Max spent almost half an hour drooling over the wide selection of sketchbooks, paint pens, felt-tip pens, alcohol markers, acrylic markers—every type of pen and pencil he’d ever wanted to get his hands on.
Quinn, having finished programming Max’s new phone and adding their contacts, grew tired of waiting and started grabbing one of everything despite Max’s weak protests.
Honestly, he couldn’t find the will to protest much more when said protests had been summarily ignored for hours. And he wanted the art supplies. He clutched the bag to his chest as they headed back to the car, only to nearly run into Caius when he stopped, a low, feral growl rumbling out of him. Max backpedaled into Quinn, who caught him and nudged him to the side.
Max risked leaning around Caius to see what was going on, expecting to see his father or his men, but all he saw was a guy in torn jeans and a loose black hoodie. He couldn’t have been older than Max, but he was a mage. Max could feel it. A strange pressure in the air, like a storm about to break. The fact that the falling snow swirled away from the guy as if blown by a wind might have been another clue.
“Who’s that?”
Quinn growled, shifting to put himself partially in front of Max. “Someone from the Order.”
Fuck.
“You’re not taking him,” Caius snarled.
The man held his hands up as he strolled closer. “Just here for a look, wolf.” He flicked two fingers in a clear order for Caius to step aside.
Caius tensed, his growl deepening as he adjusted his stance as if to fight.
Max took an involuntary step back as he realized that’s exactly what Caius intended to do. Something rippled along the edge of his senses, a twist of energy gathering around Caius, though he couldn’t tell if it came from the shifter or the mage. No, it was definitely from the mage.
“Stop it!” he yelled, silently cursing himself even as he waved a hand, like that would do anything to dispel the strange energy. He was not prepared for the surge of heat that rushed through him, unleashing itself in a wave of flames.
They ripped through the air, tearing apart the energy pressing around Caius before swirling over their heads and diving for the mage.
With a shocked curse, the man threw his hands up. Fire wrapped around him in a tunnel of blinding orange flames that circled higher like a tiny tornado. A moment later, it dispersed with a sharp crack like thunder, the snow around them turning to freezing rain that reached all the way to the edge of the parking lot.
The man glowered at them, his clothes smoking and a small lick of fire still flickering in his hair, but otherwise unharmed. “You,” he snarled, fresh flames of his own cascading around his hands as he stepped towards Max.
Caius stalked forward to stop him. “Attacking us would be a violation of Article 29, section 4B.”
The man stopped, flicking a frustrated, wary glance at Caius. “You’re military?”
“The mage is bound to me and my pack. Tell the Order to fuck off.”
He sneered, lifting his chin but snuffing his flames. “You won’t be able to keep him.”
“Try me.” Whatever face Caius made, the man paled in response and stepped back with his hands splayed.
With a last considering look at Max, the man turned. A translucent doorway appeared in the air in front of him and he stepped through before both vanished.
Quinn let out a gusty breath and sagged against Max.
“Car. Now,” Caius ordered.
Max was all too happy to oblige, hurrying to the car with Quinn still holding on to him. Once on the road, he glanced behind them, expecting to see another doorway appear or a black SUV following them. “That was bad, right?”
Caius growled. “We should have had another day or two. Either the shield the healer put on you wore off, or she sold us out.”
“No way is our place gonna be safe now if they found him already,” Quinn murmured.
Caius hissed before swearing and pulling out his phone. When the line connected, he said, “The Order found Max. Did you ever get in contact with Rían?”
Chapter 7
LUKAS SATon the sofa with a cup of coffee early the next morning. He’d texted Rían two days ago, then again yesterday after the attack, but he still hadn’t gotten a response. He knew the mage wasn’t dead only because his messages were marked read, but he must have been neck-deep in a job if he hadn’t responded by now.
He only knew two other mages well enough to have their contact information, but he didn’t trust them half as much as he did Rían.
