Table of Contents

Th Doctor Falls For Her Gargoyle

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Excerpt from The Witch Rescues Her Werewolf

About the Author

Dear Reader,

Nocturne Falls has become a magical place for so many people, myself included. Over and over I’ve heard from you that it’s a town you’d love to visit and even live in! I can tell you that writing the books is just as much fun for me.

With your enthusiasm for the series in mind—and your many requests for more books—the Nocturne Falls Universe was born. It’s a project near and dear to my heart, and one I am very excited about.

I hope these new, guest-authored books will entertain and delight you. And best of all, I hope they allow you to discover some great new authors! (And if you like this book, be sure to check out the rest of the Nocturne Falls Universe offerings.)

For more information about the Nocturne Falls Universe, visit http://kristenpainter.com/sugar-skull-books/

In the meantime, happy reading!

Kristen Painter

The Doctor Falls For Her Gargoyle

A Nocturne Falls Universe Story

Copyright © 2017 by Cate Dean

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

This book is a work of fiction and was made possible by a special agreement with Sugar Skull Books, but hasn’t been reviewed or edited by Kristen Painter. All characters, events, scenes, plots and associated elements appearing in the original Nocturne Falls series remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Kristen Painter, Sugar Skull Books and their affiliates or licensors.

Any similarity to real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author or Sugar Skull Books.

Published in the United States of America.

One

Smiling, Elias Saunders strode across Cauldron Lane, to the spooky house that sat kitty corner to his Victorian.

His neighbor, Lidia Reston, was throwing an engagement party, and he looked forward to some fun, after the disastrous visit with his mom. He shook his head, and swallowed the bad taste just the thought of it left in his mouth.

He had told Lidia this morning that he would come over early and help set things up. Her fiancé, Harrison Grey, had a reputation for being on the clumsy side, and he’d probably be more of a hindrance—especially with the china and crystal.

Though he had noticed, since Lidia and Harrison had met, that Harrison seemed to be less clumsy. Still, better safe than...

That thought faded when he spotted a hunched figure, standing in the shadow of the trees next to the sidewalk.

“Hey—what are you doing—ˮ The figure jerked at his voice—and took off.

Eli cursed under his breath and sprinted after the intruder. His long legs ate up the distance between them, and before the figure could squeeze through a break in the neighbor’s fence, Eli grabbed the collar of the shabby jacket.

“Let me go, gargoyle.” His captive’s familiar, light voice almost startled Eli into freeing him.

“Jessup?” Eli swung him around and pinned him to the fence. “Do you have a death wish?”

Jessup Halvin had been banned from Nocturne Falls by the Ellinghams, the vampire family who ran things behind the scenes. Eli hadn’t been at his tribunal, but he heard later that Jessup had violated some confidence, and if he stepped into Nocturne Falls again, it would cost his life.

“I needed to see you, Eli.”

“Why?” Eli let him go, but he kept the sprite in arm’s reach, in case Jessup decided to rabbit again. The sprite was about as trustworthy as a thief in a room full of jewels. “What’s worth risking your life?”

“A big payday.”

Before Eli could react, Jessup jabbed his left forearm with a short, narrow knife.

“What the—ˮ Eli stared down at the small puncture, and lifted his head in time to see Jessup disappear around the corner. When he looked at his arm again, a few drops of blood stained his skin. “You better keep running, Jessup.”

Unlike most of the gargoyles, he wasn’t employed by the town, choosing instead to use his skills as a handyman and carpenter to earn his way. But he was a resident, and it was his duty to report Jessup. He would—in about an hour. The sprite may have been a nuisance, but he was a harmless nuisance.

The mention of a big payday nagged at Eli; he pushed it to the back of his mind, pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket, and wiped away the blood. The small wound was already healing.

He folded the handkerchief so the bloody edge was concealed, and tucked it back in his pocket. No need to worry Lidia on her big day.

After checking himself for any telltale signs of the odd attack, he headed back toward Lidia’s house. Time to get this long overdue party started.

~ * ~

Once all the food had been laid out, Eli excused himself and walked out to the backyard.

Not that Lidia or Harrison would miss him. They were too busy staring at each other, smiling like fools.

Eli took out his cell phone, and hit Hugh Ellingham’s number.

Hugh answered after the first ring. “Hello, Elias. What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to let you know—I saw Jessup Halvin today.”

Hugh’s voice turned sharp. “Where?”

“In front of Lidia’s house. He ran before I could grab him.” Eli decided not to mention their conversation, absently scratching his left forearm. “I don’t know what he did, Hugh, but I don’t like the fact that he was skulking around the day of Lidia’s engagement party.”

“You’re right. Delaney and I were just getting ourselves ready.” He paused, and Eli could hear tapping in the background. “Most of the town’s influential residents will be there. I am going to ring Sebastian, have more security than we originally planned. It will be discreet, Elias, so please keep this between us.”

“Sure. I better go, before Lidia comes looking for me.”

“Thank you for informing me. Jessup will be dealt with.”

Hugh ended the call without his usual goodbye.

Eli tucked his phone in his back pocket, and flinched when a sharp twinge drove through his left arm.

Frowning, he pushed his sleeve up, studying the spot where Jessup had injured him. It looked a little inflamed, probably from him scratching it. He’d have to be careful, or Lidia would notice. She fussed over him like a big sister—something he didn’t mind at all, especially when that fussing included home-cooked meals.

“Eli!” Lidia appeared at the back door. “People will be here any second, and I need your help with the cake.”

“Sure thing.” He strode across the yard, smiling at her.

He knew she didn’t dare ask Harrison to help her with it. He may be less clumsy, but until he was completely trip-free, Eli would be there to move the delicate, or the fragile, or the precious.

As long as Lidia needed him, he’d be there for her.

~ * ~

Halfway through the party, Eli’s arm started to itch.

It was easy to ignore—at first.

But after the first hour, the itch turned into a cold-fire burn. One he couldn’t ignore.

He was talking to Lidia’s human friend, Tami Bennett, when the first ugly flare of pain shot through him.

“Eli?” She caught his right arm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He forced himself to smile at her. “Cut myself at a job last night.” Since Tami was human, he had to keep his true nature hidden, and he could feel the gargoyle, poking just under his skin. He hadn’t felt out of control like this, not since he was a kid, learning how to change. “Excuse me for a minute.”

“Are you sure? I can get Lidia—ˮ

“Don’t. She’s finally enjoying herself.”

Tami glanced over at Lidia, where she stood next to Harrison. She finally looked relaxed, laughing at something Delaney told her.

“Okay,” she said. “I won’t tell, if you let me go with you.”

“I’ll be—ˮ A second, sharper jolt almost buckled his knees.

“No, you won’t.” Tami cupped his elbow, smiling up at him as she led him toward the downstairs bathroom. “We’re just going on a tour of the house, if anyone asks. Keep looking at me, Eli.”

He did, even as he felt sweat slide down his sides, under his shirt. Tami got him into the bathroom, and helped him sit on the ridiculous stool in front of the makeup vanity. His arm felt like it was on fire, and numb at the same time.

Tami gently eased up the sleeve, and he braced himself. They both looked at his arm. It looked completely normal. No—not completely. The site of the puncture wound had a mark now. Eli leaned over, his heart pounding.

Not a mark. The puncture had turned to stone.

“Eli? Do you know what that is?”

He swallowed, and looked up at her. Since she was human, he couldn’t tell her much. In any case, he couldn’t tell her much.

“I have no idea.”

Two

Dr. Sophie Mead was in trouble.

Huge trouble.

She peeked through the tiny space between the edge of her office window and the curtain, staring at the source of her trouble.

Tall, sexy, gorgeous Elias Saunders stood in the waiting room of her clinic, smiling at her nurse/receptionist, Pat Childs. Watching him sent the giant butterflies in her stomach into a frenzy.

She had a teenage crush—something she never even had as a teenager. But every time she crossed paths with Elias, her knees turned to rubber, her tongue to lead, and those stupid butterfly nerves made her want to throw up.

Not good when the object of her crush looked like he was about to become her patient.

She leapt away from the window when Pat finished creating Elias’ file and waved him back. Her nurse/receptionist was a little too efficient—something Sophie normally appreciated, and the reason she had hired the witch.

Pat was a proficient witch, but she had told Sophie during the interview that she knew from a young age that she excelled at a purely human skill; taking care of people. So she became a nurse, and found a place where the two sides of her could live in harmony.

Sophie had hired her on the spot.

Pat opened the door leading to the hall, and Sophie just managed to close her office door before they walked past. A light knock made her jump again.

“Yes?”

Pat poked her head in, holding out a file. “Elias Saunders, in treatment one.”

“Thank you. Tell him I’ll be there in a minute.”

As soon as I can control the raging butterflies.

“Sure thing. Are you okay, Dr. Mead? You look a little pale.”

“Late night.”

Pat shook her finger at Sophie. “Staying up with those dry medical journals is going to make you old before your time. Get out once in a while, have a beer at Howler’s instead of just a sandwich. It won’t mar your reputation,” she said, when Sophie opened her mouth to say just that. “Not after office hours. You’re a human being, as well as a doctor. The locals aren’t going to judge you for a beer.”

“Thank you for the lecture on my social life. Go tell Mr. Saunders I’ll be right there.”

They’d been over this ground before, and more than once. Pat knew better than to push.

She left, and Sophie used the time it took to scan Elias’ new file to try and talk down the butterflies. They weren’t listening.

“Just go and face him,” she muttered. “Pretend to be professional.”

Fake it til you make it, like her anatomy professor used to say to his room full of sleep-deprived med students. Of course, he had often used the limp arm of a corpse to make them groan, or laugh, depending on the statement.

Sophie lived by it during her internship, and it had given her the outward confidence while she gained real confidence in herself.

She took a deep breath, stood, and headed down to treatment one. Her heart almost stopped when she opened the door, and saw Elias standing in the middle of the small room.

Shirtless.

I can do this.

After another deep breath, she pasted on a smile and closed the door.

“Good morning, Mr. Saunders.”

He turned around, and flashed her a smile that threatened to buckle her knees. “Dr. Mead. I wish we were saying hi under better circumstances.” His smile faded, and Sophie moved forward, the doctor smothering any lingering nerves.

“Tell me why you’re here, Mr. Saunders.”

“Eli. I keep expecting my dad to walk in every time you call me Mr. Saunders. Which would be creepy, since he’s dead.”

Sympathy squeezed her heart. “Oh, I am so sorry.”

He waved it off. “No worries. It happened a long time ago. Mom and I got past it.”

She nodded, studying him. He didn’t act like someone who had been scarred by losing a parent so early. “All right. Why don’t you sit down? I’m starting to get a cramp in my neck.”

Even at almost six feet, Sophie was still several inches shorter than Elias. He smiled and lowered himself to the exam table.

She took the time while he was settling to study him. She may not have the gifts of most of her family, but she could sense things about people. The sensitivity had led her down the path of medicine—that and the fact that there weren’t many doctors who could treat both supernaturals and humans.

He looked healthy—robustly healthy, in fact. It was hard not to notice his broad shoulders, or the sculpted muscles that defined his arms. She refused to look at his eight-pack abs—

Her inventory halted when she noticed a dark—stain was the only word she could thing of—on his left forearm. She set the folder on the table next to him, then leaned over his left arm.

“When did this happen?”

“Two days ago.” He studied her, his blue eyes so clear, so intense. Sophie had trouble breathing when he looked at her like that. “I need to know that what we say here is confidential, Doc.”

“Of course.”

Elias took a deep breath, and stared down at his arm. “I was—attacked isn’t the right word. But I ran into an old acquaintance. Jessup Halvin.”

“He was banished from Nocturne Falls, wasn’t he? I never met him, but I heard about it.”

“Yeah. It means his life if he’s ever caught inside the town limits again, which makes his appearance more than a little suspicious. Anyway, he stabbed me with a small knife. In that spot. A couple hours later, it started itching, then burning, and now—this.”

Sophie took a closer look, and then took in a sharp breath. “It’s stone.”

“Two days ago, it was the size of a pen tip.”

The mark on his arm looked like he had a quarter sitting on it. A stone quarter.

“You’ve never had anything like this before?”

Elias shook his head. “Never heard of it, either. We gargoyles are an all or nothing type.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Sophie sensed his concern—and under it, a spark of fear.

“I haven’t seen this before, but I’ll do some research. I do have something that might slow down the spread. Wait here.”

She headed out of the room, and ran down the hall to her small lab/dispensary. She enjoyed experimenting in her off hours, and kept her own supply of medication, especially the less familiar medicine used by supernaturals. It was easier than the local pharmacy trying to get their hands on it. Some of the medicine needed a special license—and more red tape than most pharmacists were willing to deal with.

The small tube of ointment was her only one, but she’d order more today, in case it worked. Elias would need a good supply of it. She grabbed the tube, and a big bottle of extra-strength aspirin, for the headache she’d sensed from him.

He was her first gargoyle, and it surprised her just how much more she got from her scan of him than she normally did from supernaturals. Humans were easy, since they didn’t create barriers; supernaturals did it out of self-preservation.

But Elias—she could read him like an open book. She’d put that aside for later. Right now, she had a patient to treat.

That patient was hunched over his arm when she stepped into the exam room.

“Elias—here.” She wrapped an arm around his waist, not surprised that every muscle felt like iron. Pain radiated off him. Her touch seemed to ease some of it, and he let out a shaky breath. “Can you sit up for me? I have an ointment that might help.”

“Yeah.” He slowly straightened, every movement stiff. “Thanks, Doc.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” She pulled on a latex glove. “It might not work.”

That got a smile from him. It changed to a grimace when she started gently dabbing the ointment on his arm.

“It burns,” he whispered. “Is that—ˮ

“Normal? Yes. Sorry—I should have warned you. It should stop in a moment.”

His face relaxed, and he smiled. “Yeah, better. Much better. What the heck is that stuff?”

“A secret recipe.” She startled herself by winking at him. His smile broadened, and she felt heat flush her cheeks. Mortified, she focused on his arm. “But it has a specific set of herbs I thought might help, or at least slow the process until I find out exactly what is going on.”

“Thanks.”

She handed him the tube, stripped off the glove and tossed it in the trash, then busied herself with his file, cursing her fair skin. It took forever for any blush to fade.

“I’ll order more. That’s my last tube. You will need to apply it several times a day, so carry it with you.”

“Wow.” She looked up in time to see him brushing his fingers over the mark. “It doesn’t feel like stone anymore. And the ache isn’t as bad.”

“Oh, I almost forgot.” She pulled the bottle of aspirin out of her pocket and handed it to him. “This will help. It’s supernatural approved.”

He burst out laughing. “You’re full of surprises, Doc. Thanks for everything.”

She watched him pull his t-shirt over his head. It was the same blue as his eyes, and the thin fabric molded itself to his muscular torso.

Stop staring, Sophie.

She’d drool, then he’d know for certain she was a teenage-crush idiot.

“Doc?”

She jerked, mortified to realize she was still staring. Hopefully, no drool trickled down her chin. She was too embarrassed to check.

“Sorry,” she said. “Use the ointment whenever you need to. I will have more for you by tomorrow afternoon. I’d like to see you again,” she glanced down at his file, using the time to try and regain some composure. “In three days. You can make an appointment on your way out. If you need to come in sooner, please don’t hesitate.” She met his eyes, and saw the fear, almost hidden in the blue depths.

That decided her.

She dug one of her business cards out of her pocket, and scribbled her cell phone and home phone numbers on the back.

“Keep this with you,” she said, handing it to him. “If anything happens, and I mean anything, Elias, you call me. It doesn’t matter what time.”

