Witches and Warlocks who were infected with vampire blood were turned into Blood Witches and Blood Warlocks. It made them more powerful, but it also made their magic darker, wilder, and more unpredictable. The fact that Maverick had been blooded was a tightly guarded secret, even in Haven Hollow. When his cousin, Wanda, had been accidentally blooded by her now husband, Lorcan Rowe, her birth coven had been in an uproar and she’d ended up banished. Considering witches were heavily matriarchal and didn’t much care for warlocks to begin with, if Maverick were discovered to be a Blood Warlock, there would be people calling for his death, so no way were we letting that little nugget of info slip. Just the thought of someone coming after him had ice creeping across my palms and my breath fogging in the air.

  At least when I picked my way back over to Roy and Fifi, Roy seemed to have calmed down. He wasn’t hanging onto Fifi like he was protecting a glass egg any longer, but he’d convinced her to sit back down in the lawn chair and he was now guarding her like a jealous dragon guarding a pile of gold.

  “I’m fine, really.” Fifi looked between Roy and me, still more embarrassed than anything. She already looked better, the bruise being swallowed up by her pale skin, like I was watching stop motion in reverse. “I just need some decent sleep.”

  Damn—she and me both.

  “I called Maverick. He’ll be here shortly.”

  Fifi put her head in her hand. “This really isn’t necessary. It was just a stupid mistake. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

  “Fifi, the fact that you passed out while driving home isn’t a good sign.” It was blunt, bordering on rude, but I really needed the message to hit home. True, going through the windshield and into a tree probably wouldn’t have permanently injured Fifi, but the other people on the road couldn’t exactly say the same thing.

  “Taliyah’s right,” Roy said as he gave her an understanding smile.

  “Has anything like this ever happened before?” I continued.

  “No.” Fifi shook her head, her eyes wide. “Never.”

  That kind of made me more worried, actually.

  “I want Maverick to check you out to make sure there isn’t anything else going on. Just in case. If there’s something affecting you, better to find out sooner rather than later.”

  When Fifi opened her mouth to protest, Roy spoke in a quiet rumble.

  “She’s right, Fifi.”

  All the fight went out of her then, and she slumped back into her lawn chair to wait.

  Maverick pulled up a lot faster than I’d thought he would, easing his lanky body out of the front seat and stalking up the road towards us.

  He really was an incredibly handsome man. His face was all sharp angles, with a strong jaw. Dark eyes, and broad shoulders, and his hair was finally growing out of the really unfortunate bob he’d had to cut it into so he could infiltrate a group of vampires. He tugged his dark wool coat around himself more fully as his long legs ate up the distance between us.

  I tried to remind my heart that I was almost fifty years old, not fourteen, and I had absolutely no reason to be fluttering like this over a man, not even my technical husband, but my heart didn’t pay me any attention. I just hoped I wasn’t blushing visibly when he reached me.

  Maverick nodded to Fifi and Roy, and I filled him in on what had happened as briefly as I could. He asked a couple clarifying questions to Fifi, and then pulled his hands out of his pockets to hold them on either side of her head.

  The lightning storm prickle of Maverick’s power filled the air then, nipping over my skin, making me shiver. It didn’t hurt, exactly. It was actually kind of invigorating, but not to everyone, if the way Roy shifted uneasily was any indication.

  After a minute, Maverick dropped his hands, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. “I don’t sense anything, other than the fact that she’s exhausted.”

  “No curses or magical afflictions?” I asked, prodding.

  “Not that I can tell.”

  “Should you check again?” Roy asked.

  “No,” Maverick responded, eyebrows raised. “I’m sure.”

  He said the words with a degree of pride, but not like he was bragging. I got it. Maverick had spent most of his formative years being told that he’d never measure up or amount to anything because he’d been born male. And normally, from what I’d been told, magic did tend to favor women. But Maverick was an anomaly, the strongest warlock seen in a century or more. And instead of recognition, he’d been banished for it. And then his own coven leader and aunt had tried to have him killed.

