Chapter 1

One

It had taken me months of scrying, two spells, and a whole lot of luck to figure out who the local wolf pack was in time.

Now, I just had to convince them to do two things.

Firstly, I had to convince them they could trust me with their secret.

It doesn't matter that I already know what they are. Werewolves have always been notoriously tight lipped about their full moon habits.

Secondly… assuming I can get them to admit what they are… I have to convince them they can trust me to be part of my spell.

Witches and werewolves have never had the best of relationships, but maybe this group—there are four of them—haven't had the same experience with witches as the other two packs I'd met.

Those wolves' issues had been with my past coven.

There are two dozen reasons I'm a solitary witch now.

Tapping my thumb on my steering wheel in a rhythm that doesn't match the song, I look up at the house.

It's sturdy. I imagine it was built in the era where people worried about fallout shelters and hiding in basements.

The sloping lawn is deep green after the first weeks of fall rain. Bisected by a set of cracked and uneven stairs, the grass is held up by a hip height retaining wall dark with damp.

Around the corner, on the southbound street, there's a deceptively rickety pair of doors, signaling the slope hides a basement.

I have to wonder if this pack has cages and lock themselves away when the moon is full… save for those random nights one or two slipped away to wreak havoc on the outlying farms' herds of cattle and sheep.

With a deep breath, I grab my bag from the passenger seat, and open first my car door, then my umbrella against the faint drizzle that has started.

The possibility of both success and failure has my anxiety hitched to eleven.

I'm the one who pushes the button to lock the car, and it still makes me jump.

The stairs are my first obstacle. I take them one at a time and begin to wish that I had chosen a pair of work boots over the ones I prefer. But for an encounter like this one, comfort was more prized than utility, and I always feel more comfortable when I have the opportunity to stun a man with my clothes. It helps knock them off kilter when they realize there's a brain somewhere above the boobs they've locked eyes on.

And today—despite everything else—I feel perfectly put together.

That's why I'm able to straighten my shoulders when I ring the bell, and have to dim the smug smile. I don't need to ruin my chances before I've actually begun.

The bell echoes through the house, and I listen as someone yells for another to turn the TV down. Then, heavy, but purposeful steps make their way toward me.

When the door opens, I have to take a moment to look him up and down, unable to speak.

I've never been this close to him before.

Joshua Dean is all brawn and menace.

And damn if that doesn't turn me on.

There's a second part to my spell… one I'm beginning to want to try, but that will require a whole other level of trust. On both sides.

Finding my voice again, I say, "Hello, my name is Scarlette. Can I have a minute of your time?"

He looks me up and down, his gaze stuttering on my breasts, pushed up by the casual corset beneath my deep blue blouse.

"Whatever you're selling. We're not buying."

A little of that smile forces through. "I'm too old to be selling girl scout cookies, and I have no intention of trying to convert you to paganism. The conversation we need to have, concerns the full moon, and how I can help you."

He studies me for a long moment… my breasts are no longer his main focus. When I think he may be considering trying to turn me away again, I hold out my card, meeting his eyes, waiting with every confidence he'll take it.

He does.

"Scarlette Mathis: Witch?" He looks up at me after he's read it, and this time, he's the one who smiles. "I imagine this is going to be a good story. Come on in. I'm interested to hear what you think you know."

I step inside, a little surprised that the space doesn't look like a frat house.

Everything is dark wood and leather. The walls are an interesting shade of taupe.

If only it had plants… I could feel at home in the small sitting room he leads me to.

It's directly to the left of the front door, so there's not much else for me to see. But I'm certain the rest of his pack is close, listening.

He motions for the couch and takes a seat in a modern leather chair on the other side of the coffee table. The cantilever style chair lets out a tiny squeak as it adjusts to his deceptive weight. And the way he sits, as though he's ready to spring to his feet at any moment…

If I didn't know better, I'd think he was afraid of me.

Setting my purse beside my feet, I sit back, cross my legs.

Show no fear.

With a deep breath, and forcing a smile, I start my pitch. "As you know, the full moon is two nights away, so we don't have time to beat around the bush. You, are in charge of the local werewolf pack, Mr. Dean. And I am here, to make you an offer."

His brows raise in amusement. "Werewolves? That's an interesting theory. But I think you've read too many books."

"You and the other three men in the house right now tear yourself apart and change into wolves when the moon is full. It's a painful transformation that leaves you ravenous and lusting for meat. I don't know how long it has been since you were turned, so I don't know if you've managed to completely curb your appetite for humans. But I suspect—given the lack of disappearances and gruesome murders—that you're old enough to know better."

His face blanked about half way through my "theory."

"Let me ask you a question, Mr. Dean. What would you give, if I could offer you a way to mute the change. You would still be a servant of the moon, but you'd no longer be its slave. When you turned, it would be into a creature that was still more man than wolf. The majority of your bones wouldn't rearrange themselves. Your body wouldn't require the same amount of nourishment afterward."

His gaze shifts to the side, and I know the other three are right there.

"What I'm offering you, is the opportunity for more control. To retain your minds, even if you can't retain all of your bodies. It's a byproduct of a spell I need to perform. A spell that requires something of you in exchange."

Movement draws my attention back to the door to the room. Where the other three stand, shifting in various states of agitation.

"What do you need from us?" Thomas asks, arms folded over his chest, his jaw set, his feet planted.