“Thanks, Doc.” He tucked the card in his wallet. “It helps, knowing I’m not alone in this.”

“Who else knows about what’s happening?”

“Just my neighbor, Lidia Reston. You know her?”

“Yes.” Sophie remembered the pretty witch. They had passed each other several times in town since she had treated Lidia that day at Howler’s, exchanging friendly hellos. “Is that all?”

“Her friend, Tami Bennett. Um,” he stared at his hands. “She’s human. But she’s Lidia’s best friend, so she knows that supernaturals exist. At least, she knows that witches exist. I was as noncommittal as possible, but she was there when the pain hit for the first time.”

Sophie frowned. “Does it hurt now?” She could see the pain around him, but she wanted to know if he would admit to it.

“Not with the ointment on it. And the pain’s not constant. It’s more like a sharp stab, then the spot gets a little bigger.”

Cursing under her breath, she made notes in his file. “Anything else you neglected to mention?”

“Uh—no. Sorry.”

She glanced up at him—and her heart skipped. With his dark blonde hair falling over one eye, and the sheepish grin, he looked like an oversized teenager. A gorgeous, incredibly sexy, oversized teenager.

“I need to know everything in order to help you. Got it?”

“Got it, Doc. Is the lecture over?” Humor edged the question, so she knew he was teasing her.

“For now. Go and make an appointment.”

“Thank you.” He paused next to her, and laid one hand on her shoulder. “I mean it. I’ve been more than a little freaked since this happened.”

“I can imagine.” She sounded remarkably normal, considering her heart threatened to pound right out of her chest.

Endless seconds later, Elias let go of her and walked out. Sophie managed to make it to the chair next to the door before her knees gave out on her.

“Heaven help me,” she whispered.

Her hands shook as she lowered his file to her lap. She had an idea that any contact might affect her; she had not been prepared for the absolute need that roared through her the moment his hand touched her shoulder.

How was she supposed to function around him, when he set her off with a simple touch?

“Like the professional you’re supposed to be, Sophie. Suck it up.”

She took a few deep, not-quite-steady breaths, then slowly stood and made her way out of the room, down the hall. Elias’ deep voice filtered through the closed door between her and the waiting area, and his laugh made her yearn—for a life she couldn’t have.

In the supernatural world, she was as good as human, and the two didn’t mix.

“Stop the pity party,” she whispered. She’d accepted her fate a long time ago, but her attraction to Elias tested her. Severely.

She waited until the outer door closed before she opened the door to the waiting area.

Pat turned around. “Is Elias okay?”

“For now. How many appointments do I have left today?”

“Only one. I can reschedule, if you need me to. It’s just a regular check-up.”

“Can you? I have some—ˮ

“Research to do.” Pat laughed. “I saw the gleam in your eyes as soon as you walked out. I’ll take care of it. You head on out.”

“Thank you.”

Sophie headed back to her office to grab her purse, her doctor’s bag, and her coat.

The social drink at Howler’s would have to wait. She had an appointment with her family’s medical library.

Three

Eli stopped counting the applications of the ointment Dr. Sexy Mead had given him after the fifth time.

He really had to stop thinking of her like that, or he was going to slip up and say it out loud.

But she was something—all long legs and gorgeous blonde hair. He had a thing for blondes, and every tone of blonde possible streaked her hair. Even pulled back, he could tell, and it had taken all his control not to tuck the random strand that had escaped behind her ear, then wrap his arms around her and draw her in—

He shook his head, shoving the vivid image out of his mind. Right now, he had other things to deal with. Like his arm, and what to do about Jessup. He should have told Sheriff Hank Merrow the second after he saw the sprite, but he knew that would mean a death sentence for Jessup.

“He might have given you the same sentence,” Eli muttered. He tried not to rub his arm as he climbed the steps to his porch.

His legs felt heavy today, a sensation that didn’t normally happen outside of shifting. He’d never been good at it, so his gig as a local fix-it handyman suited him perfectly. If he’d had to change every day, like the gargoyles who manned the fountain in town, he’d be out of a job.

He enjoyed the physical side of the work, as well as the problem-solving needed for some of the bigger jobs. He had the strength, and the knowledge, from years of helping his mom keep up their rambling, ancient house outside San Francisco.

Eli missed the cool weather, the fog coming in off the Bay, and the peace that had surrounded their five acres. That life ended after Dad died, when Eli was fourteen. Mom remarried soon after, moving them all to his new stepfather’s house in Savannah. Eli and his stepbrother Lance had shared a mutual dislike at first sight, so as soon as he could, he left.

He still visited his mom and stepdad; though, after the tension surrounding this last trip, he planned to stay away for a while. He hadn’t seen Lance in years—and he considered that a good thing.

Nocturne Falls had been on his radar for some time, so when he had to leave, it was the first place he thought of. Coming here had been the right choice. He didn’t have to hide what he was, he could make an honest living, and he was surrounded by people who understood what it meant to be different.

Eli was one of the lower-class gargoyles, so his transformation wasn’t as impressive as, say, Nick Hardwin. The former Army Ranger was leviathan-class, and when he shifted, he was enormous. Eli would look like the cat he was next to Nick.

He walked through the house, and out to the backyard, needing to shift. Needing to know he still could. He wasn’t supposed to shift during the day, but in his own yard, with the ten-foot fence blocking him from any prying eyes, he felt safe enough for a quick shift, and maybe a few low passes across the yard.

Moving to the middle of the yard, he shook out his arms. Once he had enough space around him, he closed his eyes and focused. Energy roared through him, hot and electric. Between one breath and the next, he had become the winged cat.

“Oh, wow.” The surprised voice spun him, and he halted mid-leap when he saw Lidia, standing near the side of the house. “I’m sorry—” She held her hands up. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to—I heard you back here and I—”

“It’s okay.” His voice roughened in his true form, and he could tell that his size shocked her. “I haven’t shifted for a while, so I was just—you caught me.”

He tried to smile, and knew it always looked dangerous, with his long, pointed teeth. Lidia took another giant step backward, running into the house.

“I’ve seen the gargoyles at the fountain, but—wow, Eli. You’re just—”

“Huge? Ugly? Deformed?”

She frowned and moved forward. “Beautiful. You are so beautiful. Like a giant, winged Max.”

He stared at her, shocked. No one had ever called him beautiful in his true form. Hideous had been Lance’s favorite word. Mom had avoided watching him shift, since he hadn’t inherited her titan-class size. As much as Eli loved her, that embarrassment had made it easier to leave home when he’d had enough of Lance’s hostility, and his stepdad’s scorn.

“You’re not—disgusted?”

“Why would I be?” She held out her hand, pausing before she touched his wing. “May I?”

“Sure.”

He held perfectly still as her fingers brushed one of the stone feathers. “It’s warm,” she whispered, her eyes wide. “I didn’t expect that.”

Eli smiled, not afraid of scaring her this time. “I may be stone, but I’m living stone.” Slowly, he lowered his wing and curled it around her.

She ran her hand along the top of his wing, laughing. “This is incredible.” She tipped her chin up and met Eli’s eyes. “Why aren’t you working at the fountain?”

“I don’t enjoy shifting. It’s never been easy for me, and when my mom discovered I wasn’t titan-class, she didn’t—it doesn’t matter.”

“Eli.” Lidia reached up and brushed his jaw. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“Then, as your friend, I’m going to tell you that you’re perfect. No matter what class you are, or what size, or what color, you’re perfect just as you are.”

He wanted to wrap his arms around her, let her know just how much her words meant to him.

But his stone arms could be intimidating, with the powerful, defined muscles, and the long, sharp claws that allowed his kind to cling to narrow ledges, and the edge of rooftops.

Instead, he bowed his head. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Even he heard the emotion in his rumbling voice. “I never planned for you to see this,” he gestured to himself. “But I’m glad you did.”

“So am I. Oh—I came over to tell you that we’re having an informal party tonight. Just pizza and Harry’s favorite action movies. You’re welcome to come.”

“Thanks for the invite.” He made an effort not to look at his left arm. “I’ll see how I feel later. Sometimes shifting leaves me done for the day.”

“I can’t believe that—with all your muscle.” She squeezed his bicep—or tried to, laughing when her fingers pressed against unyielding stone. “You really are solid. And so warm. That’s still surprising.”

She shocked him again by moving in and wrapping her arms around his waist. Carefully, he returned the embrace, barely touching her.

“Thank you for trusting me, Eli.” After a final squeeze, she stepped back. He lowered his wings, so she wouldn’t run into them. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Maybe,” he said. “I’ll do my best.”

“If you don’t, I’ll save some pizza for you.”

“Appreciate it. Lidia.” She turned, her hand on the gate latch. “Thanks for—” He cleared his throat. “Just—thanks.”

She smiled. “Anytime, handsome.”

After she left, Eli took the time to spread his wings, and swoop across the yard a few times. His left arm felt as strong and normal as his right, and he wondered if he might not be able to fight whatever Jessup had infected him with if he stayed—

Cold-fire pain shot through him.

His wings collapsed, and he hit the grass, hard. By the time he rolled over, on to his back, he had shifted to human form, and hurt, everywhere.

He kept still, focused on breathing—and tried not to think about what could have thrown him out of his true form.

Whoever did this to him wanted him to suffer, and be absolutely helpless to stop it.

Endless minutes later, he felt strong enough to try and sit. That took a solid ten minutes, left him sweat-soaked and shaking. The next step, standing, took the rest of his strength.

Using the fence to support him, he limped around the perimeter of the yard, not trusting himself to walk across the grass without something to grab, in case his legs gave out on him.

Finally, he clutched the back wall of the house, fighting for breath. Once he was sure he could make it without toppling, he shuffled along the length of the wall, his target the wide Adirondack chair sitting under the worn cedar cover. He let go of the wall and stumbled forward, catching the arm of the chair.

With a ragged sigh, he lowered himself to the chair, resting before he dragged his legs up, stretching them out on the chair. Another sharp pain jolted through his arm. He waited until the pain eased, then dug the ointment out of his pocket and smeared more on the source.

His hand froze when he noticed that the mark was bigger.

Considerably bigger.

He set the ointment on the small teak side table, expecting to need it soon. Good thing Doc Mead was ordering more—this tube was already half gone.

“What did you do to me, Jessup?”

The more important question was, who hated Elias enough to hire someone to do this?

~ * ~

“Max!” The voice startled Eli awake. “Max—come out, right now, mister, or it’s plain kibble for dinner.”

He straightened, his back aching from his awkward position in the chair. Jeez—he’d fallen asleep in his own backyard, like a frail old man.

The source of Lidia’s shouting raced into view, coming from the direction of the front yard.

“Hey, handsome,” he said, reaching down for the black cat. “Hiding out, are we?”

Max meowed in agreement, then hopped into Eli’s lap and curled around himself, purring like an engine.

Lidia stomped around the corner of the house and halted, hands on her hips. “There you are, you little monster.”

Eli bit back a smile. “What did he do this time?”

“Dug up all the bulbs I just planted.” Her eyes narrowed. “He’s just lucky he didn’t chew on them, or there would be caticide, instead of confinement to the house.”

Max stretched out across Eli’s lap, looking supremely unconcerned. Eli laughed, rubbing his exposed stomach.

“I don’t think he’s worried about his impending sentence.”

“Well, he should be. I mean it this time.” She let out a sigh and lowered her arms. “But then Max will give me his big, sad cat eyes, and I’ll cave.”

They both looked down at Max, who stared at Lidia, his green eyes wide and seriously pathetic.

“Would that be the sad cat eyes?”

Her shoulders slumped. “Yeah. Come here, you four-legged manipulator.”

Eli started to lift Max off his lap, forgetting about his left arm. He let out a raw gasp and tucked his arm against his side. When he lifted his head, Lidia had Max in her arms, and both of them studied him.

“Are you all right, Eli?”

He pushed hair off his forehead, noticing for the first time that it was damp, and that sweat slicked his forehead. Not a good sign. He didn’t want to add to her already long list, with the wedding plans. But he also didn’t want her to worry about him.

“Yeah. Just tired.”

“Not from transforming earlier? No—it isn’t just that. You’ve been playing hermit for a couple of days now.” She was his neighbor, and his friend. She would have noticed that he hadn’t been out of his house since her party.

“I cut myself on a job, and it got infected. Nothing serious. I already got some ointment for it.”

“The same cut that was bothering you the night of my party?”

“Yeah. I thought it would get better.” That part wasn’t a lie; he had hoped it would get better on its own. “When it didn’t, I made an appointment at the clinic.”

“Is that kind of thing dangerous for—your kind?”

He smiled. Lidia still had a hard time believing she lived next door to a gargoyle. Obviously, watching him shift hadn’t changed that. “Nope. I’ll heal up fine.” If Doc can figure out what’s wrong with me. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind. “Did you want some sweet tea? I’ve got a batch in the fridge.”

She shook her head, almost managing to hide her disgust. “Thank you for the offer. Harry’s waiting on me and the escapee.”

He smiled. “I hope you let him off easy.”

“Oh—he already knows he’s getting away with it. I figured he’d come running straight to your place.” She looked down at the black cat in her arms. “He adores you.”

“It’s mutual.” Eli stood, after making sure he would be able to get out of the chair without keeling over, or worse. What had happened during the shift scared him, more than he would admit, even to himself. No more shifting—or anything—until Doc figured out what was wrong with him. “And he’s welcome here, anytime.”

“I’m sure he already decided that your house is an open invitation.” Lidia studied him as she petted Max. “My magic might still be on the fritz, but I recognize someone in pain when I see it.”

Eli shrugged. “I’ve been to see Doc Mead, so don’t worry about me.”

“Sophie?” She smiled. “Good. She’s the best at treating us. If you need anything, let me know, okay? Don’t follow the ‘it will threaten my manhood’ line of thinking. I know you can take care of yourself, Eli. Sometimes, we all need a little help.” She touched his right hand. “Don’t be afraid to ask for it.”

He nodded, his throat tight.

Lidia flashed him one last smile and headed around the corner of the house, talking to Max as she disappeared. She was happy, and it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person. Eli knew he wasn’t the only one sending positive thoughts her way about her power—

A nasty, stabbing pain almost doubled him over his arm.

He gripped the back of the chair, took deep breaths until the pain eased. When he could see straight, he looked down at his arm.

The mark had just become a blotch.

Four

Sophie stopped at home long enough to pack an overnight bag, then headed to her family’s remote, rambling estate.

It was a two-hour drive with traffic on her side, and she was hoping to find what she needed without being forced to spend the night.

That would mean dinner with her parents.

She shuddered, and sped up.

To distract herself, she mentally walked through the huge library. The Mead family had the largest, most comprehensive collection of medical texts on supernaturals in the country. Sophie had learned most of what she knew from them, and their eccentric caretaker, Charles Pemberton.

He was the family curator, ruling over the library—and all the family collections—like a mother hen.

She smiled as she thought of him. Charles was the only member of the household she missed, and the one person who understood her defection to Nocturne Falls. He was expecting her, and she hoped he would be around to consult. This case would take all of her research skills.

Her heart skipped at the memory of Elias, and seeing the mark on his arm. It had been solid and dense as stone. If it spread, before she could stop it—

“Enough,” she muttered. “No need to borrow trouble.”

Charles would be the first one to say that to her.

She spent the rest of the trip making mental lists of the books she needed to check. She had given Charles a list of some of them when she’d called to let him know she was coming. The library was his domain, so it was more like asking permission than letting him know. She smiled, and looked forward to bantering with him.

By the time she reworked her list for the third time, the private road came up on her left.

