlocking the screen. “Finding out Angelo was similarly resistant to compulsion helped me narrow things down. Your grandfather moved to America from Siquijor, right?”
“Yeah.” Nessa tried not to wince at the way he’d butchered the word. Siquijor was a smaller island in the Philippines, though she’d never been there. However, she had heard all the stories.“My mom visited some of our extended family when she was a teenager, but as far as I know, none of them are alive anymore. It’s just me and Angelo left.”
“I don’t have anything concrete,” Colter continued, “but there are rumors and stories all over the internet about shamans and mysticism within Siquijor. Apparently, the island is a hotbed of paranormal activity.”
Nessa furrowed her brow. “What are you implying?”
“He thinks you’re a witch,” Murphy breathed. “Or, at least, you’re a descendant of witches.”
A witch?!
Her jaw nearly fell to the floor.
“Exactly.” Colter handed Nessa his phone, the screen displaying an article about recent spiritual activity that had taken place on the island. “I definitely think your ancestors were magic users, and while it’s gone unpracticed or been drastically diluted in your lineage for some time, you and Angelo both have nullifying abilities.”
“Meaning …”
“You’re not just immune to compulsion. You’re immune to magic. Specifically, magic used against you. It’s a rare gift.”
Nessa stared at Colter in shock, unsure of how to respond. She was a freaking witch? The notion was laughable—she couldn’t cast spells! But there had to be a reason she couldn’t be compelled. A supernatural cause was as probable as any other.
Buta witch … Wow.
“Thank you, Colter,” Murphy stated, clapping the male on the shoulder. “I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
Nessa glanced up between him and Colter in disbelief. They both seemed so calm about this. But then, of course, they were! They were frickenshifters!
“Do you want me to keep looking into other explanations?”
“Yes. Until we’re certain what’s caused this, I want all the information you can get me.”
Colter agreed, and then left the office, closing the door softly behind him.
Murphy turned to her then. “That was—”
“A lot? Crazy? Unfreakingbelievable? I agree.” Nessa jumped up from her seat, feeling suddenly jittery. “I didn’t expect him to tell us anything like that.”
“Me, either,” Murphy answered, pulling her into his arms. She went with him happily, relaxing her body against his. She’d never tire of being held like this, of feeling protected and cherished with so simple a touch. “Does it frighten you?”
“Hm?”
“Knowing you may be a supernatural creature, like me,” he clarified.
“Frighten me? No. I’m kind of irritated that I could have had some badass magic but instead I just have a ‘nullifying’ power. With a ‘power’ like that, evenifI am a witch, I’m pretty much still human. That’s so lame.” She wrinkled her nose. “Shouldn’t you be able to smell the witchiness on me anyway?” she added.
Did witches smell different from humans?
“The witchiness? I suppose it’s possible.” Murphy dropped his face into the hollow of her neck, inhaling loudly. “Don’t smell it here.” He moved to the other side, licking her mating mark. “Not here either.”
He lifted her off her feet, burying his face between her breasts as he sat her on his desk. He inhaled again, and then nipped at her breast through her shirt. She gasped, her panties dampening as arousal dripped from her center.
“Murphy, we have guests,” she admonished, her cheeks heating even as she arched her back in response. “They’ll hear us.”
