Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

R egie woke slowly, the sunlight filtering through the window indicated morning had arrived. She stretched and felt a pleasant ache in her body, especially between her legs.

Smiling, she opened her eyes but found the other side of the bed empty. She got up and walked to the door. Had he left to go sleep on the couch? Or worse, had someone relieved his shift, and he'd left the apartment?

As she opened the door, she heard his voice from the kitchen. Nobody responded, so he must be on the phone. She quickly showered and got dressed in yoga pants and a t-shirt. Padding down the hallway, she thought about how to greet him. Or more about how he would greet her.

As she entered the kitchen, he looked up at her with a smile. "Hey, Babe." The man looked ridiculously rested and too handsome for his own good, dressed in a maroon t-shirt and jeans .

She groaned at the corny nick-name. "Please stop using it."

He rose from the breakfast bar where he'd been sitting. "Nope, I love it too much." His face turned serious. "I know there are things we need to talk about. But your grandfather just called. There's some kind of emergency at Lofn and he's downstairs waiting with a car."

"What kind of emergency?"

"He didn't say. Just told us to meet him downstairs. I heard you get out of the shower and told him we'd be down shortly."

He walked to her and enveloped in a warm hug.

To her horror, she felt the black energy inside her rise in response. Like a hibernating snake waking up, the power uncoiled and stretched hungry tendrils toward Bolt.

He pushed her away as if she'd burnt him. "What the fuck?" His arms fell.

She couldn't look at him. Trembling with the effort of containing the dark evil inside her, she took a step back. What if he touched her again? Would she kill him, like she'd almost done with the man in the college parking lot? She knew he had barely survived because she'd called the hospital to check up on him the day after the incident. He'd been diagnosed as having a major cardiac arrest event .

In her panic, she forgot everything Laney had told her about how to control her powers.

Bolt reached for her, but she took another step back and then ran back into her bedroom. Tears clouded her vision as she dug in her closet for socks and shoes.

He entered the bedroom. "Regie, what's going on? What was that?"

She couldn't look at him. Her thoughts stumbled over themselves in her brain. "I can't explain. We have to go meet Grandfather." She rushed by him, careful not to touch him, and ran for the front door.

She heard Bolt call her name from behind. Blindly, she stumbled forward, out the door, and kept going. The elevator would take too long, so she ran down the stairs. Maybe the burst of energy would burn away the darkness. She could hear footsteps behind her, and as she reached the bottom floor, Bolt caught up with her. He reached for her, and she sidestepped. "Regie, you can't run off on your own. It's not safe."

"Don't touch me, please," she whispered. Tears welled in her eyes. "I don't want to hurt you."

He frowned, but dropped his hand. Together, they walked through the lobby and out of the building.

Her grandfather stood on the sidewalk, next to a black town car. "Regina," he said. "What's going on? "

"Nothing." She cleared her throat as Bolt stepped closer to her. "What's the emergency?"

"I'll explain on the way. Get in." Grandfather gestured toward the car.

She turned and faced Bolt. "You don't have to come. Send someone else to guard me for today."

He opened his mouth to say something, but then tilted his head and inhaled deeply through his nose. His gaze turned cold, and his eyes narrowed. "Witch," he said so quietly she almost thought she imagined it, contempt dripping from every syllable. The disgust in his eyes made her stomach clench.

How did he know what she was? She couldn't ask him in front of her grandfather.

"I'm staying," he said, tapping furiously on his phone, probably to Arek, Nora, or Laney. She didn't want to think about what he may be telling them. At least they knew about her abilities and weren't scared of them. But they really should be. She knew Laney couldn't have figured out the true darkness of the energy inside her. Thinking that Regie would be able to control her powers had all been hopeful thinking.

Bolt knew her true nature.

She only knew how to destroy and kill. She was evil.

Grandfather opened the backseat door for her, and she stepped closer to the car. "You can leave us now," she told Bolt without looking at him. "Someone else can meet me at Lofn."

"I'd prefer to ride in the car with you," he said. "I'm contractually obligated to protect you."

Contractually obligated. She wanted to both laugh and cry. All those sweet words he'd said yesterday meant nothing. "Fine," she said and scooted over.

Bolt slid in, and she leaned toward the opposite side so she wouldn't touch him. The dark tendrils of power kept reaching for him.

Regie closed her eyes and clamped down hard on the little control she had on the blackness inside her. No matter what Bolt felt for her now—hate and the disgust she'd earlier seen in his eyes probably—she didn't want to hurt him. If she could just get to Lofn, then she could isolate herself in her office until the darkness subsided. Or until Laney could help her.

"Can you call Laney and tell her to meet us at Lofn?" she asked Bolt.

He nodded without looking at her.

Grandfather moved as if to close the door, but instead, leaned in with a raised hand. Something metallic glittered in his grip, and he slammed it into Bolt's neck.

At the same time, the door on Regie's side opened. An arm reached in, and before she could react, she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder .

Her vision blurred, and then everything faded to black.

Regie woke up in her old bedroom at Grandfather's house. Her head pounded worse than the one hangover she'd experienced in college. She'd never gotten intoxicated again. Not because of her achy head, but because she could never risk losing control. After she'd almost killed the man in the parking lot by the trail, she had never allowed the black tendrils of power out again.

She turned her head and found Bolt sitting in a chair beside her bed, staring at her as if she were the foulest thing he'd ever seen.

