His Thunderbird barked and clawed beneath his skin. Troy wanted to kick his own ass for having to do it, but he had no choice. From the second he’d lifted his sweet-smelling mate off the floor, he knew he was fucked.

  He’d noted the pentagram had been drawn on the floor with salt, chalk, and ash. She’d trapped herself? Hmm. She must not be a seasoned Witch to have gotten herself stuck like this.

  That could be a good thing. He shook his head as he took a moment to savor the feel of her in his arms. Not wanting to be inappropriate in the least, he placed her gently near the pipe before taking her wrists in his hands.

  Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. She turned her head, burrowing her nose into the rough skin and smattering of hair covering his chest. A soft moan escaped her pretty lips and she exhaled, calm once more. His mate sought comfort in his nearness, a fact that made his chest swell with pride. He looked down at her perfect face, tracing every line with his eyes. He froze as his gaze met her emerald eyes, now wide open.

  “Who are you?” She murmured just as he clicked the cuffs in place.

  The woman screamed and struggled, and Troy stood up. His lips made a thin line as he waited for her to cease her movements.

  “What the fuck are you doing, mister? And why are you naked?”

  “Stop screaming.”

  “Stop screaming. Are you insane? Who the fuck are you, buddy?”

  “Relax. You are in my custody now.”

  “What? Why? Are you some kind of naked neighborhood police?”

  He frowned and lifted the grimoire in his hand, noting her shocked eyes. She struggled against the pipe where he’d cuffed her. The scent of her fear and anxiety filled the air.

  Not good. He didn’t want her afraid. It agitated him. A low growl erupted from his throat.

  “Look, I don’t know who you are, but first, you need to drop that book inside the circle with the star in it that’s on the floor over there. Then you might want to get some clothes on, okay?” Her wide green eyes flitted from the book, to him, and to the floor.

  She bit her lips nervously, her eyes unable to remain downcast, she lifted them only to peak at him. Troy bit back his grin. So, his little mate liked his body. That was pretty fucking okay with him. He stood taller.

  “The grimoire has been contained. What is your name?” He kept his voice even as he spoke.

  The last thing he wanted was to cause her anymore anxiety or grief. His mate was fierce, he’d give her that, she continued to struggle against the reinforced handcuffs when she remembered to stop ogling him. So damn cute, he thought.

  “Please, sit still. You will injure yourself.”

  “What do you mean contained? Seriously, don’t you have underwear at least?”

  A deep frown marred her otherwise perfect face and Troy stopped breathing as he finally got a good look at her. Oh damn. She was beautiful.

  At five and a half feet tall, he’d guessed her height when he’d held her in his arms, she was short compared to him. Not that he minded at all. He liked her height.

  Not to mention, her body. She was deliciously curvy, with tempting dips and valleys her clothing failed to conceal. He couldn’t wait to explore every single inch of her.

  Her skin was fair, the palest ivory he’d ever seen. Blemish free and smooth as silk. He wondered how it would look up against his much darker, coppery skin tone. The mental image made his mouth water.

  It burned in his mind as he took in the rest of her. Her hair was thick and glossy, a riot of dark girls hanging past her shoulders. He wanted to tug on a lock just to watch it spring back up again. But it was her eyes that truly captivated him. They were like emeralds. A true deep, green that sparkled in the dim light. Fuck and damn. She was absolutely gorgeous.

  “I said, what the fuck are you staring at? Uncuff me!” She narrowed her eyebrows and he wanted to grin as her lower lip jutted out slightly from the top one. He practically drooled, wanting to test their softness.

  “What is your name?”

  “I’m not telling you shit.”

  “Your name?” He used his sternest voice and almost grinned when it looked like she’d curse at him again.

  Instead, she rolled her eyes like a bratty teenager and held her head up high when she answered, despite her position handcuffed to a pipe amidst the remnants of whatever Dark spell she’d been trying to perform. Troy sobered at the thought.

  “Andrea. Andrea Kristos,” she murmured, clearly disgruntled at the entire situation.

