“They had schools back then?” Maddox high-fived Beck. “Did you use feather quills or stone tablets?”

“The kitchen, miss?” The chief ignored his underlings.

Oh, she was fudging this up and fudging it up good. She needed to think. A flick of her hand, and the three of them froze. The two younger males were statues with their hands pulling back from a high-five. The chief had his hands on his hips, his lips fluffed out in the end of the “s” sound of miss.

She could make something up. Start a little fire in the corner? That wasn’t going to work. She needed them to go away, not prowl around anymore than they were already. Plus, they were shifters—she would give her witch card away if they weren’t. Not that there was a witch card to give away. “Think Emma.”

The door opened to the workshop. The door that shouldn’t have been able to open. Naturally, she’d spellbound the door at the same time as the room’s occupants. But the door opened.

“Chief. I’ve done a complete round . . .” Brown Eyes glanced around, a knowing look on his face, and tucked in his lower lip. “A witch. Just my fucking luck––only me.”

“What? How the? You’re not a witch. How . . .” Her thoughts stuttered. Again. Only a witch should have been able to open that door. She stared at him.

“No, I’m not a witch. I’m going back out that door, and when I open it, you’re going to wave your hand and unfreeze my crew.”

2

Flint Larsen’s day continued to get worse. His week, his month, his year. He slammed the door, but the door didn’t thud behind him, and that settled under his skin, adding to his horrible mood.

For the half minute before she’d kneed him in the balls, he’d been enjoying his day. He didn’t even care about the slush leaking down the neckline of his coat. A witch was exactly what he didn’t need. Didn’t want. The backstabbing, scheming, father-killing witches. They all needed to gather themselves up into a giant ball and vanish. And he included his mother in that lot.

He didn’t put his ear to the door but shouted again, “Chief, I’ve . . .” He opened the door. But Chief Ledger, Maddox, and Beckham didn’t budge, still frozen in place. A little breeze circled the room, wiggling the Chief’s mustache. Flint twisted his hands in front of him like he was passing out bread. “Witch. I said, ‘release them.”’

Wild, curly red hair cascaded down her back, and her blue eyes were wide, her lips thinned and pulled back. Flint had seen that look more than once on his sisters. In the older of the two twins, it meant duck. She was about to throw something at his head. For the younger twin, it was an alarm for waterworks. Tears made him flee—he’d rather be hit by a two by four. Emotions needed to happen on the inside, weighed down by years of baggage. At least, that’s how he did it. No, when the warm little witch had landed in his arms—before he’d discovered she was a witch—he’d pictured her doing something completely different to his balls than sticking her knee in them.

“Listen, shit,” he said. “You’re fine, you’re not in any trouble. False alarms go off all the time. All the time. No worries. I’ll go back out of the room, and this time, do your thing.”

“My thing?” Her lip trembled.

“Yeah. You know, your little hand wavy thing.”

“How come you can get through the spell?”

“Long story. It’s not worth telling.” It was long, all right. Long and frustrating and also all kinds of messed up. And if she dug far enough, she would know the whole story. Because the witch had to know who his aunt was. But if she didn’t, he didn’t need to tell her. What he didn’t need was the rest of his crew knowing the full context of his story. Flint and his sisters had managed to keep their little side-gene a secret from their wolf pack, even if his cousin hadn’t. Wolves and witches were enemies and had been for a long time. Long enough that they’d killed his dad. Cursed into his fur, his father had wandered off into the woods, forgetting he was anything but an animal.

“But my energy bled into you.”

“Indeed. I’d give it back, but . . .” But he didn’t know how. Intentionally, he knew nothing. Like how his baby sister never learned how to make coffee because she didn’t drink it and she didn’t want to have to make it for anyone. He wanted nothing to do with his magic.

“I can take it back from you.”

“Good. I didn’t take it on purpose.”

“I didn’t say you did.” Her blue eyes flashed at him.

“First, I’m going back through the door. You’re going to release them, and afterward you can have your power back.” He let out a breath and ran the palm of his hand over his face. He didn’t want this power, but he didn’t trust the little witch not to do something else to his crew.

Flint had his hand on the door handle, his back to the little witch, when she spoke up.

“You can’t tell me what to do.” Her voice shook behind him.

Flint pivoted so quick the gear on his back shook and clinked together. “What now?”

“I said you can’t tell me what to do.” She tilted her chin up, so that if they were standing in front of each other, it would almost come up to the middle of his chest.

He clenched his molars together. “No, I suppose I can’t. But unless you have unlimited power, eventually you’re going to run out. And then what? I don’t think you want me standing here. Do you? And I still have your excess power. Don’t I?” Get this over with as fast as possible was what went through his head.

“Yes. But I can’t have them searching the building.” She cocked her head at him.

Flint let his shoulders relax. “Is that it? Fine. I can get them out of here without much fuss.”

“You can?”

“That’s what I was hollering about when I came in the first time. So absolutely.”

“All right.” She smiled at him. And it traveled right to his cock. What the fuck was he thinking? He didn’t need an attachment, and he certainly didn’t need a witch. Anything but a witch.

“You ready to try this again?”

“Yes. You promise you’ll take them right out?”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep. I’ll do my best.” Making promises you couldn’t keep was something his parents had done.

“I bet your best is better than most.” She nodded at him. And shit, he didn’t want to like the petite witch with her intoxicating curls. His body had other ideas, though, a lot of other ideas. He turned away from her with a grunt. Chief Ledger’s mustache was fluttering in the wind even more now. The little strawberry had pushed a lot of power at Flint. Under his glove, he could feel the magical flames reaching out, calling to be used.

If she didn’t take it back? It might not wait until he got back to his house with the door shut. To fill a power orb and lock it away with the rest of the ones he’d filled in the last three years. The space was getting full, and quite frankly, at some point he was going to have to do something with it. There was too much power. But right now, he had to get through his shift. He’d gone years without using any magic. He could go another few hours.

“Ready?” he called through the closed door.

“Ready for what? Did you find a fire?” Chief pushed the door open.

“Nope. Place is clear. Ready to go?” Flint crossed his arms over his chest. “I checked out the kitchen to see what overheated. We’re good to go.” Flint held the chief’s glare.

“I’m sorry, what is your name?” Chief Ledger asked the little strawberry.

“Name?” The witch shivered.

“Yes, name. We need it for the report.” Chief had out his little notebook.

“Oh, right, sure. Emma Davis.” She stuck out her hand, and the chief juggled his notebook and pen to shake it.

Flint growled, and the chief’s head snapped his way. The chief wasn’t Flint’s alpha. He didn’t even belong to Flint’s pack. But Flint’s black wolf respected him like an alpha. And other than the one time last Fourth of July that Ledger had made him pull an extra duty, he’d never even so much as thought a bad word about the chief.

“Flint? You okay?” Maddox had come up behind him.

“Yup. The burritos from last night aren’t agreeing with me. Hey, I’ll take Ms. Davis back to check out the kitchen. Make sure she orders a new microwave.” Flint nodded at Emma.

Beck laughed. “Trying to get out of drying the hoses?” When the alarm at the old Hundsburg elementary school had gone off, they’d been in the middle of flushing and drying the hoses. A necessary part of their job, and one Flint never shirked. The station was next to the school. It was faster to walk than drive, though, which was why the rest of the team had been coming over on the engine. The rear door of the school backed up to the station, but the main driveway and front door were on a side road on the opposite side of the building.