So much for the truth of the chemistry between them. She should have known better than to trust his pretty words. Nobody could love a creature as foul as her.

"What are you?" he growled. "How did you keep your scent cloaked from me?"

Regie considered playing dumb and pretend she didn't know what he referred to, but it seemed a waste of time. "I don't know," she sighed. "Laney says I'm something like what she is, but I don't really understand it."

He tilted his head, the gesture oddly animal-like. His wolf must be close to the surface. "You don't know how you prevented me from detecting your magic? "

He really didn't get it. A hysteric giggle bubbled up in her throat, threatening to escape. She swallowed hard to keep it trapped. "I don't know any of it. I don't know what you mean when you ask how I hide this." She sounded oddly defensive, but that's how she felt. Defensive and hopeless. "Maybe you can explain it to me?"

He snorted. "There is no rhyme or reason to the evils of witchcraft. I would be the last person able to explain it."

All of a sudden, Regie had had enough. Enough of feeling bad for this evil thing inside her that she'd never asked for. Enough of having feelings for a man who said he felt the same, but then turned cold as soon as she showed a side of herself he didn't approve of. "Where do you get off judging my abilities, but assume yours are above reproach? Why are all witches evil, but wolf shifters are not?"

At least he had the decency to look bashful. "All witches are not evil."

She didn't have the energy for a debate. "What happened in the car?"

"We were drugged."

"Yeah, I figured that part out. What I mean is, who drugged us, and is Grandfather okay?" She gestured toward the room at large. "This is his house."

One of his eyebrows rose. "That's interesting. I know as little as you, but the door is locked." He gave the entrance to the room a dirty look. "I can't break it down. It's too thick."

An image of Grandfather plunging a syringe into Bolt rose in her mind, but before she could tell him, the lock clicked, and the door opened.

Lightning fast, Bolt moved between her and the door. He faced the entrance, shoulders tense and fists clenched. Regie would have felt flattered if she hadn't known he protected her because he was contractually obligated to defend her.

Her grandfather entered, holding a large black handgun pointed at Bolt. "You're both awake. That's good."

Regie sat up and scooted to the end of the bed. "What's going on? Are you okay?" The gun confused her, but she worried more about the well-being of Grandfather. Why had he drugged them? There had to be some kind of reasonable explanation.

"I'm fine," he said. "Even better now that this brute has awakened the powers inside you."

Bolt growled. Regie couldn't tell if it was to mock her grandfather's derogatory term or if he was truly angry. But that was not the most confusing thing now. She stood and swayed when the room spun around her.

Bolt shot her a concerned look over his shoulder, but didn't move .

She grabbed the edge of the bed to steady herself. "I don't understand. Why do you have a gun? Is the emergency here and not at Lofn?"

Grandfather gave her a pitying look. "All those degrees, and you still haven't worked it out." He shook his head. "I've spent months sending you messages and texts, trying to scare you to the point where your ability would manifest itself. Silly me, I thought self-preservation would enable your magic. If I'd known I just had to get you laid, we could have had this settled a long time ago."

Regie's mind spun. She sank down on the bed. "What?" She meant to say so much more, but basically, that encompassed everything. That and what the fuck?

"Look," her grandfather said. "I'm actually very fond of you, but I'm dying. There's an inoperable tumor growing in my brain. It's been there for years, but your mother's powers kept it under control. Well, up to a point. It turns out that if witches heal others too often, they eventually deplete their own life energy." He flung out the arm not holding the gun. "Who knew?"

"You killed Regie's mother," Bolt said. It wasn't a question. He took a step toward Grandfather.

The older man immediately raised the gun higher and held it steady. "You stay right there and don't move. Maybe you're the key to keep Regie's powers flowing, but I'm pretty sure you'll work just as well with a gunshot in your body. A gut wound takes a long time to bleed out. I can probably harvest most of her powers before you die, especially if I promise she can use some of them to save you."

Regie stood again and took a step toward her grandfather. "I don't have healing powers." The darkness inside her knew only how to destroy and kill. She took another step forward. "I don't know how sick you are, but please put that gun down. We can figure this out. We'll find a doctor who can help you."

"I've been to all the doctors. There is no cure." He smiled and looked at her, his eyes cold and calculating. It was as if a stranger watched her. "No cure, but magic, that is. That's where you come in, dear granddaughter. I've fed and clothed you for years, waiting for you to become useful, and now your moment is finally here."

Regie tried to make sense of his words, but the aftereffects of the drug made the room spin, and she thought she'd throw up. She sat down on the bed again.

Bolt unbuckled his pants, dropped them, and pulled the shirt over his head.

"What are you doing?" Grandfather asked. "I may need you to fuck Regie if her powers don't cooperate, but this is not the time."

Bolt chuckled. The air shimmered around him, and the pressure in the room dropped.

Regie's ears popped, distracting her from Bolt getting naked for a beat, and when she looked up again, he had disappeared .

In his place, the silver wolf stood, shaking a pair of boxer briefs off its back paws.

Grandfather dropped the gun and stumbled backwards.

The wolf growled and then turned to grin at Regie before leaping at Grandfather.

The older man turned and ran out the door, the wolf chasing him.

Regie would have followed if the queasiness hadn't overwhelmed her. She didn't feel ill so much from the drugs as knowing her grandfather had killed her mother.

She doubled over and vomited on the floor.