  “Sit still, Andrea Kristos. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Troy tried to ignore her voice as she called him any number of names. It was deep and sexy. He needed to hear her scream his name in that husky little voice. What would she look like in the throes of passion? Oh great, now I’m hard again.

  He grabbed an old afghan off the couch and draped it around his hips as he walked into the cold night air to his car.

  He hated that he left her handcuffed to that rusty old pipe in the attic. Fuck and damn, he growled as he stomped over to his SUV. He used the key fob to unlock the vehicle and opened the trunk.

  First, he placed the contained grimoire into the magically enhanced lock box that was hidden under the carpet in said trunk. Rex had made sure each Warden had one installed in their vehicles. Just in case they needed to transport magical items or artifacts. As Wardens of Terra, they were trained to handle most any event.

  Except meeting your mate, he thought wryly. He grabbed his duffle bag and an extra pair of boots. He slammed the trunk closed. The SUV barely moved under his strength. Damn thing was a tank in disguise. Lucky for him, it had an extra passenger row. He’d need it since he was bringing someone back to his station.

  My mate. No, a prisoner. Fuck and damn again.

  Troy cursed and stomped back to the house. As he dressed, he pictured her upstairs. What kind of mess was she involved in? What were the Fates thinking?

  The woman inside, Andrea Kristos, drew him like a moth to a flame. He’d never felt anything like it. The mating pull was a fucking force and a half.

  Sure, he’d had several casual encounters with the opposite sex before, but they were forgotten the second he scented her. She was everything.

  The need to claim her was all-consuming. From the top of her curly head to the bottom of her tiny feet he wanted to hold her, touch her. He needed to, like he needed air to breathe.

  Fuck, but she’s my enemy, he wanted to scream in frustration.

  You don’t know that, his beast argued.

  CHAPTER 5

  Duty first. He’d scope out the rest of the house. Make sure it was contained from any and all Dark magical presences. Then, he’d get her back to the Station and figure everything else out later. Solid plan.

  Troy stomped around inside the house. He ignored the sounds of his mate from up in the attic. He knew she was safe up there since it was the only room he’d fully checked out.

  His hearing picked up on the various ways she’d like to inflict pain on him and he winced. Balls in a vice grip, huh? She was sassy that was for sure, a damn viper.

  Well, at least he’d never get away with anything around her. His personality, like his other half, was strong and dominant. Troy wouldn’t be able to stand it if his mate was a simpering female who’d spend all her time flinching around him.

  No need to worry about that. From what he could hear, she wanted to kick him in the balls about a thousand different ways. Ouch.

  He decided not to prolong her confinement to the attic any more than necessary. In other words, he hauled ass and quickly and efficiently searched over the house from bottom to top.

  “It’s about time you came back! And goody, you found some clothes! Now, can you please take these off me?” His mate bristled.

  “No,” he decided to keep it brief. The first thing he needed to do was get an explanation. Though duty called for him to contact Rex immediately, his beast and his heart demanded he hear her out first.

  “No? that’s it, just no?”

  “Look, Ms. Kristos-”

  “By all means call me, Andrea. I insist that all the men who handcuff me get to use my first name.”

  “Excuse me?” he growled the question in a voice too low for a normal to hear.

  Jealousy crashed over him like a fucking tsunami. The thought of his beautiful, dainty mate with another man made him want to rip the dick off of every fucking guy who ever looked at her. Mine.

  “Look pal, I damn near crashed through these fucking attic floorboards while you were gone, and it stinks in here like garbage! Uncuff me. Now.”

  “We’ll be leaving in a minute, but I need you to answer some questions first.”

  “Like what?” Patience was not his mate’s strong suit. Fuck and damn. He was in a ton of trouble. I’ll never be bored that’s for damn sure.

  “I’ve found all manner of evidence the elderly woman who lived here was something of a hoarder. A number of items in this place are under suspicion of belonging to a Dark practitioner and will need to be catalogued and removed-”

  “Are you kidding? So much for my fucking inheritance! And I thought my Puri daj forgave me for leaving! I swear I’m never going back there again!” She went on a bit of a tirade for a few minutes before he butted in.

