“Will do,” Paul said, before heading for the galley where he secured everything there before belting himself into a jump seat nearby.
Turning to the window, Glenn looked at the New York skyline, feeling the edginess of his animal that always occurred when there were too many people around. Solitary by nature, his tiger preferred a real jungle instead of the concrete jungle of the city, but fuck it, it couldn’t be helped this time. His mother had been taken captive by unknown perpetrators for unknown reasons and his tiger would just have to suck it up.
Even before the plane had stopped rolling, Glenn was standing at the cabin door, bag in hand, ready to get off and begin searching. While waiting, his mind reviewed the orders he’d emailed to the agents assigned to him. If they followed them, he’d have a huge head start in locating his mother. But then, remembering these were the same fuckers who let his mother be taken, he wasn’t counting on them to be on the ball; he’d be surprised if they’d done everything he’d ordered them to.
When the door opened, Glenn thanked Paul before sprinting down the steps, stopping at the bottom for a moment until he spied a car parked near the hanger. Jogging over to it, he spotted two agents waiting for him,the driver in the front seat and another one holding open the rear door, “Do you have the information I asked for?”
“Yes, sir. Agent Singer is waiting to brief you.”
Grunting in acknowledgement, Glenn climbed in. As the car sped away, he growled at the agent now sitting beside him, “Show me what you have.”
~/~/~/~/~
Standing guard on a hill overlooking the cozy cottage, Mystia watched until the only light she could see came from an upstairs window. Then, unwilling to delay any further, she cast a spell, hiding the magic signatures of everyone inside from the curious. It wouldn’t last long but, hopefully, long enough to throw anyone off the track who traced the light sphere to France, causing them to bypass Chateau des Flammes and look elsewhere.
Now, Mystia would remain there through the night, making sure no evil could touch Carson’s mate. Smiling, she thought about what she learned about Remy Marchant since arriving earlier. Disguising herself, Mystia wandered around the estate, finding he was well-liked by the workers—a fair boss, always willing to listen and help any who were in need. But as good as that was, it didn’t compare to what she heard from Mrs. Beasly. An hour spent sitting with her in the park while Remy’s brothers played eased Mystia’s mind about who Remy really was; the Fates had picked the perfect warlock on which to bestow such a gift.
How he escaped the attention of the Witches’ Governing Council all these years was beyond her, but once Oracle arrived, Mystia intended to do some research into Remy’s background. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was responsible for the last light sphere detected many years ago—which would be even more amazing consideringthe little magic he had. But that would all have to wait. Tonight, at least, Remy and his brothers would be protected by her magic, keeping them out of harm’s way.
Undressing for bed, Remy felt magic caress his skin, sending tiny arrows into his soul. Stopping, he closed his eyes, concentrating on which brother was responsible. It wouldn’t be the first time he caught one of them playing with their magic, but he wasn’t in the mood for any shenanigans now. Reaching out with his mind, he frowned, realizing it was coming from outside the house.
Slipping his clothes back on, Remy snuck out of his house to find the origin of the spell he felt. Whoever it was didn’t belong on the chateau’s property, making him worry about the safety of his brothers. Protected by the darkness of a moonless night sky and the rows of grape vines, he quietly circled around until he was behind the source of the magic. It wasn’t until he was standing there that he realized how dumb a move it was to put himself in danger, especially after what he’d discovered at the winery that morning. Mentally shaking his head, Remy reached out, connecting with the intruder’s magic field. What was he going to do if he found it was black magic, something he had no control over?This is dumb, dumb, dumb.
Giving an inaudible sigh of relief at not finding signs of black magic, Remy quickly withdrew his hand. The person wasn’t here to harm him or his brothers and Remy felt better about his decision to confront the magic user. “Who are you and why are you trespassing?” he demanded, using his most authoritative voice.
Swirling around, Mystia found a man standing behind her. Stunned that he’d sneaked up on her without her knowing it, she said the first thing that came to mind. “How did you do that?”
“Do what?” Remy asked, perplexed by the question.
“Appear without me sensing you.”
Shrugging, Remy ignored her question, unwilling to disclose to a witch how little magic he truly had…a witch, he surmised, who possessed a great deal more. “You didn’t answer my question…who are you and why are you here?”
“I’m Mystia and I’m here to protect you. Do you mind if we go inside your house? I think it would be safer for you if we continued this discussion there.”
Remy studied the witch, considering her request. With all the shifters around, he agreed with her assessment about keeping any further discussions between them private, but whether he trusted her was still an unknown. His brothers were sleeping in the house and…
“I’m not a danger to your brothers,” Mystia said, correctly identifying Remy’s hesitation.
“Yes, but you saying that doesn’t make it true.”
Tilting her head slightly in acknowledgement, Mystia said, “Your mate is under my protection.”
Startled, Remy’s eyes narrowed. “What mate?”
“Carson Blackwood,” Mystia replied. “You know he’s your mate…I can see it reflected in your face. Now, please, may we go inside…I have much to tell you.”
Frowning slightly, Remy decided to trust his gut which told him this witch meant no harm, but whether he’d like to hear what she was going to tell him…well that was a whole different matter.“Okay, follow me,” he said, turning on his heels and heading back to his house.
~/~/~/~/~
Driving past the address Zane had extracted from the cab’s GPS, Dylon circled the block, checking out the neighborhood. Seedy and rundown—a perfect place to keep Willow since no one would think twice about someone carrying an unconscious woman into the building. And as much as that pissed him off, Dylon acknowledged it could work in their favor. Screams and thumps would only cause residents to turn up the sound on their TVs to drown out the noise.
Picking a spot near the front door, Dylon parked the car. Turning off the engine, he swiveled in his seat until he could see Cody and Zane. “This is going to take some time since we don’t know which apartment Willow is in. We’ll do one floor at a time.”
“We could split up,” Zane said. “Each take a floor. Cover more ground.”
“Normally, I’d agree,” Dylon said, “but not this time. Too many unknowns so it’s better if we stick together. Once we locate her, I need you, Zane to ghost walk Cody, who’ll be invisible, through the apartment door and then quickly come back out.”