She swung into it, immediately engulfed by the huge, old magnolias lining the long driveway. Mead House had once been a grand plantation, ready to fall apart from neglect, and marked for destruction when her parents bought it.

They had gone far beyond restoring the huge mansion, buying up the property that had once been part of the plantation, and building cottages for their extended family. It was a safe place for supernaturals. Ironically, her parents saw Nocturne Falls as a weak copycat—and competition.

Sophie’s move there was seen as a betrayal.

She sighed, and pulled into one of the spaces on the right side of the circular drive. The garage, meant for immediate family, was off limits to her now. The sleek grey Jaguar parked in the first garage gave her advanced warning that her mother was home.

Gathering up her bags and her coat, she stepped out of her sporty two-seater, and walked across the drive to the front door. It opened before she reached the threshold.

Her mother, Arietta Mead, stood in the doorway, frowning. She looked perfect, as usual; not a blonde hair out of place, her favorite strand of pearls peeking through the neckline of her tailored pink silk blouse.

“Sophina.”

Sophie flinched at her full name. She never used it, and no one outside of her family even knew that Sophie wasn’t her name.

“Good afternoon, Mother.” She stopped, leaned down to kiss Arietta’s cheek. “I came to use the library. I phoned ahead, and Charles approved my request.”

“Very well. He could have notified me.”

Sophie swallowed her sigh. “He told me he would. I’m sorry if I surprised you, Mother. I only plan to be here a couple of hours, so you won’t have to rearrange dinner.”

She walked past Arietta, heading for the stairs.

“Sophina.” Arietta’s rigid tone warned her. She turned in time to find her mother reaching out to grab her arm. “This is your home—ˮ

“And you and Father have made it abundantly clear that I’m not welcome. Not as long as I live and work in Nocturne Falls.”

Arietta bristled. “They are not like us.”

“That’s where you’re right. They’re not at all like you. They care about each other, no matter where they came from, what they are. Or what they aren’t.”

Sophie ran up the stairs before she could hear anymore. Being taller than her mother did have its advantages.

Charles met her in the library, and bless him, he had already pulled some of the books she requested.

“Welcome home, Miss Sophie.” He bowed slightly, his crisp British accent making her feel welcome for the first time since she stepped inside the house. “I’ve laid out the books I feel will be most helpful to you. While you study those, I will fetch the rest.”

“Thank you, Charles.” She kissed his cheek, this time with affection, instead of a sense of duty.

His smile was worth facing her parents.

Sophie watched him stride over to the enclosed room with the rare books. A special system kept the temperature and moisture at ideal levels for the ancient, irreplaceable books. She had a feeling she knew which book he was after; a French medical text, written by one of the men who had cared for the gargoyles at Notre Dame.

Some of the weight on her heart eased. La Pierre de Notre could very well hold the answer to what was happening to Elias. What he had been inflicted with.

She set her doctor’s bag, coat, and overnight bag on the floor, sat at the long table in the center of the library and opened the first book, smiling. Charles would have arranged them in the order he thought would be most useful. This book, a collection of a popular supernatural medical journal, held issues concerning unusual afflictions.

Nothing came close to what she saw on Elias’ arm.

With a sigh, she put it aside, and moved on to the next book.

She had almost finished the pile when Charles returned, carrying several small, worn books. They had arrived in that condition, but she knew Charles had restored them as much as he could, and took care of them. That he trusted her with the precious books was an honor.

Carefully, he set each book on the table. “I believe the Notre volume will be of the most use to you, Miss Sophie.”

“Thank you, Charles. I was hoping you’d bring that one.”

He stripped off the white cotton gloves he wore and sat across from her. “Tell me more about his symptoms.”

“I’ve never seen it before, Charles.” She took a hairband out of her pocket and used it to pull her hair back. Being able to discuss her fears, her doubts, with a man who wouldn’t condemn her for it, felt liberating. Comforting, in a way she never felt with her family. “Elias told me he had been punctured with something sharp. The site of the wound is now stone, and it keeps spreading.”

“He feels pain?”

She nodded. “But not continuous. He told me it’s sudden, sharp, and afterward, the stone spreads. I’ve never seen anything like it, Charles. Not that I’ve treated many gargoyles, but even so, I’ve never even heard of anything that could cause this.”

“Neither have I, miss. But I may know someone who has, if you will allow me to discuss the case. Anonymously, of course.”

“That would be great, Charles.” She reached across the table and took his hand. “I miss talking to you.”

“If you came home more often, Miss Sophie—but I understand why you stay in your Halloween town.”

She smiled. “Nocturne Falls, Charles. And it’s quite charming, despite what my parents say about it.”

“I imagine. Perhaps I will come and see this spectacle for myself.”

Her heart skipped, but she refused to push him on it. He hadn’t been more than a few miles from the estate in years. “I would love to have you, Charles. Anytime.”

He patted her hand and stood. “I will leave you to your research, miss. Tea will be here shortly, served over there.” He pointed at the small round table on the opposite side of the library, well away from any books. “Please ring for me if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, Charles.”

Sophie watched him walk out, then sighed. As much as she adored him, and missed him, Charles wasn’t enough reason to face down the scorn of her parents.

Once upon a time, her mother had believed in her skills, even trained her in some of the small healing magics. At least she had, until Sophie’s talent stalled, and it became glaringly obvious that she was never going to move past them, never have the power her parents had hoped for.

After that, no matter how well she did, at anything, the glaring absence had marked her as inferior.

Imperfect.

It was easier now to talk about them in the past tense, pretend that they were dead, and no longer part of her life, than to deal with the pain of their rejection. No one in Nocturne Falls knew that Arietta and Josiah Mead were actually alive and well.

She shoved the pointless train of thought aside, and focused on the books. After slipping on a pair of cotton gloves from the box Charles kept on the table, she carefully opened de Notre.

Her French was rusty, but as she read, the translation flowed more easily in her mind.

“My care of the gargoyles here, in this sacred place, has taken a turn. They find themselves unable to change at will any longer, trapped in the stone bodies that protect and watch over Notre Dame. My heart aches at their suffering, and I will continue to search for a way to help them.”

Sophie kept reading, excited by the prospect that the author had learned more. But by the time she reached the end, she was as unsatisfied as he had been.

The Notre Dame gargoyles had never been healed. Never been freed from whatever held them, trapped them in their stone form.

She worked her way through the other small books, finding nothing but more frustration.

Whatever had been given to Elias had no known cure.

~ * ~

By the time Sophie finished, and helped Charles put the books away, it was too late to head back.

Fortunately, she had also missed dinner, so she would only have to endure an uncomfortable breakfast.

After wishing Charles a good night, she slung her overnight bag over her shoulder, picked up her doctor’s bag and her coat. The last few hours had exhausted her, left her heartsick. She hated not being able to find the answer for her patients. This time, failing to find the answer may cost Elias his life.

“Stop it,” she whispered. “The game’s not over yet.” She climbed the stairs, and turned right, headed for her old room.

She had a half-formed plan that involved sneaking out before her parents woke in the morning. But since their hearing was as acute as a cat’s, she’d only look like a fool when she was caught.

“Better to suck it up,” she muttered, “and get a good breakfast out of the deal.”

Knowing what she faced tomorrow, along with her failure to find an answer, should have hindered any attempt at sleeping.

Her brain had other ideas, and shut her down just a few minutes after her head touched the pillow.

~ * ~

The knock at the door startled Sophie out of a sound sleep.

She forced herself to keep moving by sitting, then standing, then shuffling across her room. A second, impatient knock had her shuffling faster.

“Sophina? Are you awake?”

Sophie braced herself and opened the door. “Good morning, Mother.”

Arietta stood in the hallway, arms crossed, the familiar line between her eyes. “You missed breakfast.”

Blinking, Sophie looked over at the clock. It was just past seven. “I thought breakfast was at eight. I set my alarm to—ˮ

“You should have thought to check with someone in the household. Breakfast is now at 6:30, to give us an early start on the day.”

“Sorry, Mother. You’re right—I should have asked, instead of assuming. I’ll get ready to go.”

Sophie started to close the door—and Arietta startled her again by grabbing it.

“Sophina. I need—I would like to speak with you.”

“About?” She already had a good idea, but asking couldn’t hurt. Much.

“Your career path.”

“Mother—we already discussed this, ad nauseum. You’re not going to change my mind. My skills and knowledge are badly needed in Nocturne Falls. I love living there, and I can’t see myself anywhere else, doing anything else.”

“Not even a prestigious internship with Dr. Hyland Rede?”

It took all of Sophie’s control to keep from rolling her eyes.

Hyland Rede practiced what he liked to call “supernatural healing” on his unfortunate patients. Sophie called it what it really was: experimenting on people desperate for a cure. Any cure.

“I’m a doctor, Mother, not fresh out of school. I have my own practice, my own patients, and I deal with real medicine, not hoodoo idiocy.”

“He—you—how dare you? In my house—ˮ

“It used to be mine, as well. I guess I finally wore out my already tattered welcome. Goodbye, Mother.” Sophie closed the door on Arietta’s outrage, and locked it for good measure.

Then she slid down to the floor and wrapped both arms around her legs, lowering her forehead to her knees.

“Goodbye, childhood,” she whispered.

She would never be forgiven for speaking her mind. Or missing breakfast, or opening the door in nothing but a wrinkled, oversized t-shirt, or any of the hundred little things she had done wrong since stepping through the front door.

No matter how well she did at anything, the fact that she was essentially human would always brand her. Only a trace of the potential power had been inherited from her parents. Except for her heightened awareness, and the ability to do the smallest spells, she was as normal as the tourists who flocked to Nocturne Falls for the atmosphere.

It was time to stop beating herself up for something she couldn’t control, and get on with her life. If her parents were ashamed of her, they’d have to deal with it on their own. Sophie wasn’t going to be here for them to verbally beat up. Not again.

If they wanted to see her, they would have to come to Nocturne Falls.

The thought of never coming home again, never bantering with Charles again, or touching the books she had grown up loving, hurt more than she expected. Maybe she could talk him into a visit, show him why she decided on the quirky town as her adopted home—

A second, urgent knock scared a gasp out of her.

She stood, grabbing her robe off the back of the chair and shrugging into it before she opened the door. Charles stood on the other side, such anguish on his face that Sophie knew he’d had words with her mother.

“Miss Sophie—ˮ

She cut him off by hugging him, her face pressed into his shoulder.

Charles rubbed her back, his quiet voice soothing her. “You will be fine, love. You are the strongest young woman it has been my pleasure to know.”

She lifted her head and met his eyes. “How are you so untainted by them?”

“I am not related, miss.” He smiled when she let out a watery laugh. “It makes distancing myself infinitely easier. I know you won’t be returning anytime soon. I wanted to say goodbye, and wish you all the best.”

She hugged him again. “Goodbye for now, Charles. You’re welcome to visit me. I have a guest room, and my door is always open for you.”

He tightened his arms around her. “I accept.”

“You do?” She had expected him to give her a polite refusal.

“I would like to return with you, to help you find a way to treat this gargoyle.” He freed her and stepped back. “I believe he means more to you, that he is more than just a patient.”

She slumped against the doorway. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to someone who knows you as well as I do.” Charles took her hand. “As I mentioned before, I have contacts, with unique knowledge. One in particular may offer some insight. Please allow me to offer my assistance.”

“I accept—but only if it won’t get you in hot water with my parents.”

“I have accumulated quite a bit of holiday time. I informed Mrs. Mead that I will be using some of it, effective immediately.”

Panic skated through her. “Charles—you didn’t—ˮ

“She agreed, on one condition.” Sophie was afraid to hear what that might be. “I am to send reports of your—how did she put it? Ah—your wasted life.”

“Of course.” She smiled as she thought of ways to use those reports to her advantage. “Can I help you write them?”

“I would not expect anything else, Miss Sophie.”

“You’re going to have to start calling me Sophie. People will think you’re my servant, or—something else.”

Charles stared at her—then, to her shock, he burst out laughing. “Understood, miss. Sophie.”

“I’m going to get ready. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I look forward to the adventure.”

Sophie watched him stride down the hall, and swore he almost had a skip in his step. Charles had quietly protected her for years; it looked like he finally spoke up. Arietta must have been shocked to her toes.

“I wish I could have seen it,” she muttered, and closed the door. Muttering had become a habit, with parents who could hear a whisper from across the room.

The depression that had threatened her since she drove up to the estate lifted, and she felt almost giddy with relief. Charles was coming home with her.

She wouldn’t be alone in her quest to save Elias.

Five

Elias woke in a haze of pain—and panicked when he couldn’t feel his left arm.

“Deep breaths, man. Just breathe, then check it.”

He took his own advice, and waited until his heart stopped trying to pound out of his chest to look down at his arm.

The stone blotch now encased his forearm.

Elias cursed under his breath and reached for the tube of ointment he’d left on his nightstand. He didn’t think about the eight-plus hours he’d be asleep, not applying it.

Hoping his theory was right, he slathered the ointment on his stone arm, using up the last of the tube before he’d even covered half. To his relief, the stone under the ointment started to soften. Unfortunately, since he’d just run out, the rest of his forearm ached. It also felt heavier than when he shifted, like it was solid, unbreathable stone.

“Doc,” he whispered. “Need to get to Doc Mead.”

He eased out of bed, deciding to wear a pair of sweats, a button-down shirt. Those he could get on one-handed. He’d look like he dressed in the dark, but at least he’d be covered. Flip-flops would complete the crazy outfit.

Hopefully, it was still early enough that his neighbors wouldn’t be out.

Eli felt like a thief, sneaking out the back door of his own house. He walked down the side yard, stopping to check for anyone passing by. The coast was clear, for now.

With his left arm pressed against his side, he strode quickly along the sidewalk, not taking a full breath until he left Cauldron Lane and reached the main street. Even if Doc Mead wasn’t in her office yet, he’d wait for her. His arm felt heavier, and oddly breakable. The thought that he could move it wrong, or hit something and snap off a finger—or his hand—terrified him in a way he’d never been terrified before.

The second he felt like his arm wouldn’t be a hazard, Eli was hunting Jessup down and forcing him to confess.

The med clinic came into view, and Eli picked up his pace. Relief threatened to buckle his knees when he saw Doc’s car in the parking lot; he pushed the door open, protecting his left arm, and halted when he saw that she wasn’t alone.

“Elias?” She strode over to him, concern in her clear blue eyes. “What is...oh, no.” Her hands were gentle when she cradled his left arm. “Can you make it to the exam room?”

He nodded, not looking at the man behind her. “I ran out of ointment.”

“I have more. It arrived this morning. Elias, this is my friend, Charles Pemberton. He’s been helping me with research, so he knows what is happening. Please, don’t be embarrassed, or worried. Charles is the epitome of discreet.”

Eli nodded, let her lead him into the back, down the hall, to a chair in the first exam room. He felt like a fragile kid, ready to keel over at any second. For a gargoyle, that feeling was more than a little unsettling. Eli had been strong and capable his entire life. He’d never even had more than a mild cold, until this.

“Charles,” Doc Mead’s quiet voice jerked him back to the present. “Can you fetch the box on the front counter?”

“Of course, miss—Sophie.” His clipped British accent should have surprised Eli. But it suited the man, fit him like the obviously custom tailored suit he wore.

“Elias, I need you to tell me what happened this morning.”

He did, his voice shaking by the time he finished. Whatever Jessup had infected him with was stealing his strength, along with his human form.

“I’m scared, Doc,” he whispered, refusing to meet her eyes when he said the words.

She didn’t give him the chance to hide; she cupped his chin, and applied pressure until he looked at her. “If you weren’t scared, Elias, I’d be worried. And, please, call me Sophie.”