  “Wait, you’re not a Witch then?”

  “Who? Me? A Dark Witch,” she spat the word at him.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “You think I’m a Witch? Wait, what are you?”

  “Do not play games with me, Ms. Kristos, Andrea.”

  “Oh, sure, cause I’m the one playing games! It is obvious from your glowing gold eyes, you’re some kind of Shifter. But you’re different than the others I’ve met, I can sense your magic. It’s, it’s-”

  “My name is Troy Waman. I am a Zodiac Shifter.”

  “A what?”

  “More later, now it’s your turn. What are you if not a Witch?”

  “Well, I’m technically a Romani spell Caster, but I don’t really practice.”

  He eyed the magical paraphernalia scattered amongst almost every square inch of the attic. He raised one eyebrow in astonishment. The place was as stuffed and messy as the rest of the house. Whoever Renalda Curosi was to his mate, the woman clearly had a thing for magical relics.

  Romani were notoriously secretive and, though the Wardens were kept up to date on many supernatural cultures, that one was grossly misunderstood. The fact that Andrea’s own clan might have put her in harm was deeply troubling.

  One thing was certain, Troy was becoming increasingly more concerned with the welfare of his mate, than with his job.

  “I mean it, dude, I don’t cast. I haven’t even been here for twenty-four hours yet. I just got in from Greece, for God’s sake!”

  She seemed rather affronted when he didn’t verbally agree with her. She wasn’t lying. Well, not exactly, he amended. Something was off with her story. A quick inhale told him she was holding back.

  His chest squeezed at the thought of his mate possibly practicing Dark magic. Logic warred with instinct. He seemed to simply know she was not evil. But what was she doing if not casting? He exhaled slowly.

  “I need you to be honest. Lying won’t work with me.”

  “What? Look, I am not lying! I’ve been away for a few years. You know, backpacking across Europe, meeting my extended family, sowing my oats, you know, having a freaking life that didn’t involve my crazy clan and family!”

  “You left your family?”

  “Well, that makes me sound shitty, doesn’t it?”

  “Uh, no, I didn’t mean-”

  “Look, I just didn’t want to end up in Puri daj’s kitchen, like my other cousins. Just another one of my grandmother’s devoted lackies, you know? I have my own dreams,” she looked down and he felt like a complete POS for putting that look on her face, but he had a job to do.

  Fuck and damn.

  CHAPTER 6

  “What dreams landed you here, in Shadowland, New York? And why the hell are you fucking around with a book that screams Dark magic?”

  Andrea bristled at the questions the man hurled at her. No, not man, Shifter. Not just a Shifter either. What did he say he was? Oh yeah, a Zodiac Shifter.

  Well, in her years of study with her illuminous Kristos Clan, Andrea had never come across such a thing. Maybe he was nuts. Great, she thought, I’m stuck with a crazy, though sexy as hell, Shifter. This was so not the welcome home she expected!

  “My dreams are mine. I’m not sharing them with you, whatever the hell you are? Zodiac Shifter? What does that even mean?”

  She watched as he unfolded his arms and stood to his full height. Holy shit. The guy was more than imposing. He was obviously packing some serious muscle, though not like one of those veiny body-builder types.

  No, his body was naturally muscular and toned. Long and lethal. Yeah, that was how she’d describe him. With long, straight, blue-black hair that fell to his shoulders in a thick, shiny curtain. He looked like some kind of out-of-time warrior.

  A light dusting of facial hair covered his rough features. She totally loved that on a man. Yum. He had deep set eyes, the color of chocolate. Not that cheap grocery store junk, his was like the good stuff, you know the kind. About six bucks for a bar of seventy-five percent pure cocoa. Yum.

  Andrea wouldn’t mind a taste of him. He smelled like rain and ozone, clean and fresh, strong and light. Like walking through a misty morning in Ireland, across green fields and rocky hills. Fuck, what was she crazy?

  She was daydreaming about some nutty fucker who had her handcuffed to a freaking pipe! Maybe she was still suffering from jet lag? The long flight to New Jersey from where she’d been staying in Greece was bound to catch up with her eventually.