  Talk about messed up families.

  Fifi tried to smile. “I told you.” She took Roy’s hand.

  “Okay.” It was hard to keep the worry out of my voice, so I took a step back and did my best to project Chief Morgan instead of Taliyah. “Go home and get some rest. If you like, I can get a tow truck out here and have your car taken back to your house.”

  “It’s okay.” Roy squeezed Fifi’s hand and then moved towards the ditch. “I’ve got it.”

  Maverick flicked his fingers, mumbling a quick spell, probably to convince the people still occasionally peering out their windows that they had more interesting things to worry about. That way there were no witnesses when, with a small grunt of effort, and some flexing muscles, Roy lifted Fifi’s entire car out of the ditch and set it back on the shoulder of the road. Just like that. Like the thing didn’t weigh as much as it obviously did.

  Almost a year I’d been sunk up to my neck in the magical nonsense of Haven Hollow, yet it was still entirely possible for it to shock me.

  Roy then opened the Mercedes’ door and leaned in, turning off the headlights and grabbing the keys before locking the door and heading back our way. “We can come back for it in the morning.”

  “Okay,” Fifi said, her voice quiet. She swayed a little when she stood, but Roy was right there to help her to his truck.

  Fifi touched my arm as they passed. “Thank you, Taliyah. I’m so sorry to drag you out here. It won’t happen again.”

  “It’s okay, Fifi. It’s my job.” I smiled, trying to soften the words. I would have come out anyway, even if it hadn’t literally been my job, but she didn’t need to know that.

  As the truck pulled away, Maverick turned to me, his hands in his coat pockets. “How are you doing? Bit of a late night.”

  “It is,” I sighed, feeling every hour I’d been awake that day. “Long day. How about you?”

  He hummed. “Good. Sybil’s been trying to convince Yew to become her familiar, even though she isn’t a witch. She had a power point presentation she wanted me to look over.” He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I have no idea where she learned how to use power point.”

  That had me laughing, something light and warm in my chest. “Well, she’s smart, like her dad. And good at getting her way—also like her dad.”

  Sybil was Maverick’s daughter. Well, sort of. He’d been involved in her creation, but not the usual way. Sybil had started out as a mannequin in Wanda’s enchanted clothing store, until one day Wanda had spilled a potion on a bit of magical embroidery that Maverick was working on, and well, boom—Sybil was born.

  Part of the reason both witches and vampires weren’t very happy about Blood Witches was owing to the fact that their magic was unstable and even more unpredictable. So, when two powerful but unstable magics had been slopped onto each other randomly, the results had been explosive.

  I meant that literally. The mistake had blown the whole front of the store out.

  And, in the wreckage there was Sybil, no longer a mannequin, but a living girl. One capable of shapeshifting into any woman she wanted, and some she made up entirely. She was only about a year old, but she’d settled into the form of a fifteen-year-old witch, and Maverick had taken her in as his daughter. She was a good kid. Naïve sometimes, but who could blame her?

  Just talking about her trying to convince a grumpy old rat who lived in the coven house walls to be her familiar had me smiling. And Maverick, too, for that matter—I liked seeing this side of him—he was softer in a way most people didn’t get to see. I felt lucky.

  “How are the boys doing? Do they like their new nanny?”

  I checked my phone for the thirtieth time that day and hummed. “No explosions so far, so fingers crossed.”

  I’d made sure Sean had a phone with him. He was a little young for a phone, and the one I’d gotten him wasn’t fancy, but he could reach me any time and that was important to me. It was only paranoia if people weren’t really out to get you, otherwise, it was just good planning.

  I startled when Maverick’s hand came up to touch my face, his thumb gently sliding over the delicate skin below my left eye. A shiver skipped down my spine at his touch, my breath catching in my lungs.