It's almost as if he's protecting the others—which doesn't surprise me.

I've done my homework on all of them.

Thomas, the beautiful blond man who was a high school quarterback and prom king in the heartland, moved west and was similarly employed in his college social life. Not a blemish on his record or problematic post on his social media. He's the one I initially assumed would be a jerk, but in actuality, he's more likely to call them out.

In our small town, he teaches gym at the high school and coaches the district champion football team.

"I'll give you a potion to drink before the moon takes you. It will give you the ability to retain your mind," I hold up my hand because they look too hopeful. "But only for the night. Though, I warn you, the urges of the wolf won't go away with that simple potion."

I pause as they look at each other. I know what they're thinking, I can imagine how much they want that potion. "Which impulses you give into will depend on your will power, and how much help your pack mates give you. That potion, however is not the one that will truly change you. If you take the potion, and do not help me with the actual spell, you'll be right back where you were last month."

"You know my name." Joshua says, and I nod as I turn back to him, just a dip of my head. "So I assume you've been watching us for a while."

"You've covered your tracks well. I thought I'd have to go to the Portland area to perform the spell until I saw one of you four months ago."

"How do you know it wasn't a normal wolf?" This time it's Chase, the smaller man, standing at the back.

He's behind Tomas, leaning out as though he'll pop back the moment he feels threatened. Sweet little Chase has tinted his black hair with blue, and I'm curious how the nose ring works with his wolf.

"I was briefly a part of a coven that thought of your kind as pets meant to be tamed." I don't manage to keep the disgust in my tone tamped down. "That was one of the many reasons I left."

The ones in the door shift, uneasy.

I turn back to Joshua. He's the one of them who'll be hardest to convince. The other three want it. Especially Johnny, despite his silence, I saw his pale green eyes—so striking they're distracting—when I looked over. Know the heavily muscled man is possibly the gentlest of them all.

"You weren't easy to find. And I am here because I need your help. I'm not asking you to do this for me without compensation. It is a partnership I am offering."

"Why would we need a partnership with you if doing this one thing would change us from then on?"

"I don't threaten to withhold the potion. If you want to buy it from me, we can work that out, but… having a witch who is in a mood to do you favors is always a bonus."

I wait for them to ask about the rest of the spell.

They don't. But I can't leave this house without telling them everything.

"After the potion, you will need to meet me at the Hillgate Pioneer Cemetery. The mausoleum is a show piece. No one is actually interred there. I will trim your fur to use in the spell. The more of your fur, the stronger the results. Once I perform the spell, your forms will change and your urges will dissipate. From then on, you will never be full wolves again."

Joshua watches me. Jaw tight as he considers the decision. "What do you get out of it?"

"Clarity, power, and protection."

A flash of distrust crosses over Joshua's face. "Who's protection are you gaining."

"The wolves you'll lose. They are specters, not actual wolves, but used correctly, they're just as effective."

"We won't be bound to you."

"Not at all." I pause, waiting for him to mull over my words.

Even in their human form, werewolves can usually sniff out lies.

That doesn't necessarily mean he'll believe me.

"The spell is an unbinding. What comes next will bind the wolf spirits to me. But that will have nothing to do with you."

Joshua looks at the others and I wait. If they've been together long enough—and they're close enough—they can hear each other's thoughts. They can have a whole conversation without me.

And it looks like they've been together for a while.

"We'll consider it."

I almost say "that's all I can ask."

But it isn't.

"My offer is only good for this Halloween. Otherwise, you'll have to wait until twenty thirty-nine."

Standing, I open my bag and pull the flask from where I'd nestled it. "Either way, the potion is yours this full moon. Free of charge."

Joshua takes it and I close my bag and I hesitate. Because what I'm about to say could make up their minds in either direction.

I just have to hope they're horny.

"There is a third part to the spell. It would bind you to me. I would be able to control your shifting. You could be man or wolf, or somewhere in between, any time you chose."

"You mean…" Chase says, eyes shifting to Johnny, "We could theoretically never have to change again?"

"Yes. I could stop the full moon transformation, or, I could turn you into a wolf on the third day of a waxing crescent."

"So, any time you chose." Joshua says.

"No, the binding is tenuous. You can break it any time you want. If I were to force the change on you, you would be able to break the ties that held us together. And you would return to changing only on the full moon."

"Would we go back to full wolves?"

"No, the unbinding spell would be woven beneath it, shedding it like a coat would not remove the layer below."

"What does that part of the spell entail?" Johnny asks.

And now, I know, at least they're considering it.

"It's a sex ritual. After you are changed from wolf to wolf-man and have your faculties again, I'll give you the option. That spell does not require all of you. If only one of you wants that power, only one of you has to take me up on it. If you all do…" Somehow spelling it out has made me less confident, but I force a smile. "We'll all have fond memories of a blue moon Samhain."

Picking up my umbrella, I walk to the front door, and turn back to them. They're standing in the doorway still, Joshua with them now. They make a delicious picture

"Think about my offer. I hope to see you in the cemetery in two day's time."

Leaving them to make the right choice—whatever that might be—I carefully make my way back down the oddly sloping steps, and to my car.

They might not have watched me arrive, but I know they're watching me now. So I don't take an extra moment to blow out the stressed breath that threatens in my lungs. I place my purse and umbrella back on the passenger side and punch the button to start the ignition.

I drive away from them without looking back and, hopefully, head into a safer future.