Chapter Eleven

I wanted to call Dominic and yell at him. But that would be taking it too easy on him. I may be a pure soul, but I also had a vengeful side that needed satisfaction. Mainly because my heart was breaking.

I glanced at the door, considering going into my stash and having a swig of Get Over It. But that would feel like weakness, and I didn't want to numb my emotions. I needed to feel everything so that I remembered not to trust people so easily. One day. It had only been one fucking day, and I had let Dominic in. Into my home, my body, and my heart. It was embarrassing. He was probably at home, laughing with his other packmate.

“Don't be bitter,” I snapped at myself. “He's not laughing. It was real. He just didn't tell me the part where it would be more than him getting real with me.” My anger cooled a bit, but that was worse. Because sorrow rose to replace it.

There was no way I'd become their destined mate, giving them something to live for, and all that crap. And it was crap. Because it would be a spell. A spell cast by a god. Yeah, that part had sunk deep and really screwed with me. I knew all about magic. The good and the bad. The light and the dark. It was all perspective, of course. But, generally, altering someone's free will was considered bad juju. Bad manners at the very least.

It was difficult to do—love spells. The heart is the most stubborn organ in the human body, even more stubborn than the brain. It's like a cat. You can't force cats to do things like you can with dogs. Cats don't care about things like alphas or if you're mad at them. If you want a cat to do something, you have to make them want to do it. Oh, and don't even think about punishing them if they do something you don't like. They'll just shit in your shoes. Yeah, cats can be difficult little assholes. But when they love you, they do it with all their being, and that love is real. It's not obedience or training. It's given freely and forever. You win a cat's love, and you feel like a god.

Hearts are the same as far as magic goes. And I don't mean the actual organ, despite that line about hearts and brains. I'm sure you know that, but let's be clear. I'm talking about what the organ represents. What's “housed” in it. Love. I make potions that work with love, giving it what it wants—relief from pain, a new insight, the chance to be fulfilled. But if you try to force love to go where you want it to go, it will fuck you up. All claws out. Shit not in your shoes but on your face. Oh, you may get it to submit at first, but it will inevitably find a way free. And then all hell will break loose.

Or all Hades.

Love spells aren't just difficult to cast, they're also difficult to maintain. And they have to be maintained because of the aforementioned stubbornness of the human heart. It wants what it wants. That being said, a love spell cast by a god was a different matter entirely. Would it all go to Hades if Hades was the one to set the enchantment? I was betting not. That spell would be unbreakable. Which was what made it so terrifying.

“Oh, fuck.” I swayed on my feet. “It might already be taking effect. That would explain why I feel so strongly about Dominic after only one day.”

“Amélie!” Jackie rushed into the office and steadied me. “Are you all right? Here. Sit down.” She helped me to my chair.

“Sure. Now, you come in,” I muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” I smiled at her. “Thanks. I just haven't eaten today. My blood sugar is dropping.”

“Oh, girl. I feel you.”

Jackie's parents were Nigerian and African-American. She was stunning, with dark skin and even darker hair the color of a bear's pelt. And she had the temperament to match—God love her. Being around Jackie was comforting because she reminded me of my family in Louisiana. She felt like home. Like strength. Not that the other side of my family didn't empower me. I learned a lot from my Mom's mom. And the rest of my Greek relatives were pretty wonderful too. I remember visiting Greece one summer and meeting all of my cousins. We were just little kids, and you know how kids are. They don't give a shit. They'll call it like they see it. They took one look at me and called me a mermaid.

Yep, a mermaid. I don't know what it was. If it was the darker shade of my skin or my wild curls which were even wilder back then, but they saw a sea creature when they looked at me. Maybe they just sensed the magic inside me. Kids are more sensitive to magic than adults are. Whatever it was, I loved it. I had never felt more proud of who I was.

Jackie didn't make me feel like a mermaid. But she did make me feel like a strong woman who could face anything. Even a trinity of supernatural men with magic that could force my heart into submission. Fuck that. My heart had swamp water running through it.

Jackie had been going on as I silently mused over magic, men, and family. I caught the end of what she was saying.

“—get hangry and then woozy. You're at the woozy stage. You just stay here and I'll grab you something from the kitchen. You want some toast?” She headed for the door.

“Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.”

“I'll smother it in Nutella.” She winked at me as she left.

Our kitchen was on the small side, just large enough to make bar food. But it had an industrial fridge and freezer as well as a full-sized oven. Not just a range. I could have gone back there and made French toast if I wanted to. But hunger wasn't my problem. No, that title belonged to Dominic and Darius.

“I wonder what the third guy's name is,” I muttered. “And if he looks like the other two.”

Then I squared my shoulders. Jackie had given me the kick in the pants I needed. The Hounds of Hades may have a god on their side, but I had magic too. I was . . .

“Oh, wow,” I whispered as another part of my conversation with Darius returned to me. “A pure soul. The Blessed Isles.” I blinked. “I need to call Grandma.”

I fumbled for my purse and pulled out my phone. Jackie had inspired me to be strong, but the person I truly needed to talk to was my grandma. My Mom's mom. She wasn't just a witch. She was also Greek. She worshiped the Greek Gods. Well, a few of them. Not Hades. And what I had to tell her probably wouldn't change that. But if there was anyone who would understand what I was going through and even find joy in what I had discovered, it would be her. And I needed someone to point out the positives of this situation.

“Here you go!” Jackie returned with a toasted croissant slathered in Nutella. “I found a bag of croissants in the fridge. I figured they wouldn't last long anyway.”

“Oh, that looks amazing!” I reached for it, then moaned when she set down a mug of steaming coffee beside it. “Thank you. You're a goddess!”

“I know.” She smirked. “I figured if you haven't eaten yet, this would be breakfast.”

I bit into the croissant and groaned. “You should make one for yourself. This is incredible.”

“Oh, girl. I did. It's in the toaster.” She sauntered out the door. “You all right now?”

“All good. Thank you.”

“You want the door shut?”

“Yes, please. I'll be out in a few.”

“No rush. The others are here. They're already prepping.”

“You guys are great. Thank you.”

“Again. I know.” She shut the door.

I dialed my grandmother.