  “What about you?” Maverick’s voice, always deep, slid somewhere close to baritone. “You look tired, Taliyah.”

  I had to swallow twice before my throat would unstick enough for words. “Thanks.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t mean it like that—you know that.”

  I frowned, feeling exceptionally uncomfortable since he still hadn’t dropped his fingers. “You’re one to talk. You look like you’ve had a couple sleepless nights yourself.”

  Standing as close as we were, I could see the circles under his eyes clearly, dark blue and purple against his pale skin. The lines on his face were deeper than I remembered, like weariness had carved grooves in him. His touch felt good against my skin, and it took more self-control than I would ever admit not to tilt my face into his touch like a cat wanting affection.

  Maverick smirked, the corner of his lips twitching up. “I’m fine. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

  “Same.” I sighed, taking a reluctant step back. “I should get home to the boys.”

  Just because Marty was checking in on them didn’t mean I wanted to be much later in getting home. Sean started to worry when I was late, and that made Charlie anxious too.

  Maverick nodded, his hands going back to his pockets. “Get home safe.”

  “You too.”

  It sucked, walking away. I wanted to stay, to spend more time with him. It wasn’t a great situation though, standing on the side of a dark road. So, I trudged back to my cruiser. All the while, Maverick just stood there and watched me. Watched me get behind the wheel, watched me lock my door, and watched me turn the engine on. Like he was some kind of knight in a knee length coat. It was sweet and aggravating in about equal ratio. I wasn’t some dainty maiden. I was a cop, and I’d been one for most of my adult life. I’d solved homicides and fought monsters. I didn’t need protecting.

  But it was also thoughtful, and it was his way of showing he cared, so I let it slide. That didn’t mean I didn’t pointedly wait until he was back in his own car and he’d started the engine. Maverick laughed at me as soon as he realized what I was doing.

  The muscles in my shoulders relaxed, and there was an easy smile on my face as I pulled away from the shoulder of the road. The rest of the drive home was fine, though it was still weird how many fireflies were out, hanging around the edges of the woods like little lost stars.

  Chapter Four

  I leaned back against my desk and pinched the bridge of my nose, counting backwards from ten, because if I didn’t rein in my temper, I was going to end up yelling, and that wasn’t going to do any good.

  Screaming until I was hoarse might have made me feel better in the short term, but I knew that was just my lack of sleep talking, and I was determined to ignore it. Spite, even against myself, was a powerful motivator.

  “Stan,” I said, slowly and carefully, and then stopped.

  The man sitting in the chair in front of my desk just played with the edges of the blanket he was wrapped in, a dopey smile on his weathered face. He wasn’t the first werewolf to be brought in for some misdemeanor or other, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last. They tended to be a… boisterous bunch. Usually it was public intoxication, though. This one was definitely a new one for me.

  I took another deep breath, and tried again. “Stan. Do you understand why you’re here?”

  He looked up from the edge of the blanket and shifted in his chair, frowning. The move left plenty of very hairy and pale skin visible, and I stared over his head to avoid being traumatized by whatever else might accidentally fall out.

  “No,” he said, slowly, like he was trying to piece it all together. “The deputies said I had to come with them.”

  “That’s right. They brought you in. Do you understand why?”

  He thought really hard about it, his eyelids fluttering. Finally, he shook his head.

  I sighed and fought the urge to pinch my nose again. It wouldn’t help the headache I could feel blooming behind my left eye. “Stan, I understand that it’s natural for you to want to run around naked in the woods. And you are perfectly allowed to do so, so long as you do it in your wolf form. Doing it in human form will get you charged with public nudity. Do you understand me?”

  Stan blinked again, a little longer than the last one. “Yeah, of course. Sorry about that, Chief.” He swayed a little. “I hadn’t even realized I hadn’t shifted. Must have forgotten. Won’t happen again.”