“Okay.” He was too exhausted to say anything else.

Sophie seemed to sense it, because she helped him stand, and led him out of the exam room. “I have a sofa in my office. I want you to stretch out, take a nap if you need to. Charles is making some calls, and hopefully, we’ll have some answers for you soon.”

“I have a job at Delaney’s. I need to call—”

“I’ll let her know you won’t be coming in.”

“Thanks.” He knew Delaney would understand, but he hated letting her down.

His arm throbbed as he followed Sophie down the hall. It hurt less to cradle it against his chest, but strange when he couldn’t feel the pressure of his hand against his forearm.

He walked into the roomy office. She wasn’t kidding about the sofa. It was long enough for even his six foot plus to stretch out, and he did, after she left. He didn’t want to groan, or possibly whimper, in front of her. His arm throbbed like a toothache, even after she slathered it with ointment. And it looked like the ointment wasn’t working as well as it had. Like the infection was becoming resistant to it.

Eli closed his eyes, let the sofa support his arm, and drifted off, hoping that Sophie would have some good news for him when he woke.

~ * ~

Charles was hanging up the phone in her lab when Sophie walked in.

“Anything?”

He shook his head, and she almost sagged in disappointment. After seeing Elias stumble into her clinic, exhausted and scared, she needed to find answers, and fast.

“Sophie.” Charles moved to her side and wrapped his arm around her. “We are not defeated yet. I have several calls to make yet, and another thought came to me while I was talking to my last contact. Do you still have the book I gave you on voodoo curses?”

“Yes.” She frowned at him. “You don’t seriously think—ˮ

“There is a passage from the book that might give us a direction. I recall most of it, but I would like to refresh my memory.”

“I’ll go get it, and some food for all of us while I’m out. I need to make a call first, then I’ll head out.” She hugged Charles. “Thank you.”

“I understand, now that I have seen him. He has a strong aura, Sophie. A good aura.”

Charles rarely used his talents, but he was a sorcerer, like her father, and had specialized in reading people before he came to work for the Mead family.

She nodded, and picked up the phone he had just been using. Delaney Ellingham had become a friend over the last few months, all because of Sophie’s secret sweet tooth.

During her first visit to Delaney’s Delectables, the mouth-watering sweet shop, she had confessed to Delaney, bought two pounds of her incredible truffles, and begged Delaney not to tell anyone. A doctor who couldn’t control her urge for chocolate wouldn’t be a respected doctor for long.

Delaney was happy to keep her secret—and feed her addiction. Discreetly.

As she punched in Delaney’s shop number, an urge for a rich, dark chocolate truffle right now had her mouth watering. Maybe she would treat herself, once she got Charles settled at her house.

Delaney picked up on the first ring. “Thank you for calling Delaney’s Delectables, what can I tempt you with today?”

Sophie smiled. “Hi Delaney, it’s Sophie Mead.”

“Sophie! I just created a new truffle, and I’d love you to be my taster.”

“It would be my pleasure. I’m calling for another reason. Elias Saunders is in my office—”

“Is he okay?” The concern in Delaney’s voice had Sophie rushing to explain.

“He will be fine, but he won’t be able to work for a few days. Doctor’s orders.” She tried to make her voice as light as possible. “But I’m sure he would appreciate some of your chocolate. I’ll stop by in about an hour.”

“You’ll tell me more about his condition?”

“As much as I can. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay.” Delaney sighed. “I’m guessing you don’t want me to say anything to Hugh.”

“If you can keep it to yourself, I’m sure Elias would appreciate it.”

“Consider my lips zipped.”

Sophie laughed, drawing Charles’ attention. “Thank you. I’ll tell you what I can when I see you.” She hung up, and turned to Charles. “Still have that sweet tooth?”

He raised an eyebrow. “And if I do?”

“I have a source.”

“Then I will have to admit that I still do, if you have a source.”

She smiled, squeezing his hand. “We can indulge together. Delaney’s truffles are seriously to die for. I have to get my purse, then I’ll head out.”

Her purse was in her office, but she could be quiet. Besides, it would give her an excuse to check on Elias.

He was sound asleep, but pain still etched lines into his face. Sophie crouched next to him, gently examined his left arm. The ointment seemed to be holding the transformation at bay, for now. Hopefully, the lead Charles found would be the answer they desperately needed.

Careful not to wake him, she brushed sweat damp hair off his forehead, and took the chance to study him.

He was so powerful, but leaner than some of the other gargoyles she had met in Nocturne Falls. She knew his true form was a cat, and that might have something to do with his sleeker physique. He was still an impressive specimen—one she wanted to get to know better.

All she had to do was keep him from turning into a real statue.

She stood, walked quietly out of her office, stopping at the reception desk. Pat had arrived while she was in the back.

“I’m going out to run an errand. Elias Saunders is in my office, asleep. Can you check on him for me? I should be back within the hour.”

“Take your time, Sophie. Your first appointment isn’t until noon. I’ll keep an eye on Mr. Gorgeous.”

She winked, and Sophie turned away before the blush gave her up.

“Thank you.”

She took a few deep breaths as she headed out the back to her car.

Before she reached the parking lot, she changed her mind and decided to walk. It wasn’t far, and she would get to her destination faster on foot—especially if she cut through some of the side streets. That way, she could leave an order with Sally, at the local deli, and pick it up on her way back.

She cut between two novelty shops—and almost ran into the figure that stepped out to block the end of the narrow sidewalk.

“Sorry,” she said, and started to move past him.

“You Dr. Mead?”

“Yes.” Concern pushed aside her mild annoyance. “Can I help you? Are you hurt?”

She let out a startled cry when he shoved her against the wall. He looked human, but up close, he stank of troll.

“You can keep your nose out of places it don’t belong.” He wrapped his thick fingers around her throat, and squeezed just enough to scare her. “Leave Saunders alone. Got it?”

She managed to nod, and the troll glared at her for endless seconds before he finally let go.

He stalked away from her, the mottled green of his natural skin tone leaking through his human façade. Sophie recognized the ring that appeared with the color.

Her father wore the same ring, as did Charles. The ring that every member of his coven wore—along with their loyal servants.

Which told her that Elias was in much more danger than she first thought.

Six

Sophie forgot about the deli, and nearly forgot about stopping in to see Delaney. The troll’s threat, and her nasty discovery, still had her reeling.

She only remembered when she ran past the sweet shop. Skidding to a halt, she backtracked and walked inside, hoping she didn’t look as frazzled as she felt.

“Sophie—how are...” Delaney’s voice faded, and Sophie knew she hadn’t hidden her recent scare well. Delaney moved out from behind the counter and wrapped her arm around Sophie’s waist. “What happened?”

The incident spilled out before Sophie could stop herself. By the time she finished, Delaney had her in the back of the shop, on a chair, a truffle in her hand.

“I can’t stay, Delaney. I’m on my way to—ˮ

“You can sit for a minute, catch your breath. You still look like death.”

“Thanks.”

Delaney laughed, and pushed the truffle to Sophie’s mouth. “Eat. Nothing smooths the bumps like chocolate.”

After the first heavenly bite, Sophie couldn’t disagree. Hints of orange and—maybe lavender? Whatever was in the creamy filling, it tasted incredible. She finished it in two bites and stood, less shaky, and more determined than ever to help Elias.

“Thank you. Whatever you just gave me, I’ll take a dozen, and pick them up later, with my usual order.”

“You got it. Sophie.” Her serious tone halted Sophie in the doorway. “If you need to talk, about anything, I’m here.”

“Thank you.”

Sophie hurried out of the shop, speed walking to make up for the time she lost. When she reached her front door, she was sweaty, out of breath, and ready for another break.

Too much time sitting with my patient files, and not enough time at the treadmill.

She’d have to change that, especially with her recent intake of chocolate.

After unlocking her front door—and taking a long look around her for any skulking trolls—she headed for her much smaller library. Charles had sent her quite a few books since she had moved to Nocturne Falls, but she remembered the one he requested; she had almost given it to the local thrift shop after she opened it.

She pulled the thin book from her shelf, wondering what passage Charles thought could help.

“He’ll show you himself,” she muttered, and slipped the book into her purse.

Her trip back to the clinic was faster—and on well-populated main streets. She decided she would call Delaney and ask for her order to be delivered to the clinic. She’d risk the ding to her reputation if a patient saw the recognizable bag.

Charles waited for her in the lab, and caught her hands the second she walked in.

“What happened?”

“I’m fine, Charles.” She took the book out of her purse to distract him, and handed it over.

It didn’t work. He set it on the table and closed his hands over her shoulders. “Tell me.”

“You find the passage you were talking about first, then I’ll tell you.”

He sighed, but gave in and picked up the book, skimming through it. “Here.” He held it out to her, his finger on a spot at the top of the page. “Read it all before you start your argument.”

Sophie understood his statement after the second sentence—and realized this wasn’t a book about voodoo.

Nonbelievers outnumber us. But as true Druids, we know the truth. We will protect that truth and spread it until all know and understand. That the power of the mind can wound, that curses are real, that those who seek to harm for their own gain must be stopped, whatever the cost.

Even now, innocents suffer, marked by power hungry supernaturals. We welcome the chance to help, to heal, to change their fate—though often, that fate means losing what they are, in order to survive what has been done to them.

She looked at Charles. “You knew, didn’t you? That this book was written by Marc.” Her father’s oldest friend, and bitterest rival. She looked at the cover, and found a ridiculous pen name. “Why did you send this to me?”

“To keep your father from destroying it. There are truths, Sophie, and then there are truths. Josiah Mead refuses to believe any but those that conveniently line up with his philosophy.”

She flinched at the anger in his voice. Anger she had never heard from him before now. “Why do you believe Marc can help?”

“Because what was done to your Elias carries one of those curses. He was not merely poisoned, Sophie. I saw the taint in his aura; a curse has been laid over that poison, one guaranteed to keep him from ridding himself of it.” Charles rubbed his forehead. “Whoever wants him brought down used his own abilities against him. He is supposed to turn to stone—it is his nature. Stopping it will change what he is.”

Understanding left Sophie breathless.

She sat, her legs shaking. “I can’t heal him,” she whispered. “Because to heal him, I’d have to strip out his true self.”

“I am so sorry.” Charles crouched in front of her and took her hands. “I feared as much, but I wanted to be certain that what I remembered from the book was true. That you would have a place to take Elias for help, before I spoke.”

Her head snapped up. “You want—you think I should take Elias to him? He defied the coven, Charles. My parents would disown me if I so much as breathed in his direction.”

“And this is where you make your choice, Miss Sophie.” Charles freed her hand and stood, his voice as formal and distant as a servant. Her parents’ servant. “Do you choose a family who does not care for you, or a man who needs what only you can provide?”

She lowered her head. Charles was right; hearing it out loud hurt, but not as much as the thought of losing Elias because of misplaced loyalties.

“Do you know where Marc is?” She met his steady gaze, and received her answer. “You’ve known, all this time, haven’t you?”

“Your father wanted him dead, Sophie. A sentence he did not deserve, for speaking out. For speaking the truth.”

Because she hadn’t been at the meeting, she could only take Charles’ word for what had happened. Her father had ranted for days, threatening an old-fashioned witch hunt when Marc disappeared without leaving a trace of his power—or a trail to follow.

“I have to help him, Charles.”

“Good. I will take you to Marc, but only you can persuade him.”

“Oh.” Her family ties weren’t going to help much.

Charles seemed to read her mind. “Marc knows about you, about the scorn from your family. I am afraid you were the topic of more than one coven meeting.”

“I’m not surprised. When can we leave?”

“Let me ring him, let him know. He will not turn you away without hearing your appeal, Sophie. But I must let him know, so he can lower the barrier.”

“Right.” She could detect a basic glamour, but she would never see any serious magical barrier—not before she walked straight into it.

“I will give him notice, then you will tell me why you returned looking like you had seen a ghost.”

“I’d like to know, too.” Elias leaned against the doorway, cradling his left arm. Charles deserted her, waving his cell phone as he walked past Elias, leaving them alone. “You found a way to help me?”

“A start. It means leaving Nocturne Falls, and meeting with a group of Druids.”

“Seriously? They still exist?”

“It’s a new group. Formed a few years ago. I’m acquainted with their leader, and Charles helped him establish the group, so he’s getting us an introduction. Are you up for a road trip?”

“If you’re driving.” He gave her a crooked smile, waving at his arm.

“Of course. I meant—ˮ

“I know what you meant, Doc. I like teasing you. That blush you get looks good on you.”

She could feel it again, heating her cheeks. Standing, she used the need to set her purse on the table as an excuse to turn away from him, give herself a chance to recover.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” Elias refused to let her escape. He stopped next to her, his shoulder brushing hers. “Now spill, Doc. What happened?”

“Nothing important.” She knew if she told Elias, he would turn into an overprotective supernatural. They all did; it was in their nature, centuries old. Protect the females. “What is important is getting you—ˮ

“Nice try.” He stepped in front of her, his face serious. “Please, tell me.”

Charles appeared in the doorway, nodding to her. She took a shaky breath, and met Elias’ steady gaze.

“A troll stopped me in town, warned me off helping you.”

“Did he hurt you?” Elias grabbed her wrist, his grip like iron. “Did he hurt you?”

“Just scared me. It was a warning, Elias, and it didn’t work. I’m still going to help you.”

“Nope. Sorry.” He let her go, and backed away when she moved toward him. “No one else is getting hurt because of me.”

“Elias—”

“No, Doc.”

He strode down the hall. Sophie followed him, glad for her long legs. She managed to catch up to him in the waiting area.

“If you leave, Elias, you will only get worse.”

He stilled, his right hand clenched into a fist. “And if I don’t,” he glanced over his shoulder. “You’ll get hurt. I can’t live with that, Sophie.”

He walked out before she could recover enough to stop him.

Charles walked in from the back just after the door slammed closed. “Was that Elias?”

“He doesn’t want me hurt,” she whispered. She turned to Charles, and she knew the pain she felt showed on her face. “I have to find a way to help him.”

“Marc will not leave his enclave. But,” Charles closed his hand over her shoulder. “He has agreed to see you. If you can, bring Elias. Perhaps, knowing that a possible cure is waiting for him, he might agree to go with you.”

“I can only try.”

Sophie didn’t hold much hope.

Seven

Eli walked home. He’d headed to the clinic on foot, no longer able to maneuver the wheel and shift gears in his Jeep.

He almost didn’t make it.

Halfway down Cauldron Lane, the pain in his arm nearly doubled him. He pressed it against his side, and kept trudging forward. Thankfully, none of his neighbors were out, so he was able to make it to his front porch without embarrassing explanations.

After several deep breaths, most of them not quite steady, he used the railing to climb the steps to the porch. His hands shook as he pulled his keys out of his pocket, and he nearly dropped them when he tried to fit the key into the lock. Cursing under his breath, he managed to slide it in and open the door. His arm felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, and the thought of looking at it—of seeing just how far the poison had spread—scared him more than he thought it would.

He closed the door, and got as far as the chair in the foyer before he had to sit down. “Not good,” he muttered, wiping at the sweat that ran down his face. “Not good at all.”

The doorbell chimed, and he let out a groan before he pushed to his feet. Lightheaded, he used the wall to support him as he made his way to the front door. He had a feeling he knew who stood on the other side.

Sophie opened her mouth to talk as soon as he opened the door—then rushed forward to catch him when his knees buckled.

“I’ve got you,” she said. She eased him to the threshold, and laid one hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up, Elias. Please let me take you to see my friend.”

“The Druid?”

She nodded. “He’s agreed to examine you, but we have to go to him. Are you able to travel?”

