‘Only my ego.’
Bless this man. He loved me more than anyone I’d ever met. We both stepped into the house just as my phone beeped with a text. I checked it quickly, worried it was the detective or Cass.
Detective Swanson:‘Calls have quadrupled. Multiple murder suicides. Meet me at the station in an hour.’
Fuck!
I relayed the information to Brock mentally as I tried to school my features. If the Blacks knew I was desperate, they would use that against me.
“Evie Black! My, my…” Aunt Bertie called as I walked into the kitchen. “Grab a piping bag if you’re staying. You’ll pay your dues.”
Didn’t I always… “Yes, auntie.” I tried not to growl.
Johnny grinned at how quickly I caved into her.
Fucker.
“She’s pregnant with the werewolf’s baby. Probably needs an abortion spell,” Johnny told his mother.
My eyes bugged, and a low growl rumbled in Brock’s throat. Reaching out, I grabbed the skin on the back of Brock’s head and yanked because I knew he was two seconds from jumping.
“Actually, we’re very happy for the baby’s arrival,” I corrected Johnny with a warning tone.
Johnny shrugged, but Bertie had yet to look at me, working away at icing her cookies. “So, you don’t invite me to my sister’s funeral and now you’ve surely only come because you want something. If not an abortion, then what?”
I released Brock’s head and started to pipe cookies, because this mad woman would chastise me if I didn’t multitask. “Well…” Fuck these assholes, it was time to brag about what I was and how much magic I actually carried.
“I’m actually not a dud.” I dropped the icing onto the cluttered counter and crossed my arms. “I’m a kitsuneanda witch, and I guard the gate to the underworld, which is on my gran’s land. Earlier today, a fog demon broke through, and now it’s affecting the town. I have three witches already, but I need seven more for a ten-point pentacle spell to vanquish the fog.”
Silence.
Bertie had stopped icing, and even Johnny leaned forward from where he was perched against the island in the middle of the kitchen.
“Kitsune…” Bertie was staring off into space. “But you’ve also got the Black family magic?” She grinned.
I nodded. “And my mother’s grimoire. I’m not that great yet, but yeah.”
Bertie opened her arms and moved toward me. “I knew your granny’s magic didn’t die with your mother.” She pulled me into a hug as my brow creased in confusion.
Being helpful for once, Johnny explained: “When Aunt Belinda left, she pulled her magic from the Black Coven. It was still there, but weak. When your mom died, it got weaker, then a couple of months ago it nearly completely died out with Belinda’s passing. But only for a few days, because then it flared to life stronger than ever.”
My jaw popped open. It was only a couple days after Gran’s funeral that I got my katana and my witch magic awoke. That’s what they felt flare to life. Me. I got Gran's magic.
Bertie pulled back and rubbed my belly. “And this little baby Black is going to be powerful too. I can feel it.”
It took everything in me not to push her away. The Blacks were magic elitists, always had been. Now that they knew I had power, they would be after some of it for sure.
“So you’ll help me?” Damn, I didn’t even have to offer to pay them or anything.
Bertie pulled back and nodded happily, almost looking like an innocent old lady for a few seconds. “Of course dear … under a few conditions.”
Brock growled low in his throat, and Johnny took a step closer to my alpha. I stepped away from my aunt and closer to Brock. “What kind of conditions?”
I should have known. Money, power, and magic. That’s all the Blacks cared about.
“All I ask is that you and the baby come around more. Once a week to play with your cousins.” Her voice was sweet, but I knew there was an underlying motive. There wasalwaysan underlying motive with the Blacks.
Johnny nodded. “I have a wife and two kids now. My youngest is three months old.”