  That was it! Her mind had finally snapped. She was hallucinating and would wake up any minute. She closed her eyes, mumbling to herself.

  “Come on, Andrea, get up. Wake up! You’re still on the plane, this is all a dream!”

  “I’m sorry, Andrea, this is no dream and you are in serious jeopardy here,” the Shifter crouched down and tilted his head as if he thought she’d lost her mind.

  He stood back up and ran a hand over his head. His eyes lightened to gold when he focused them on her. She watched him carefully. Sure, he was hot as Hades, but he still never answered her question.

  “Okay, I’m not sleeping. So, without the sass, can you tell me exactly what a Zodiac Shifter is?”

  She sucked in a breath when he turned and smiled at her, surprise lighting his handsome face. Her heart quickened and for some reason she found she couldn’t breathe. Ruggedly masculine, with hard lines and deep-set eyes, he was gorgeous. And she’d seen some seriously beautiful people over her lifetime, but no one, not a single one of them, compared to him.

  “You know what Shifters are?” She nodded, and he continued turning to fix his dark chocolate stare on her.

  “Like all Shifters, Zodiac Shifters are men and women who share their soul with their animal, most common are Wolves, Bears, and various Big Cats, though there are other kinds. As you can tell, I am of Native American descent, that said, my animal is something other than the norm.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I am a Thunderbird Shifter,” he nodded at her when her eyes met his.

  From what little she knew about Native American history from the odd college course many moons ago, Andrea understood the Thunderbird was a part of native American folklore. Holy shit! They are real. I mean, he is certainly real. She had so many questions, but she didn’t want to interrupt him.

  “My dual nature is not the only gift the Fates have bestowed upon me, you see, I was marked as a child with the sign of the Zodiac. Aquarius to be exact-”

  “An air sign? That makes sense. Thunderbird and all,” she nodded for him to continue.

  Andrea was amazed by the way he cocked his head to the side and watched her with an unflinching stare. Sort of how a bird of prey might do while hunting.

  Was it wrong if that solemn stare of his made heat pool low in her belly? Too bad. It was a reflex she couldn’t control. Despite everything, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Sigh.

  “Yes, an air sign. Well, Andrea, Zodiac Shifters are doubly blessed with both our dual natures and with the powers of our sign. I was marked by the Fates and born bearing the mark of Aquarius,” he watched her as he spoke, his gaze unwavering.

  Andrea nodded encouragingly. She was fascinated by the big man. He was so virile, larger than life, and for some reason she couldn’t fathom, he was speaking to her as if she were important to him. Amazing.

  “You see, I can tap into those powers to help aid me in my duty. I’m part of an organization as old as time. We are called the Wardens of Terra. It is my job to battle the evil that is constantly trying to take a foothold on this earth,” he held up his hand.

  Andrea noted a shape much like a tattoo inscribed on his skin. She recognized the symbol on his palm. Two zig-zagged lines marked the soft flesh there. The symbol of the water-bearer in astrology.

  “I recognize the symbol. A Warden of Terra? Puri Daj told us stories of them when my cousins and I were children, but I thought it was a myth.”

  “Like Shifters and spell Casters?” He smirked as he said it and she was powerless to stop her responding smile.

  “Can I ask why are you telling me all this if you think I was practicing Dark magic? Wouldn’t I use it against you?”

  Oh crap. Why did you have to go and say that? Andrea scolded herself as he crept over to her. She directed her scowl to him. How could he believe such a thing? And why would he set himself up by telling her his secrets?

  She sucked in a breath as he leaned down in front of her. His handsome face was so close to hers, Andrea could see flecks of gold highlighting his impossibly dark eyes. Why does he have to be so good-looking? Damn.

  “I am telling you all of this, my little Romani Caster, for one very good reason. You. Are. Mine.”

  He leaned over her and for a split second she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he reached for her hands. She could only stare at the hard lines of his mouth while his callused fingers worked to release her. How would they feel on her skin? Rough or soft? She was vibrating with the need to know.

 

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