“Maybe after you smear some more of that ointment on my arm.”

She gently laid his left arm across her knees, and pulled up his sleeve, revealing his forearm.

It was solid stone.

“Can you feel anything?”

Eli shook his head, his heart pounding as he stared at what was once a living arm. “Nothing,” he whispered.

Sophie pulled a tube of the ointment out of her purse, and applied a generous amount to his hand and his forearm. “Tell me if you feel anything—pain, heat, cold, anything.”

He wished he could feel her fingers on his arm. Sitting hip to hip, he felt a flare of need like nothing he’d ever known before. He studied her profile as she treated him; she had such delicate, smooth skin, but this close he saw the freckles on her cheeks, scattered over the bridge of her nose. Combined with her multi-streaked blonde hair, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever known.

He wasn’t going to put her in danger. Not again.

“Sophie—”

“Don’t even think it. Look at your arm, Elias.”

He did, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

Under the ointment, his fingers started to change, started to become flesh and bone again. But the rest of his arm—the rest of his arm stayed as solid and heavy as stone.

“Okay,” he said. “Where’s this Druid?”

~ * ~

Sophie got Elias into the passenger seat of her car, and ran around to slide into the driver’s seat. The fast degeneration of his arm terrified her and she needed to get into Marc as fast as she possibly could.

She drove the speed limit until they reached the outskirts of town, then she floored it. The powerful engine propelled them forward—and on the empty country road, she pushed their speed as high as she dared.

When she glanced at Elias, he was slumped in the seat, his left arm cradled in his lap. He stared straight ahead, but she could see the sweat running down his face, and the grim line of his mouth. She could also sense the fear rolling off him in waves.

“We’re almost there,” she said. “Do you need some water? I have several bottles.” She tapped the armrest between them, which had been converted into a cooler for any medicine she had to carry with her. When Elias nodded, she pulled it open and grabbed one of the bottles of water she kept stashed there. “Drink as much as you can. I have a feeling Marc will be taking blood. There’s also a bottle of orange juice in there, if you’d rather have that.”

“Sounds good.” He took the orange juice, and emptied it in two long swallows. “Hate to ask, but do you have any food? My stomach wasn’t ready for anything before I headed for the clinic.”

She pointed at the glovebox. “Granola bars and chocolate. Don’t worry about eating it all, I can replace it.”

“Thanks.”

She heard him munching on granola bars as she drove into the sunset. By the time they reached the spot Charles had marked on the map, the sun was touching the tops of the trees. She pulled in front of the giant oak, as instructed, and let herself relax as she looked at the grove of trees.

After a minute, the trees began to shimmer, and the glamour cleared, showing her what was behind it. Marc stood in the doorway of what looked like a building, heavily carved pillars on either side of him.

He stepped through the glamour, heading for her side of the car. “Welcome, Sophie.” He frowned as he studied Elias. “Is this the gargoyle?”

“He is,” Elias said.

To her surprise, Marc smiled. “Feisty. Works in your favor, gargoyle.”

“It’s Eli, not gargoyle.”

Marc bowed his head. “Welcome to the Grove, Eli.”

~ * ~

Marc led them into the building and down a long flight of stairs. Sophie kept glancing over her shoulder to see if Elias was all right. He winked at her, and nodded, but she could see that he used the wall on his right as a support. At least he was standing, and not doubled in pain.

The stairway ended at a huge, torch lit cavern, where half a dozen Druids in black cloaks waited for them.

“Cara will take a look at your arm,” Marc said, pointing to the Druid at the far right. She stepped forward, already reaching for Elias’ left arm.

“Can you move it at all?”

“Just from my shoulder,” Elias said. He swallowed when she lifted his arm, and more pain radiated from him.

“Stop,” Sophie said. “You’re hurting him.”

Cara froze, raising her eyebrow. “I know what I’m doing, mortal.” She made the last word sound like a slur.

“It’s Dr. Mortal to you, Druid.”

“How dare—”

“Enough.” Marc stepped to Sophie’s side and touched her shoulder. “Let her examine him. It’s going to hurt him, and she can’t do anything about that. But she needs to touch the arm in order to do what you want done.”

Sophie nodded, still not happy with what was about to happen.

Elias smiled at her. “I’m okay, Doc. I’ve hurt worse after a rough soccer game.”

She let Marc lead her to one side of the cavern, and lowered herself to a long wooden bench.

“What do you think?” she whispered, not certain she wanted the answer.

To her surprise, Marc took her hand. “I think you may have gotten him to us just under the wire, Sophie. I don’t recognize the poison—but I do sense the curse attached to it. He is meant to turn to stone. As slowly and painfully as possible.”

“I figured as much.” She leaned against the stone wall. “Can you do anything for him?”

“Cara will find out, once she’s done. I hope we can, for your sake.” He smiled when she looked over at him. “I’m not fond of gargoyles, myself, but I have always been fond of you, Sophie. You were—and are—the best of your family. It’s good to see that you managed to break free of Josiah’s influence.”

“I thought of it as growing up. You’re right,” she said. “As long as I stayed at the estate, I would be making compromises, sacrificing my life to my father’s wishes. I couldn’t live like that anymore.” She took his hand. “Once I left, I understood why you defied Josiah, why you walked away from the coven. He would refuse any of this.” She waved her hand at the cavern, and the Druids gathered around Elias. “He would hate that you weren’t following his way. What he sees as the only way.”

Marc chuckled. “You are as perceptive as I’d hoped, my dear girl.” He squeezed her hand before he let go. “Josiah must never know where we are. He would enjoy destroying everything I built here.”

“He’ll never hear it from me, Marc. I promise you.”

Cara waved to them and Sophie jumped to her feet, forcing herself not to run to Elias’ side.

“You were right, Master,” she said to Marc. “There’s a curse on the poison. A powerful curse, and it’s one I can’t remove.”

Despair threatened to choke Sophie. She took a deep breath, and looked at Cara. “What can you do?”

Marc answered for her. “Not enough, I’m afraid. But,” he held up his hand when Sophie opened her mouth to object. “I do know someone who can help you. The problem is, he may not want to, considering who you are.”

“Who? I will give him whatever he wants, do whatever he asks—”

“No, you won’t, Doc.” Elias turned to her, his fingers shaking when they closed over her wrist. “I won’t let you sacrifice anything for me. Got that?”

“Elias—”

“We’re not arguing. I’m telling you how it is—ˮ A sharp cry cut him off.

Sophie moved, but Cara moved faster, catching him around the waist and lowering him to the floor.

“Deep breaths, Eli. Slow, deep breaths. You can do it.” Cara cupped his chin, kept eye contact with him as he struggled to breathe. “That’s it—one breath at a time, and you’ll get there.”

Sophie knelt beside him, feeling more helpless than she had in quite some time. She was afraid to touch Elias; afraid she might bring him more pain than comfort. After endless minutes, his breathing evened out.

He managed a crooked smile. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Cara patted his cheek. “Anytime, gorgeous.”

Jealousy roared through Sophie, surprising her. She had never felt anything like it before. She put it down to feeling protective of Elias—and not a side effect of her ridiculous teenage crush.

She paced Elias as he stood, ready to help him if he asked for it. Marc stepped in front of him and laid one hand on his good arm.

“We can do no more for you here, but there is a sorcerer who might be able to help.”

“If I don’t go with you,” Sophie said.

Elias looked at her. “Family trouble?”

“Something like that. I can drive you, but I don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t help you.”

“If he’s going to hold a grudge just because you’re related to your own family, I don’t want his help.”

Panic skated through her. “Elias—”

“No argument, Doc. You don’t go, I don’t go.”

“Stubborn man.”

He smiled. “I’ve been called worse.” He held out his right hand to Marc. “Thank you, for letting us in, taking the time.”

“I agreed for Sophie,” Marc said. “But now that I’ve met you, well, you’re not so bad. For a gargoyle.”

“And you’re not half bad, for a Druid.”

Marc laughed, then turned to speak to Cara. Sophie used the time to examine him herself.

“How is your arm?”

“It’s been better.” He flinched when she touched his left shoulder. She unbuttoned his shirt enough to reveal his shoulder, and confirmed her worst fear.

The poison had spread.

Tendrils of stone curled around his broad shoulder, already claiming more flesh. When she eased the shirt further down, she revealed more stone-laced skin.

“Elias—”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“It’s part of the job description. Don’t keep anything from me again. Understood?”

He nodded, and she could tell the conversation was exhausting him. Carefully, she eased the shirt over his shoulder, buttoned it, and moved to Marc’s side.

“We need to go,” she said. “He’s getting worse.”

Marc nodded and led them back to the stairway. He glanced over his shoulder at Elias. “Can you make it back up to the top?”

Elias nodded. “Just take it slow.”

Marc did as he asked, climbing the stairs slowly enough for Elias to keep up. Sophie stayed at the back, in case Elias needed assistance—or lost his balance. She may not have been strong enough to keep him from toppling, but she could push him upright if he teetered.

They finally reached the top of the stairs, and Sophie gave in to her need to help. She lifted Elias’ right arm, draped it over her shoulders, and wrapped her arm around his waist. He didn’t argue. When they reached the car, Marc helped her settle Elias in the passenger seat, then closed the door.

“I waited until now to tell you exactly who you are going to see,” he said. “I wanted you to be able to react without your gargoyle witnessing.”

“Who is it, Marc?”

He studied her for an endless minute, before he spoke. “Jack Cross.”

The name was all he needed to say. Sophie closed her eyes, forcing herself to stay calm. When she looked at Marc again she saw the sympathy on his face.

“He won’t see me,” she said.

“Tell him I sent you. Start with that, and he will at least hear you out. Beyond that, I’m afraid you’re on your own, Sophie.”

“Thank you, for everything you’ve done. I know you didn’t have to see us, and I appreciate you revealing your location. My father will never know.”

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I trust you, my dear girl. I always have.”

Before she could say anything, he stepped through the glamour and disappeared.

With a sigh, she slid into the driver’s seat and closed her door. Elias glanced at her, his face pale in the overhead light.

“We good to go?”

She started the car. “Absolutely.”

No matter what it took, or what she had to promise, Jack Cross was going to help them.

Eight

The drive to wherever they were going seemed to take forever. Eli tried to focus on anything but his rapidly changing arm. Since it was dark now, there wasn’t much to look at outside the window. Not that he’d be able to see much, even if he could; Sophie was driving so fast any scenery would be a blur.

His left forearm rested on his thigh, and with most of his arm turning to stone, he knew his elbow was now at a permanent bend. He had a feeling whoever they were going to see wasn’t a friend. If that was the case, he wasn’t going to let Sophie trade anything for him. She was so noble, and cared so much about her patients, but he refused to let her give anything because of him.

Oh, he knew she’d argue. It wouldn’t make any difference. He would have the final say—even if he had to shout it over her objections.

“We’re almost there,” she said. Her tense voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he glanced over at her.

The dashboard lights highlighted her face, and Eli found himself tracing the fine line of her profile with his gaze. A woman with her taste, her class, wouldn’t want a handyman—never mind a gargoyle handyman. Not when her family boasted some of the most powerful witches in the world—

Headlights flashed behind them, and Eli turned to look out the back window, squinting against the light.

“I thought we were the only crazy drivers on the road,” he said, and smiled when his comment drew a shout of laughter from her. His smile faded as he saw the lights move closer, fast. Too fast.

“Sophie—”

“I see them. Hold on.”

He turned just as she punched the gas and sent them hurtling forward. He swore they caught air when they hit a dip.

The speed didn’t help. Whoever pursued them roared up behind them, then started to pass them on the left. Sophie glanced over at him.

“Hold on to something.”

Eli braced his right hand against the dashboard—right before she slammed on the brakes.

The black truck sailed past them, its brake lights flashing as the driver tried to stop. Sophie hit the gas and shot past the truck, taking a sharp left on to a road Eli hadn’t even seen before they roared down it.

Sophie glanced over at him. “Are you all right?”

“Define all right.”

She laughed, but he could see her hands gripping the steering wheel.

“Who do you know with a tricked-out black truck?”

He stared at her. “How do you know so much about cars? And where did you learn to drive like that?”

“Charles. Answer my question, Elias.”

“No one. I’m sorry, Sophie, for dragging you into this.”

“Stop apologizing for something that isn’t your fault. Hold on.”

She swerved again, right this time, on to a dirt road so narrow the tree branches scraped the sides of the car.

“How do you know the roads out here?”

“This is on the way to the family estate. I spent hours driving around here. This road will take us back to the main road. Hopefully, we haven’t overshot our destination. I’m not sure if it’s before or after the turnoff.”

The woman beside him was becoming more intriguing every minute.

They bumped along the poor excuse for a road, and Eli switched between protecting his immobile arm and gripping the dashboard. Finally, the main road appeared ahead of them.

She halted several yards back, and turned the headlights off. “Stay here.”

“Wait.” He caught her wrist. “Where are you going?”

“To see if our pursuit is still in sight.”

“I’m going with—”

“No, you’re not.” She looked at his left arm, then met his eyes. “You will stay here. Doctor’s orders.”

“That card won’t always work. Not if you’re in trouble.”

“The protective streak, Elias?”

“Because I care about you, Sophie.”

Even in the dim interior, he could see her blush.

“Oh. I—” She cleared her throat, clearly flustered. “Stay here.”

“Sophie.” Eli leaned in. She let out a gasp, just before he kissed her.

He’d only planned a short kiss, just to let her know he was serious. But when she slid her hand into his hair, he deepened it, both of them breathless when he finally eased back.

“I—Elias, you’re my patient. I can’t—”

“We won’t, until after I’m no longer your patient. But this is going to happen, Doc.” He brushed his lips against hers, felt her warm, uneven breath. “We’re going to happen. Got it?”

She nodded, and opened the door, not as steady as she was a few minutes ago. He smiled, glad that she was just as affected by that kiss as he had been.

He watched her head to the end of the road, his right hand on the door latch, ready to jump in, despite her warning for him to stay. Now that he knew she felt the same, he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight.

She speed-walked back to the car and slid in. “The road is clear. How is your arm?”

“Stiff.” He smiled at the shock on her face. “I’m holding my own. Just get us to your sorcerer, Doc.”

“Right.” She turned on the headlights and moved forward, looking both ways before she turned on to the road. “There it is, just ahead. Are you up for this?”

“Yeah.” He gathered in his tattered strength, and got ready for the next battle.

She pulled off the road. All he saw was a dirt parking lot, and beyond it, a path through the trees. But Sophie obviously saw more; she stepped out of the car and headed straight for the edge of the path.

“I can see you,” she said, crossing her arms. “So stop pretending you’re not there.”

Eli had no idea who she was talking to—until a man in a dark blue cloak stepped out of thin air. Whoever they came to see was behind another glamour, which meant they probably had something to hide as well. Josiah Mead was better at making enemies than Elias had heard.

The man was a few inches shorter than Sophie, but he got in her face, glaring at her. “You’re not welcome, Mead. So get back in your flashy car and get the—”

“Marc sent us,” she said.

His nostrils flared, but he nodded. “Stay here. Don’t move. Don’t touch anything.”

“Of course not.” Her voice sounded neutral. But Eli knew her well enough now to detect the amusement just under the surface. Whoever this idiot was, she knew him. Eli decided to hold back and let her deal with it.

He had just finished that thought when her antagonist returned, followed by another man in the same dark blue cloak.

This man was nearly as tall as Eli, and radiated power. He also looked familiar.

“Jack—”

“What are you doing here, Mead?” He sounded hostile, and Eli got out of the car and started toward them, ready to protect her.

