Chapter Eight
“You two better comeback to me safe, or I’ll show you the real power of a pissed-off witch.”Saffron’s own voice echoed in her head, sharp and desperate, the words she’d flung through the phone as the alarm klaxon blared in the firehouse behind her men.She could still see Nolan’s cocky grin and Isaac’s steady promise as red lights flashed over their faces—and then they had left.Running into danger where others would run from it.Her heart had dropped like a stone in her chest, fear spiking so hard she could hardly breathe.It wasn’t bravado, wasn’t nerves.She had a very bad feeling about all of this.
She sat frozen, staring at the dark screen of her phone.Her hands trembled, and she forced them flat against the table.Her magic stirred restlessly, coiling beneath her skin like a storm waiting for her to break.She wanted to chase after them, to drag them back safe by sheer force of will.
Ursula’s voice cut through.“What is it, Saffie?What’s wrong?”
Saffron dragged her eyes to her sister witch.“It’s them.I have a bad feeling.Not just nerves.Something bad is going to happen, I can feel it, but I can’t explain how.”
Jacob, leaning in the doorway, frowned deeply.“Is it the bond?Are they in trouble already?”
“I don’t know,” Saffron admitted, her voice cracking.“But my chest feels like it’s full of stones.I can’t shake it.”
Liam crossed the room in two strides, his wolf close to the surface.“Then it’s not nothing.We trust your instincts, Saff.We’ve seen what happens when we don’t.”
Ursula’s chair scraped back.She didn’t hesitate.“Then we move.Witches don’t ignore gut feelings.That isn’t just you—it’s the Goddess warning us.”
Willow shot to her feet.“What do you need us to do?”
“Find them,” Saffron said.“Find out where they’ve been sent.”
Ursula strode to the corner of the tattoo parlor where an old radio sat, its casing scarred, its dials worn smooth.She flipped it on.It wasn’t for music—it was tuned to emergency services, something Ursula always kept close.Static hissed before a dispatcher’s voice filled the room.
“Engine 14 responding, structure fire, three-story office with apartments above.Multiple calls reporting fire showing on arrival.Command is established at East Ninth and Ash.”
Saffron’s blood went cold.That was only a handful of blocks away.
“Fully involved already?”Ursula muttered.“That’s too fast.”
Saffron stood, her knees threatening to buckle.“It’s them.The Council.I know it.We have to go.”
The women piled into the first taxi they could flag down, cramming shoulder to shoulder, while Jacob and Liam shifted, wearing a talisman that would keep them invisible to anyone looking, and they made their way to the fire in their wolf forms.The city blurred past, sirens screaming in the distance as engines converged.None of them spoke at first, the silence sharp with fear.
Then, halfway there, Saffron cried out as pain lanced through her side, sharp and merciless.She gasped, clutching her ribs as her breath stuttered.
“Nolan,” she whispered.“He’s hurt.”
Willow grabbed her hand.“How do you know?”
Saffron’s eyes blurred with tears.“I can feel him.Through the bond.He’s hurt, his side and his chest, he can’t breathe.”
Brielle’s hand covered hers, her young magic sparking uncontrolled but fierce.“Then let us help.Show us how.”
They joined hands in the rattling backseat, four witches pressing palms together.Saffron pulled at the bond, reaching for her wolves, pouring everything she had into them.It felt like being ripped in two, her magic funneling through her chest into a lifeline of heat and light.She heard Nolan’s grunt, Isaac’s snarl, then her own scream as her energy drained away.
“Take it,” she cried.“Take everything.”