  That didn’t make me feel even a little better. How the heck did someone forget to turn into a wolf? The shift in balance alone should have been pretty telling. I wasn’t a shapeshifter, but it didn’t seem very likely.

  Still, unlike most werewolves that came into the precinct, Stan was affable, apologetic, and seemed genuinely remorseful, so I didn’t want to throw the book at him. He was also totally out of it, though. If he weren’t a werewolf, I’d have thought he was on something. I almost wished he was high, at least that might explain how he could forget to change shape, but as far as I’d been told, drugs didn’t work long on wolves.

  I so missed the days when I just had drug busts and assaults to deal with, not curses and magic potions and werewolves that forgot to shift before going running through the woods, stark naked.

  Still, the particulars might have changed, but the ‘protect and serve’ part was still the same. “Are you okay, Stan? Did something happen to you?”

  He waved a hand, flashing me the length of his furry thigh. I immediately looked away. “I’m okay, Chief. Just haven’t been sleeping well and... I guess it’s taken its toll on me. I’m just going to go home and crash.”

  Ugh, that I could relate to. If I didn’t get some rest soon, I was worried I just might start streaking through the woods myself.

  “Okay, Stan. Here.” I passed him the sweats we kept on hand for emergencies. “Go get dressed. Is there someone I can call to pick you up?”

  With Stan shuffled off to the bathroom to finally put on some freaking pants, and his brother on the way to give him a ride home, I let myself sag back down into my desk chair as I scraped my hands through my hair.

  I still had a mound of paperwork to get through, but the more I looked at them, the more the letters started to swim around the page.

  My phone buzzed in a welcome distraction, and I picked it up to read the message.

  It was another one from Marty. He’d been doing his irregular drop ins at the house, and he was just reporting that things seemed to be going well with the boys. That was a relief. So far, Chloe had been working out really well. The boys certainly liked her, even Sean, which had surprised me. And Marty’s little drop-ins did help me feel more secure. I knew he couldn’t keep it up forever, but I was grateful for him, all the same. It helped me soothe the nagging fears I had about leaving my kids with a virtual stranger, at least.

  But Sean had his phone, and he could call me any time, so there was that. All I could do was hope that over the next week or so, the cold knot of anxiety in my gut might melt away into something a little softer.

  I pawed through the reports on my desk, getting ready for the next round of paperwork. TV and movies always made police work look exciting—going out to catch the bad guys, guns blazing. But really, paperwork took up about seventy percent of my time—especially in a small town like Haven Hollow. I’d thought I’d known what I was signing up for when I’d moved here, that I’d just be dealing with a sleepy little tourist town, possibly run by a cult.

  But I’d had no idea. Especially about the paperwork.

  There was a light rap on my door before it opened, and I glanced up, frowning. I knew before the door swung open that it wasn’t one of my deputies, partially because they wouldn’t open the door without waiting for an invitation, and partially because none of them knocked with shave-and-a-haircut.

  I’d half expected more bad news, or at least annoying news, so I was shocked in a good way when Maverick stepped through the door with a paper sack and a drink carrier with two enormous coffees perched in it.

  “Hey,” I said, brightly. “What’s up?”

  Maverick smirked, dropping down into the chair Stan had just vacated. He dropped the paper bag onto my desk, careful to avoid the stacks of paper strewn everywhere, and offered me a cup of liquid happiness.

  “I thought you could use a visit,” Maverick answered.

  I laughed and held up my coffee. “You have no idea how much I could use your visit.” Then I looked at the bag. “What else did you bring?”

  “Lunch from the Half-Moon,” he said, pulling two Styrofoam containers out of the bag. “I’ve hardly seen you for the past few weeks, unless it’s some kind of disaster or another. And don’t get me wrong, I love our disaster time. But I thought something a little quieter might be nice, too.”

  I hadn’t realized just how hungry I was until he set my favorite burger on my desk in front of me, and my stomach let out a rabid snarl that would have impressed even Stan’s wolf half.