Sophie raised her hand, shaking her head at Eli before she turned back. “My friend needs your help. I wouldn’t come for myself—I’m asking for him. I think my father might have something to do with it.”

Eli wanted to shake her for leaving out that detail. They’d have words about that, once he had the strength to shout at her.

Jack crossed his arms. “What makes you say that?”

“The troll that attacked me was wearing a coven ring.”

“It’s a sizable coven, with members from all over the South. I learned the hard way not to accuse Josiah Mead without ample evidence.” Jack looked past her, studying Eli like he was a specimen under the microscope. “Who poisoned you, gargoyle?”

Eli moved closer so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice. Just talking sapped almost more energy than he had left. “A sprite named Jessup Halvin, but he was working for someone else. Before you ask, I don’t know who, and I don’t know why they are so fixated on me.”

“You obviously pissed someone off. I doubt it was Josiah Mead,” he glanced at Sophie. “Despite what you may think, he has no reason to lay an expensive curse on a gargoyle he doesn’t know exists. That curse cost the person more than most earn in a year.”

Jack’s comment made everything crystal clear.

Eli closed his eyes, then looked at Jack as he spoke. “I know who did this to me.”

Sophie turned to him, grabbing his right hand. “Who, Elias?”

“Not who you think, Sophie. It wasn’t your father.” He kept his gaze on Jack as he answered her. “It was my brother.”

Nine

Sophie stared up at Eli. “Brother? You have a—why would he—”

“Yes, I have a brother. Lance hates me with every fiber of his being.”

Jack spoke before she could ask her next question. “He isn’t a gargoyle, is he?”

Eli shook his head. “Lance is my stepbrother. My mom married his dad when I was a teenager. Lance is a third-rate kitchen witch—not what any male with power aspires to—and he’s not very good at that. The coven he belongs to has some powerful members.” He raised his eyebrow at Sophie. “It sounds like he’s in the same coven as your father.”

She blushed, and he wanted to take her into his arms. “I—yes. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it before now.”

“Your dad being in the coven is probably coincidence. I doubt he’s the one who sold Lance the curse. And yeah, he has enough money to buy it. His mom left him a trust fund, enough for ten people to live on comfortably.”

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why would he do this?”

“Because,” Eli rubbed his forehead, not looking at her. “He’s wanted me dead since the day our parents met.” He muttered the rest to himself. “I never thought he’d actually do it.”

“It looks as if he finally bought his courage,” Jack said. He moved to Eli, and started unbuttoning his shirt. Eli opened his mouth to object, until Jack looked at him. “I need to see if it’s too late.”

Swallowing, Eli nodded, and let the sorcerer take off his shirt.

Sophie’s reaction told Eli what he needed to know. He was worse.

“You’re fortunate.” Jack spread his hand across the front of Eli shoulder. “The poison hasn’t reached your heart. Yet. Is it difficult to breathe? To exert yourself?”

“Yeah.”

Jack nodded, and walked around Eli, pressing his hand against muscle, skin, stone. Finally, he stopped in front of Eli and crossed his arms. “I can help you, but it will cost you. And the price may be higher than you want to pay.”

“Whatever it is,” Sophie said. “It will be paid.”

“Not by you, Doc.” Eli looked at Jack. “Whatever you need, you’ll get it from me. We clear on that?”

To his surprise, the sorcerer smiled. “Crystal, gargoyle. You will both come with me.” He glanced at Sophie. “I’m taking a chance allowing you inside my enclave, Mead. If you breathe a word of my location to Josiah, I will hunt you down.”

“You won’t dare—”

Sophie shut him down.

“I understand. I won’t betray you, or your people. You have my word, not as a Mead, but as Elias’ doctor.”

Jack studied her, and Eli could see the power curling around him. Eli braced himself, ready to drop the sorcerer if he had to. But Jack surprised him again.

“That will do, for now. Let’s get you—” he cut himself off, looking past them. “You were followed here. Get them inside. Now.”

He sprinted past them—and let out a cry as a huge figure slammed into him.

Sophie screamed as Eli ran forward and yanked the troll off him. He braced himself to shift—it was the only way he could match the troll’s strength. Instead of the normal energy roaring through him, cold-fire pain drove him to his knees.

“Eli—look out!”

Her warning came a second too late.

Eli felt the thin knife blade pierce him on his left side, just under his heart. He recognized the face that hovered over him. It was Scratch, Lance’s pet troll.

“Lance wants to see you die, stone man.”

Scratch yanked the blade free, and Eli clutched the ground. He heard Sophie screaming, and he wanted, needed to protect her, but all he could feel was the heat of the poison moving through him, straight to his heart.

Eli felt himself falling, left side first, and he knew if he hit the ground his arm would shatter. Strong hands caught him, lifting him off the ground. Rough hands.

“Elias!”

Scratch tucked him under one huge arm and sprinted toward the black truck that had almost run them down earlier. A spell splashed across Scratch’s back, and he grunted, but his hide was so thick he could deflect just about any kind of spell. That ability made trolls valuable bodyguards. Or partners in crime.

Blankets layered the bed of the truck, waiting for someone who needed the extra padding. Someone like Eli, with his body turning to stone.

“Only the blood of a mortal can save you now. Know any mortals, gargoyle?” Scratch set him on the blankets. “Don’t try to jump out, stone man. You might break.”

He chortled at his own joke and climbed into the cab, skidding out of the dirt lot as Jack threw another spell at the truck. It bounced off some protective barrier, and the truck fishtailed before the tires caught the road, heading away from Sophie, and toward the fate that had chased him for years.

~ * ~

Pain threatened to drown Eli, but he forced it back when the truck slowed, determined to face his stepbrother on his own two feet.

Scratch didn’t make that easy when he hauled Eli out of the truck, digging his fingers into Eli’s left side.

A red haze blurred his vision, and he stumbled as the troll dragged him toward the opulent mansion.

“Eli.” The gravelly voice he never expected to hear again brought his head up. He blinked his eyes, and finally brought the figure into focus. Lance smiled at him—an ugly smile, edged with the hate that glittered in his brown eyes. “Welcome to my humble home. It’s the last place you’ll see, before you die.”

Ten

Once Sophie recovered from the shock of seeing a troll cart off the only man she had ever truly cared about, she sprinted for her car.

“Sophie!” Jack appeared in front of her, catching her arms when she tried to backpedal. “You can’t go after him. If this stepbrother can command a troll, he will have other unsavory creatures under his control.”

“I won’t let him—” She fought the panic threatening to drop her. “I won’t leave him to die alone.”

“And I won’t allow you to go after him on your own. The fact that you would, without regard for your own safety, tells me that you are not like your father. Let me help you. Please.”

She nodded, and let Jack lead her across the lot. A sleek blue SUV appeared when he waved his hand.

“Jack.” She turned to him. “Thank you.”

“Thank me when he’s safe. When we are all safe. Do you have anything of his? Anything I can use to track him?”

Sophie started to shake her head, then remembered the kiss. Oh, heavens, that kiss.

“He—we—” The hated blush heated her cheeks. “Elias kissed me, just before we—”

“No need to elaborate.” Jack moved to her and cupped her chin. “May I?”

She nodded, understanding what he asked. He kissed her, his lips gentle, but thorough. When he freed her, a small ball of light appeared between them.

“Was it enough?”

Jack brushed his lips with the tips of his fingers, and closed his hand over the light. The color changed, reminding her of Elias; his vibrant, smiling personality, his strength, his determination...

“The gargoyle’s feelings for you run deep. Yes, it was enough.” Jack spread his hands, and the light grew, before it spun away and slid through the door of the SUV. “Come—we won’t have much time before the trail fades.”

“I need my doctor’s bag.”

Sophie ran to her car and grabbed it out of the back seat, then sprinted to the passenger side of the SUV and yanked the door open. A clear globe topped the gearshift, and the light filled it, pulsing like a heartbeat. Elias’ heartbeat.

Jack slid into the driver’s seat, and Sophie climbed in, buckling her seatbelt as he backed out of the lot. He tapped on the screen in the dashboard, and a ringtone trilled out of the speaker.

“Leeds.”

“It’s Cross. I’m activating the emergency protocol.”

Silence greeted his announcement. “Cross—”

“I’ll answer any questions later. I need you to raise all the barriers around the enclave, magical and real. Leave them up until you see me, in person. If I don’t return,” he glanced at Sophie. “If I don’t return, take everyone and move to our secondary location. Take everything with you.”

After a pause, Leeds responded. “Consider it done. Come back, Cross.”

“I plan to.”

He ended the call and sped up, heading into the darkness. The light kept pulsing—and Sophie knew that as long as it did, Elias was alive.

She had overheard the troll; Elias needed the blood of a mortal. If they got to him in time, he would get hers, no matter how much he argued.

Eleven

Eli forced himself to walk to the mansion, through the open double doors, and down to the basement. That was as far as he got before his knees buckled and he sank to the floor.

When he recovered enough to look around, he almost rolled his eyes at the stereotype that surrounded him—rough stone walls, a huge black iron cauldron over a wood fire.

The biggest stereotype of all stood in front of a white marble altar; Lance, wearing a black velvet robe and matching pointy hat, the velvet stitched with symbols of the horoscope in silver thread.

“Elias.” Lance sneered as he scanned Eli from head to toe. “Finally brought down to the status you deserve. Leave, Scratch.”

The troll grunted. “But you said—”

“Leave!” Lance’s temper flared around him—the only powerful thing about him.

Scratch glared at Lance, but he shuffled across the basement and clomped up the stairs. Eli braced himself for his stepbrother’s full attention.

“Do you know why you’re here, Elias?”

“So you can act like a pompous—”

Lance slapped him.

Normally, Eli would have laughed it off. But the blow destroyed his precarious balance, and he fell sideways, landing on his right shoulder. Lance crouched in front of him, patting his left shoulder.

“How is that arm feeling? A little stiff?” He snorted, laughing at his own bad joke. “Did you know it was me, when Jessup stuck you with the poison?”

“Not—at first.” Eli took in a raw breath. “What do you want, Lance?”

“What I’ve always wanted—you, on your knees, acknowledging my superior power.” He stood, and kicked at Eli’s leg. “Can hardly turn into the vicious gargoyle now, can you? No, this time, you’re turning to stone. For good. And I’m going to watch.”

Lance stretched out his hands and muttered a levitating spell under his breath. As usual, nothing happened, beyond a few stray leaves rustling on the rug. Cursing, Lance tried again. This time, not even the leaves rustled.

“Scratch!” The troll appeared, still pouting. “Put him on the altar. Time to pose him, while he’s still flexible.”

And Eli understood—why Lance chose this particular curse, this method for his revenge.

He was about to become a trophy.

Eli swallowed, and gathered his strength. He couldn’t shift, but he could make it harder for Lance to get what he wanted.

Just before Scratch reached him, Eli pushed off the floor and sprinted toward the doors leading outside. He didn’t get far, but he knew he wouldn’t.

Scratch lifted Eli off his feet and dumped him on the marble altar. The stone was shockingly cold. It burned through his solid left arm, and shot across his chest, following the line of the stone tendrils. Eli knew then that the altar had been spelled, and he wasn’t going anywhere. Already, he could feel his right hand stiffening as the spell enveloped it.

Whoever had cast the spell had personalized it; no one else would have been affected by touching the altar. The spell waited for him.

And with all his strength, all his power as a gargoyle, Eli was completely helpless against it.

“Now,” Lance said, strutting around the altar. “Now you get your comeuppance.”

Eli closed his eyes. Jessup had said the same thing when he’d attacked Eli.

“I left,” he whispered. “I left everything behind, stopped calling Mom. Why—are you doing this?”

“He cut me off. Good old Dad.” Lance pounded the top of the altar, inches from Eli’s frozen fingers. Red mottled his face when he stopped, panting. “Did you know he was in charge of my trust fund? I didn’t, but apparently, I was spending too much, too fast. Not making my way, as he so eloquently put it. You know who put that idea in his head?” Eli did, but he kept quiet. “Your mother told him that I needed tough love.” He let out a laugh. “That’s rich. Tough love, from a woman who never bothered to love me in the first place.”

“You wouldn’t—let her in.” Eli fought the grip of the spell, and with Lance’s temper spiking, he felt its hold easing. Lance must have been tied to it. If Eli could get him to lose his temper, he might be able to escape. “She tried—”

“She didn’t want me!” Lance threw his ridiculous hat across the room, and punched the altar again. “She thought I was inferior to her perfect son. But I’m going to get the last word this time. I’m going to show her tough love.” He leaned in, smiling. “Because it’s going to be tough to love her perfect son when he’s made of stone.”

Twelve

Sophie split her time between watching the pulsing light and watching the road for any sign of the truck.

The longer it took them to find Elias, the less time she had to save him.

Time became her enemy, and for the first time, she wished she had inherited some of her family’s power. At least she could help, instead of sitting here, unable to do more than fidget.

“There.” Jack’s voice had her searching through the dark. She spotted the lights filtering through a screen of trees. “Your gargoyle is in there.”

“Is he—” Sophie couldn’t finish the question. The light was pulsing, but it hadn’t changed, so she had a feeling it didn’t directly reflect Elias’ current condition.

“Alive? Yes. But I feel a coldness—one that will not kill him, but it will take him from you.”

“You mean turn him to stone.” She swallowed, and braced herself for what they might find beyond those trees. “I know my blood can stop the curse.”

Jack’s head snapped around, and he stopped the SUV. “You heard the troll.”

“Do you think he’s lying?”

“No. I’ve heard of more than one curse created to be broken by mortal blood. So many supernaturals stay among their own kind that knowing a mortal willing to give up what it would take is not an easy task.”

Sophie kept staring at the trees, and didn’t comment. She had a feeling that it would be dangerous for the volunteering mortal. Why make it easy? It was a curse after all, meant to destroy the supernatural it was aimed at.

Jack parked the SUV and she joined him in front of it, her hand sweating on the handle of her bag. “Whatever happens,” he said. “If I tell you to stop, you stop. If I tell you to move, you move. If I tell you to run, you—”

“Run. I get it. I’m the minority here.”

“Exactly.”

He led the way through the trees, moving like he’d walked here every day. At the edge of the trees, he stopped, leaning in to whisper to her. “Elias is below ground, most likely in a basement. Give me a moment to check for any outside access.”

He raised his hands, and froze, color draining from his face.

“Jack?” Sophie knew better than to touch him when he was in the middle of casting, but he looked like he was going to pass out. She readied herself to grab him if he did. “What is it?”

He turned to her, his hazel eyes dark. “I am so sorry, Sophie.” He lowered his arms, his shoulders slumping. “I can’t step inside the mansion. There is a binding spell on every entrance, from doors to windows. If I try—”

He didn’t have to finish.

She nodded, taking his hand. “Thank you, for getting me this far.”

“What are you—”

She slipped past him before he could stop her and headed across the expansive lawn.

~ * ~

Eli had never felt so helpless in his life.

He knelt on the marble altar, wearing nothing but his boxers. Lance had cut the rest of his clothes off him, and enjoyed every humiliating minute.

Now he watched Lance move his quickly stiffening right arm into a ridiculous pose. A pose that would be his final and forever statement to the world.

Cursing under his breath, Lance tried to push down Eli’s almost frozen fingers. “I didn’t wait too long,” he muttered. “I know I didn’t wait too long. Why aren’t you moving?”

Eli would’ve made a smart remark—if he could still open his mouth.

That discovery sent panic roaring through him. He knew the next step would be losing his ability to breathe.

Finally, Lance wrangled his fingers into the desired pose. The universal sign for everything’s all right. When Lance leaned in to lift one of Eli’s eyebrows, Eli seriously wished he could sink his stone teeth into his stepbrother’s hand. Instead, all he could do was snarl.

It had the desired effect; Lance jerked back, almost falling off the altar.

“You son of a—” He cocked back his arm and slammed his fist into Eli’s left side. “How does that feel, hero?”

Agony spiked Eli’s torso, but all he could do was take in a shallow breath and ride it out.

Lance must be in heaven, able to say or do whatever he wants to without retaliation.

Eli knew he was right when Lance punched him again, and again. And again.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Sophie’s voice made his heart leap—with both hope and fear.

What is she doing here?

He watched her stalk across the basement, fury glittering in those beautiful, clear blue eyes. Lance almost fell off the altar in his rush to reach the floor.

“Who are you? How did you get—”

“Remove the curse. Now.”

Eli would have closed his eyes, if he could have. Demands were absolutely the wrong approach with Lance.

And he proved Eli right with his next sentence.

“No one tells me what to do in my mansion! Scratch! Get in here!”

Eli watched, helpless, as the troll lumbered in, holding a huge wooden club.

Sophie spun, facing the troll. Every muscle Eli could still clench tightened, as if he could actually leap to her rescue. He was as useless as the statue he was becoming.

To his shock, Sophie smiled at the troll. “Hello, handsome. Do you remember me?”

Scratch shocked him more by dropping the club. “You called me handsome. You hear that, Lance? The pretty doctor called me handsome.”

“Take her down, you stupid lump!”

Scratch glared at Lance, his lip curling back, revealing square, yellowed teeth. “Do it yourself. I quit.”

He pulled a ring off and threw it on the floor, then stomped across the basement and up the stairs, shaking the walls when he slammed the door at the top.

Lance stared after him, his mouth open, his eyes wide. It was the perfect time to take him down.

Sophie obviously thought the same thing. She dropped the bag she carried and ran at him, grabbing his arms as she pinned him against the side of the altar.

“Remove the curse.”

“I’d rather die first.”

Sophie smiled, and it chilled Eli’s blood. “That can be arranged, witch.”

Lance stiffened, and Eli knew she realized she had pushed too far.

“How dare you—in my house—”

He punched her in the stomach. She doubled, choking, and stumbled backward. Lance followed her, his fist raised for another blow.

Eli couldn’t talk—but he could still make sounds.

He snarled, loud enough that Sophie lifted her head just before Lance punched at her again.

She managed to duck, and shocked Eli again by tackling Lance.

They both hit the floor, hard. Sophie rolled off him, obviously still hurting. She used the edge of the altar to pull herself up, and glanced over at Eli. The anguish on her face told him he was as bad off as he thought.

“Hold on, Elias. Just hold on.”

She turned to Lance, and grabbed the front of his robe before he could finish standing. With surprising strength, she slammed him against the wall, and wrapped her hand around his throat.

“I’m a doctor, Lance. Do you know what that means? I’ll tell you; it means I know the exact pressure points to knock you out cold. I also know the pressure points that will kill you.”

“What do you want?” The high-pitched, whiny voice Eli remembered from his teenage years bounced off the walls. “He’s only getting what he deserves!”

“If we all got what we deserved, you’d be living in a badly furnished one room apartment in the slums of Savannah.”

Eli chuckled, the sound barely reaching past his own ears. Sophie had obviously noticed the opulent furnishings on her way to the basement.

She slid her thumb down the side of Lance’s neck.

“The curse, Lance. Or I start cutting off the blood supply to your brain.”

His eyes widened, and he started choking even before she applied any pressure. “You wouldn’t—”

Sophie proved him wrong and pushed her thumb into the side of his neck.

Lance started flailing, but she held him in place, so much stronger than Eli thought.

“I’ll only ask one more time, and it’s lights out. Remove the curse, Lance.”

He glared at her, but he finally nodded. She let go of him and stepped back, but Eli noticed she was still in arm’s reach.

Rubbing at his throat, Lance stumbled forward, heading for a small table near the outside door. He opened the chest that sat on the table, and held up a crystal. Eli wanted to recoil from the ugly, dark smoke writhing inside.

“You have to shatter it,” he said.

“No.” Sophie crossed her arms. “You have to shatter it.”

Lance’s last trick didn’t work. Eli let out another soundless chuckle, and braced himself for the inevitable pain.

“He’ll still need the blood of a mortal to reverse the spell.”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Sophie said. “You won’t be here.”

The menace in her voice had Lance moving faster than Eli had ever seen him move.

He snatched up a heavy paperweight, dropped the crystal on the floor, and smashed the flat end of the paperweight on it.

The murky crystal shattered, shards flying across the floor. Wisps of smoke curled around the paperweight, and Eli swore he heard tiny screams as the smoke curled in on itself and disappeared.

Lance stared up at Sophie, tears filling his eyes. “Satisfied?”

“I will be, when I no longer see your face.”

He took the hint and bolted out the door.

The curse freed Eli, and to his horror, he started to topple.

“Elias—no—” Sophie sprinted toward the altar, but he knew she would be too late.

He was about to break into as many pieces as the crystal.

~ * ~

Sophie managed to wedge herself between Elias and the top of the marble altar.

His weight startled her, and now that she had the chance to really look at him, she was horrified to see that most of his body had turned to stone.

“Elias.” Her voice opened his eyes—something she was afraid he might not be able to do. “How are you feeling?”

He cleared his throat, and looked surprised that he could. “A little—stiff,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

She almost smiled at his joke. “The curse is gone, but we still have to reverse the effects of the spell. You’re going to need my blood.”

“No.”

“It wasn’t an offer, Elias. As your doctor, it’s an order. You’re taking my blood.”

With him pinning her to the altar, she could feel what muscles he still had control over trying to push away. Instead of stopping him, she framed his face with her hands.

“I want to do this. I care about you, Elias. I want the chance—I want the chance to be with you. But that’s not going to happen if you don’t let me do this.”

He stared down at her, and she could read every emotion that flared in his blue eyes. Fear, dread, and the same need that had pulled her out of her solitary world.

“No,” he whispered. “Not—worth—” A harsh gasp cut him off, and he started convulsing against her.

“Elias—” Sophie eased him to his back, pressing her fingers to part of his throat that was still flesh and checked for a pulse. It was weak, too weak. Since most of his chest had already changed, she knew he must be having trouble taking in more than a shallow breath. It was time to put aside her feelings, and let the professional takeover.

She slid off the altar and ran across the basement for her doctor’s bag and carried it back to Elias. Inside, she found what she needed; an IV needle, a syringe, tubing, tape, and antiseptic wipes.

They were compatible blood types, so that wouldn’t be an issue. Getting him the blood fast enough would be, and as she stared at the tools of her profession, Sophie was afraid that the standard method wouldn’t be fast enough.

Memory halted her, of one of her training sessions with her mother. She had learned a risky method, of directly transferring blood from the donor to the recipient, and she knew she had the slight talent needed to keep them both from bleeding out.

The risk was her passing out before she could stop the transfusion.

Finding a vein on Elias that she could  use proved to be challenging. She found a tiny spot on the inside of his right arm, close enough to his basilica vein. That would have to do.

She ran the simple spell through her mind as she hoisted herself to the altar and moved to his right side. It had been years, and the thought that she no longer had the power to—

“Stop,” she whispered. “You can do this. You have to.”

Taking a shaky breath, she pulled the small case out of her bag and took out one of the disposable scalpels she carried with her. She planned to cut her wrist first, then open up Elias’ arm. That way, she’d have a supply ready to push, straight into his body. The spell would keep her from bleeding, until she spoke the last line.

After wiping down her wrist and his arm with antiseptic, she unsheathed the scalpel, whispered the first part of the spell, and slid the sharp blade into her wrist. Pain shot up her arm; she ignored it, and leaned over Elias, finding his vein.

She waited until the pressure of the blood building behind the invisible barrier on her wrist became almost intolerable, then cut into Elias’s arm. She laid her wrist over the wound, and muttered the end of the spell.

“It’s working—oh, thank heaven, it’s working.” She could feel the spell, almost see it wrap around their joined limbs, holding them in place, transferring the blood he needed.

Then she whispered the second spell—an accelerator, to help push the blood faster, get it to his heart faster, so his heart could pump it out to the rest of his body. That spell worked almost too well—it felt like a mini suction tube in her wrist.

She sat for as long as she could, then braced herself on her left elbow. Not long after, she had to lie down, lightheaded from the fast blood loss.

But any side effect was worth it as she watched the stone begin to retreat, changing from grey to pale but healthy flesh. Even with the accelerator, the change was happening too slowly. Sophie was afraid it would take more blood than she could give him.

She had a feeling part of it was the fact that she wasn’t completely mortal, which meant the blood took longer to reverse the effects of the spell.

She started to see spots, the room spinning around her. Resting her head on her arm, she forced herself to take slow, deep breaths, and repeated the accelerator spell. She felt her wrist open wider, the blood moving faster.

“Keep going,” she whispered. “Heal him.”

The transformation sped up, and the fear squeezing her heart eased. With a sigh, she closed her eyes, and focused on the spell. She could give a little more, just a little more.

Thirteen

Eli opened his eyes, and looked at the truly hideous ceiling. It only took a few seconds to remember where he was and what happened. He turned his head, surprised that he could—and found Sophie next to him, unconscious.

“No, Sophie.” He felt the small spell she must have used. If he broke it by moving her wrist—

He’d have to take the chance. She was still losing blood, and she’d already given him more than enough.

With a curse, he pushed himself up, his muscles shaking at the effort, and dug a piece of gauze out of the doctor’s bag sitting next to him.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please don’t let this backfire on her.”

He pulled her wrist away and slapped the gauze on her wound.

With a gasp, she came to, reaching for her wrist.

“No, Sophie. It’s done.”

“You need—ˮ She swallowed, and closed her eyes. “You need more,” she whispered.

“I’m good, and you’re not. What did you do?”

“The right thing.” She took a deep, shaky breath, and the weight squeezing his heart eased when she finally looked at him. “I had to, Elias. You were dying.”

He shook his head. “I told you I didn’t want you to—ˮ

“I am the doctor in the room. It was my choice to make. Your arm,” she whispered. “You need to bandage—”

“Got it.” Eli pressed a second piece of gauze to the inside of his arm. The small cut she’d made was already healing, which told him she had given him more than enough.

He cradled her cheek. “Did you come here alone?”

She started to shake her head, and gasped, pressing one hand to her forehead. “Dizzy,” she whispered.

“Really? I didn’t know giving up most of your blood would do that.”

She blinked at him. “Was that—sarcasm?”

“You got it, sweetheart.” He leaned in, ignoring the shock on her face. “I said no.”

“As your doctor, I win.” She closed her eyes, and he panicked when she turned white as the marble under her.

“Sophie. Look at me.”

“All right,” she whispered. “I need—food. We both do. Oh—Jack is outside.” She opened her eyes again, and Eli started to breathe. “He couldn’t come in. Lance put some kind of binding spell on every opening.”

That sentence seemed to do her in. She closed her eyes and let out a groan, rubbing her forehead.

“That’s it.” Eli climbed off the altar, ignoring the fact that he only wore his boxers, and lifted her into his arms. She stared up at him and opened her mouth. “No argument, Doc. I’m feeling better than I have since this fiasco started, and if help is outside, that’s where you’re going.”

He wouldn’t tell her that her lack of color scared the breath out of him, or that he was furious with her for giving up so much of her blood she couldn’t walk. That conversation would happen later, when they could both shout at the top of their voices.

Eli looked forward to it.

He used his elbow to open the gold-plated door latch, and pushed the French door open. Jack stood in the middle of the lawn, outlined by his power. Eli forgot it was the middle of the night; it felt like he’d been trapped inside his own body for days instead of hours.

Jack strode forward, reaching for Sophie. “How is she?”

“Blood loss,” she whispered. “I will be—”

“Quiet,” Eli said. “You don’t get to talk anymore.”

She opened her mouth, took one look at him, and closed it again.

Jack raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t comment. “We can take her back to the enclave. I have spells that will speed up the healing and renewal process.”

“Let’s go.”

“Gargoyle.”

“Yeah?”

Jack waved at his bare legs. “You aren’t dressed.”

“Blame my stepbrother for that. He was about to turn me into a lawn ornament.”

To Eli’s surprise, the sorcerer burst out laughing. “Sorry,” he said, once he recovered. “That is the most amusing thing I’ve heard in quite some time.” He sobered. “What do you want done with this stepbrother?”

“Oh, I already have a plan in mind. You won’t need to do anything.”

Eli was going to send a nice, detailed email to the head of Lance’s coven, and let them deal with him. He would have a lot to answer for. Whatever punishment they laid on him would be enough for Eli. He never wanted to see Lance again.

“Elias.” Sophie’s voice yanked him out of his thoughts. “I think I—”

Her head lolled against his shoulder, and he knew she had just passed out.

Jack took her from Eli. “I can move faster, gargoyle. Are you able to shift?”

Eli knew what he was asking. “Yeah,” he said. “I remember the way to your hidey hole. Get her there, take care of her. Just don’t leave me out in the cold when I show up.”

“You have my word.”

Eli watched the sorcerer run across the lawn, Sophie tucked against his chest. Once they disappeared through the trees, he took a deep breath, and flexed his stiff muscles. This first shift wasn’t going to be pretty, and he had a feeling it was going to hurt. A lot.

He let the energy flow through him, envisioned the cat that was part of his soul.

Pain ripped through him, but he felt his body change. It took much longer than usual, and he felt like he’d been beaten with chains at the end of it, but he leapt into the air and spread his wings, flying for the first time since his run-in with Jessup.

He soared over the trees, and found the road, following it back to the dirt lot. By the time he landed, the same sorcerer who had met them before stood at the edge of the path, watching him. Eli didn’t like an audience when he shifted, but he ignored the sorcerer and changed to his human form, every muscle aching. But, oh, had it felt good to fly again, to be what he was. He spent so little time in his true form, he had forgotten how liberating it felt, how much he missed the freedom of simply flying.

He would have to make time from now on, time to be what he really was.

The sorcerer waved both hands at the path, and the glamour hiding their enclave disappeared.

“Come. Your doctor is inside.”

“Is she okay?” Eli followed him into an impressive building, past the intricately carved pillars that supported the high, peaked roof.

“She will be.” The sorcerer glanced at Eli’s bare chest. “I will find something for you to wear. The women here might appreciate all that skin, but I don’t.”

“Got it.” Eli smiled as soon as the man turned away.

He knew his physique intimidated most men. He may not have been as beefy as most of the gargoyles in town, but he stood out in a room filled with other supernaturals.

They stopped at a door halfway down the long hallway. “She’s resting, so do your best not to wake her. She also has spells laid on her, so don’t touch the crystals, or anything else.”

“Am I allowed to breathe?”

“Hilarious, gargoyle.” He opened the door, and let Eli walk past him. “Clothes,” he muttered. “Large clothes.” He closed the door before Eli could make another smart remark.

Whatever Eli planned to say faded the second he saw Sophie.

She looked as pale as the sheet covering her. Both hands, resting on either side of her, were dotted with various crystals, each one glowing as it released its spell. Eli moved to her right side, careful not to touch the string of amethyst that had been laid across her forehead as he cradled her cheek.

“Thank you,” he whispered, “for risking everything to save me. You shouldn’t have, Doc. If something happened to you...”

He lowered his head, his throat tight. This woman had come to mean more to him than he ever expected. Her courage, her humor, her willingness to give herself the people she cared about—she was everything he wanted.

He didn’t deserve her.

Wiping his eyes, he leaned over her, and gently kissed her.

“Goodbye, Doc. Take care of yourself.”

After one final glance, Eli walked out of the room.

It was time to go back to real life, one that didn’t include a woman like Dr. Sophie Mead.

Fourteen

Awareness came back slowly, and with it, one thought.

Elias.

Sophie opened her eyes, not surprised to find Jack sitting next to her bed. Her bed, in her room.

Charles paced behind him, and rushed to her side as soon as he saw that she was awake.

“Sophie.” He gently cradled her cheek, as if she were fragile. She did feel fragile, breakable. But she’d never tell him that. “How are you?”

“Tired. How long—” She coughed, her throat raw, and gratefully sipped the glass of water Jack handed to Charles. “Thanks. How long have I been out?”

“Three days,” Jack said. He moved to the foot of her bed, his hazel eyes narrowed as he studied her. “The skills I used were effective, but they tend to knock the recipient out for a good length of time.”

“You could have warned me.”

“Yes, I could have—if you had been conscious.”

“Point taken.” She tried to sit, and the room spun.

“Slowly, love. You are still recovering.” Charles wrapped one arm around her shoulders and helped her, plumping the pillows behind her.

“Elias?” she whispered.

Charles looked at Jack, who moved to her right side.

“He checked on you, just after I laid the spells. Then he left.”

Sophie thought she knew why. She had been out of it, but she remembered hearing his voice, feeling his kiss. It had felt like goodbye.

“I want to see him.”

Charles started to shake his head, then he sighed. “I am not going to dissuade you, am I?”

“No.”

“I will bring the car around. Your assistant,” he said to Jack. “She can help Miss Sophie dress?”

“I’ll see to it.” He waited until Charles left, then studied her. “Are you going to see the gargoyle as a doctor, or...”

“Or,” she said.

He nodded. “He is a good man, even if he doesn’t think so.”

“By the time I’m finished with him, he won’t ever think that again.”

~ * ~

The female sorcerer Jack had brought with him help Sophie get dressed. Once she was ready, he dismissed the woman, sending her back to the enclave. Then he helped Sophie out to his SUV, settling her in the passenger seat, climbing in behind her.

The drive to Elias’ house seemed to take forever. One look at the dashboard clock told her why. It was the middle of lunch, and with the good weather, everyone was out enjoying the sun. Her stomach rumbled when they drove past Delaney’s Delectables, and Sophie promised herself she would buy at least two pounds of dark chocolate truffles, as soon as she straightened out one stubborn gargoyle.

When they pulled up in front of Elias’ house, Sophie saw Lidia and Tami sitting on the front porch—with Elias. Lidia rushed down the stairs and opened the passenger door.

“Sophie! You look so much better. I mean—better than—never mind. Who are your friends?”

“Charles, Jack, this is Lidia Reston, Elias’ neighbor. She is—”

“The witch who has lost her power,” Jack said. When Lidia stared at him, pain in her eyes, Sophie wanted to smack him. “I can help you, child, if you like.”

“You can?” Lidia looked so hopeful, it nearly broke Sophie’s heart.

“Sophie can give me your contact information, and we will see what can be done.” She blinked, then pulled Tami over. “I’m so rude. This is my best friend, Tami Bennett. She’s visiting from California, helping me with all my wedding arrangements.”

Jack looked like he’d been hit over the head. He muttered a congratulation as he stared at Tami—who looked just as shell shocked.

Tami was the first to move. “I have to go.”

She sprinted across the street and into Lidia’s spooky looking house. Sophie knew it was a glamour, laid on by the former xenophobic owner, but it always left her unsettled.

“I’m—” Lidia stared after her friend, then turned to Jack. “Sorry. She’s still adjusting. Humidity and all that. I’ll talk to you soon.” She gripped Sophie’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”

Sophie didn’t answer her; she was too busy staring at Elias.

He stood on the porch, strong, furious, and so beautiful it made her heart pound.

“What are you doing out of bed?”

“It’s nice to see you, as well.” She could have sworn she saw a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Elias stomped down the stairs, not stopping until he stood in front of her. “Go home. Go to bed.”

“No,” she said.

This time he did smile. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m not the only one.”

He studied her, his blue eyes so warm, so filled with need, that she couldn’t hold back any longer. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his shoulder. His warm, solid shoulder.

With a sigh, Elias gathered her in. “You’re supposed to hate me,” he whispered. “I almost—” He cut himself off.

“Almost what? I didn’t come after you because I’m your doctor, Elias. I came after you because I love you.” She stilled as she realized she spoke the words out loud. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean to tell me that you loved me?” Elias sounded—amused. Sophie gathered her courage and lifted her head, meeting his eyes. “Or you didn’t mean to say it in front of so many witnesses?”

“I didn’t mean to say it out loud,” she whispered. “I hardly know you.”

“I think, after what we’ve been through, we can check off the first date.”

Laughter bubbled out of her, and she forgot that they had an audience when she stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

She let out a startled gasp when he picked her up and carried her up the stairs. Over his broad shoulder, she got a glimpse of Jack, standing on the lawn, with a look of “What do I do now?” on his face. She smiled; he would figure it out.

Elias walked into the house, closed the door, then gently lowered her to the floor, his hands circling her waist.

“I’d like less of an audience,” he said. “When I thoroughly kiss the woman I love for the first time.”

Sophie’s heart skipped, and she stared up at him. “You love me?”

“Duh.”

She smiled—and was still smiling when he kissed her.

Fifteen

Nothing prepared Sophie for the reception she received when she walked into Lidia’s house later that week.

What looked like every female resident of Nocturne Falls was crammed into Lidia’s living room.

“Surprise!”

Lidia rushed forward, grabbing Sophie’s hand before she could escape. “Oh, no, you don’t. Get in here—this party’s for you.”

“Why?” Sophie let Lidia drag her forward, trying not to flinch at the power swirling around her. Ever since her run in with Lance, she had been more sensitive to it. One of the reasons she had avoided any company other than Elias’ for the last week. “It’s not my birthday.”

“It’s a belated ‘Welcome to Nocturne Falls’ party.” Bridget Merrow stepped out of the crowd, patting Sophie’s shoulder. “We’re all glad to have a doctor in town who understands our special needs. And one who has made our resident grumpy gargoyle stupid happy.” She grinned, and grabbed a huge steak slider off a tray.

Lidia pulled her into the crowd of women. “I wanted to introduce you to everyone, formally. You’re important to us, and we wanted to let you know how much we appreciate you—and how thankful we are that you were around to help Eli.”

“I didn’t know...”

“That he was so popular?”

Sophie shook her head. “So well loved.”

Bridget swallowed a huge bite of steak. “He’s done so much work at Howler’s, I should deed him half the place.”

Delaney nodded in agreement. “He is a godsend when I need a last-minute fix. Or when I had to change the design of the shop to accommodate all the customers.”

One by one, the women offered up stories about how much Elias had done for them, how they depended on his skill, his quick hand, and his humor.

Finally, her head spinning, she snuck out to the back, and let the cool night air revive her. Lidia found her, handing her a tall glass of lemonade.

“Thank you,” Sophie said. The sweet and tart drink helped soothe her throat. “How is it that Elias stayed single all this time?”

“He was waiting for you, Sophie.”

She stared at Lidia. “He didn’t know—”

“Not you you. Just who you are—someone who accepted him, saw past the humor he likes to hide behind, and let him be vulnerable. He doesn’t think I know, but he’s madly in love with my cat, Max. He’s always been part of Nocturne Falls, but not part of it, because his job keeps him in human form.”

Sophie was starting to understand. She had seen a side of Elias that no one would have seen, if not for the curse. Most men would have run away from a woman who saw their vulnerability. But Elias had run straight to her, trusted her with it. Trusted her with him.

Was it any wonder her crush turned into love?

“Hello—earth to Sophie.”

She blinked, and smiled at Lidia’s knowing look. “Sorry. I was just—”

“Daydreaming. I get it. I do that with Harry.” She let out a happy sigh. “We’re two lucky women.”

“Yes, we are.” Sophie looked up at the stars, and wondered if Elias was in his backyard, looking at the same stars. Maybe, if the party didn’t end too late, she could stop by on her way home—

“—about Tami.”

“What? I’m sorry.”

Lidia grinned. “It’s okay. I just said I’m a little worried about Tami.”

“Where is she tonight?”

“Oh—you don’t know. Tami’s human, so she wasn’t invited.”

She remembered Elias telling her about Tami, during his first appointment. “Elias said something about that. She knows you’re a witch?”

“Yeah.” Lidia waved her hand. “Long story. Short version—we’re from California, so knowing that someone’s a witch isn’t a big deal. But Delaney wants to keep her out of the loop here. Anyway, she’s been acting strange ever since she met your sorcerer.”

“Jack?” Sophie did recall, through the haze of seeing Elias, that there had been an instant chemistry between the two of them. “Has he been here to see you?”

“Yeah.” Lidia shrugged, looking down at her hands. “He thinks he might be able to speed up the process. The ring Harry had made for me has helped, a lot, but it’s like putting a puzzle together without all the pieces.”

Sophie understood, more than Lidia knew. “My parents are witches, so I get it.”

“Do you ever feel like you missed out, not inheriting the family talent?”

No one had ever asked Sophie point blank. She liked Lidia’s honesty, and her bouncy personality. It was refreshing.

“No,” she said. “My parents made me feel I was less for not being a witch, but I’m proud of my skills, proud of who I’ve become.” Saying it out loud was so freeing, she threw her head back and laughed.

“What?”

“I never said it before, outside my head.”

With a smile, Lidia took her hand, and pulled her toward the door. “You should. Because you look happy right now.”

“I am. For the first time, I am truly happy.” She hugged Lidia, and practically danced her way to the door. “Let’s go join my party.”

~ * ~

Exhausted, but more content than she had ever felt after a social event, Sophie walked across the street and up the stairs to the porch of Elias’ house. She had always hated Victorians, because they reminded her of a childhood where she had been shunned, and pushed aside.

But Elias’ house felt the opposite of those cold, over polished rooms. His house welcomed, with warmth, and well-worn, comfortable, faded furnishings. Sophie loved everything about it.

He opened the door before she could knock.

“I was hoping you’d stop by,” he said, and pulled her in for a long, breath robbing kiss. “I missed you today.”

“I missed you, as well,” she whispered. It felt strange and wonderful to be missed.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and walked inside, closing the door behind them. “Did you have a good time?”

“The best. I didn’t know the women of Nocturne Falls could party so hard.”

He smiled. “They do like to let their hair down. I’m glad you felt comfortable with them.”

Sophie frowned up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I guess—I’ve been afraid that you might want to leave, after what happened.”

“Elias.” She pulled him over to the big, worn leather sofa and sat with him. “This is my home. I chose it, like I chose you. I’m not going to let go of either of you.”

He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face into her hair.

“I love you, Doc.”

“I love you, my gorgeous gargoyle.”

Laughter burst out of him, just as she hoped it would.

He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his blue eyes warm. She swallowed at the gleam in them, her heart pounding.

“Stay tonight, sweetheart. Stay forever.”

Sophie leaned up and brushed her lips against his. “I thought you’d never ask.”

She let out a startled laugh when he swept her off the sofa and practically ran up the stairs.

When he lowered her to the floor of his bedroom, and gently kissed her, she felt it, all the way to her soul.

She was finally home.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Thank you for sharing Sophie and Eli’s story! My next Nocturne Falls Universe adventure will be coming in the fall.

Want to be the first to know when the next Nocturne Falls Universe story is available? Sign up for my list here: http://catedeanwrites.com/join-my-list/.

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If you missed Lidia and Harrison’s story, A Witch Rescues Her Werewolf, you can find it

at all retailers. Turn the page for a sneak peek.

Excerpt from The Witch Rescues Her Werewolf

Lidia started walking down the street, and smiled at the poster she saw every few feet. It hung in store windows, and was also plastered to the side of the bus that trundled by.

Let Dr. McGuire ease all your pains!

A photo of a smiling man in a doctor’s coat accompanied the claim. He looked kind, and trustworthy. She made a mental note of him, and kept walking, drawn in again by the costumed tourists, and the groups of shouting, laughing kids. Just like the other streets, this one had fun, whimsically named stores.

The Hair Scare made her smile, and she laughed out loud when she saw kids walking out of I Scream, with huge ice cream cones tilting sideways in their hands. On another street, she saw Mummy’s Diner, chuckling as she read the tagline out loud.

“Our food is to die for. That’s definitely going on the must try list.” She was still smiling when she turned around, and another sign caught her eye.

The Grey Wolf was probably the most subdued and normal store name she’d seen so far, but it drew her across the street, until she stood in front of the huge picture window.

She studied the display. Everything from cute stuffed wolf cubs to huge cauldrons filled the space, all of them sitting on a swath of rich, midnight blue velvet.

When she spotted the baskets of crystals, she knew she had to go inside and check them out.

A family crowded the front of the door, the two small boys arguing with their parents. Lidia stood back and enjoyed the scene, silently siding with the boys. Who wouldn’t want a life-size stuffed wolf for their bed?

She saw movement on the other side of the glass front door, and wondered if the owner was going to come out and help settle the argument. Her heart skipped at the thought of meeting another supernatural; what would it be this time? A shifter? A witch? She held her breath as the door opened. It looked like she was about to find out.

~ * ~

Harrison had spent the day waiting on the constant influx of customers, happy for the distraction. Now, with sunset coming, the crowds had thinned, and he had too much time to himself. Too much time to think.

Loud voices just outside pulled him out of his dark thoughts. He headed to the door, a smile tugging at his mouth when he heard the young male voices begging for their own stuffed wolf. It wasn’t the first time his display had prompted just such a tearful plea.

Determined to remain neutral, even though he already sided with the two boys, he opened the door—and promptly tripped over the threshold he had crossed thousands of times.

He fell, landing right side first on the sidewalk. His shoulder screamed at the impact, but he was too distracted by the pair of small red ballet flats in front of him to pay attention.

“Are you okay?”

The soft, husky voice warned him a second before its owner crouched down. The voice also sounded familiar—which meant he had tumbled in front of a local. Again.

Harrison was mortified, and wanted to be anywhere but here at this moment. He started to push himself up, but his right arm finally caught his attention by buckling under him.

“Whoa—I’ve got you.” Her slim hands gripped his left arm, surprisingly strong as she helped him sit, and leaned him against the brick storefront. “Can I get someone for you?”

“I’m fine,” he whispered. He knew he didn’t sound fine—far from it—but it might make her go away. He was embarrassed enough without a strange woman witnessing his latest trip and fall.

“At least let me help you inside.” He nodded, and gathered the courage to look up at her.

Everything in him stilled when he met her clear grey eyes.

She was the witch from his dream.

~ * ~

About the Author

Cate Dean has been writing since she could hold a pen in her hand and put more than two words together on paper.

She grew up losing herself in the wilds of fantasy worlds, and has had some of her own adventures while tromping through the UK, and a few other parts of the world.

A lover of all things supernatural, she infuses that love into her stories, giving them a unique edge.

When she's not writing, she loves cooking, scaring herself silly in the local cemeteries, and reading pretty much anything she can get her hands on.

There— I got the official biography out of the way. I love to write, and yes, I have been doing it most of my life. I've made up stories in my head for as long as I can remember, and I am thrilled to be able to write them down and share them with you.

I love writing different types of stories, and jump from fantasy, to paranormal, and over to romance. So many genres, so little time...

If you want to be the first to know when the next book is released, or be in on some fun, exclusive contests and giveaways, join my list here: http://catedeanwrites.com/join-my-list.

You can learn more about me and my books at my website: http://catedeanwrites.com

I look forward to meeting you. :)