Broken Warrior (The Weavers Circle 1)

Clay glanced away and something wicked twisted in Dane’s gut.

“I-I was joking. You can’t really do that, can you?” Cold fear washed through his veins and he took a step backward from Clay.

Clay looked at him, lips in a wry twist. “Grey can, but he hasn’t read yours. I told him he couldn’t. I wouldn’t do that to you, Dane.”

“So, you can move vines, Grey can read minds…” He waved a hand lamely in Baer’s direction as he tried to get his brain to form the words. “I’m guessing Baer has some ability, too?”

Clay nodded. “This is bigger than vines and reading minds. A hell of a lot bigger.”

Baer suddenly cried out and Flo, who looked contrite for the first time in Dane’s memory, patted his chest lightly. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Some of this has stuck to drying blood and hair. Maybe some water would ease it.”

Grey returned with the whiskey and uncapped the bottle for Baer. “Luckily, it survived the trip. Here, this will help.”

“Thank you,” Baer muttered as he tipped up the bottle and took several big gulps. Dane’s eyes watered just watching him swallow that much.

“Clay,” Flo said. “I want you to help me get him into the bathroom.”

But Clay looked at Dane, his heart in his eyes.

“Go,” Dane said. “I don’t really feel like talking to you right now anyway.”

Dane suddenly couldn’t handle any of this. He turned and stalked from the room. When he heard someone following him, he ignored them and continued into the kitchen. Coffee. He needed coffee. As he started filling the pot, a throat cleared behind him. He turned to see Jo standing just a few feet away. He ignored her and scooped grounds into the filter.

“Saw something out there today? Something you can’t explain?” Her voice was so warm and gentle. The kind of voice you’d expect a grandmother to have, but he wasn’t sure of Jo and the other women now. If Clay and the guys had magic, what were they? Witches?

“I don’t know what the hell I saw, but it wasn’t natural, that’s for sure.”

Jo took a step closer to him. “There’s nothing more natural than magic.”

“Well, I would have liked being in the loop in all this.” He punched the buttons until the coffeemaker started to brew. Hell, he was going to have to grab some of that whiskey from Baer and add it to his coffee after this fucking day.

“Flo warned him about telling you. We were sure you wouldn’t have believed him.”

“You don’t know that,” Dane snapped.

“You would have believed him if he told you creatures are after him? Creatures not of this Earth?”

Dane gave her an incredulous look. “You’re saying those men they were fighting were what…aliens? Come on!”

Jo leaned against the island opposite him and raised one white eyebrow as if to say, “See, I told you so.”

Heat flushed Dane’s cheeks, and he had to look at the floor for a second. Okay, maybe he wouldn’t have been incredibly understanding at first, but Clay should have still tried to tell him. Or maybe show him a little magic.

“In a sense,” Jo continued. “They’re beings from another dimension.”

Dane scrubbed his hands over his face, then stared at the woman. “This is fucking insane.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but you’ve been drawn into a very old battle. Clay is a part of that battle and will be facing a lot of danger. You care for that man, don’t you?”

Dane didn’t answer the question. He didn’t know how to. Had he started to care? Hell yes, more than he thought possible. He was practically in love with the man. Or whatever he was.

“Could you leave him now when he needs you most?”

“Why would he need me?”

“Oh, I think he needs you more than any of us realize. In fact, I think you might be the very thing we need for this to finally work. I think you, Dane, could be the missing piece.”

Dane sighed. His head was starting to throb at the temples, and her words were starting to feel like nonsense. “You’re talking in circles, Jo.”

“Everything I’m saying will make sense. You just have to listen to me.”

She launched into a story about gathering six men of good souls, and it grew more fantastic as she talked. One world sucking the life out of another, men fighting to heal a rift in dimensions—men who could live very long lives. He forgot all about the coffee as he listened to what sounded like a book of fiction. Science fiction. Crazy fiction.

“You’re some kind of goddess?”

She gave him a somewhat stern look. “Why is it that everyone struggles with that notion? Yes, I’m a goddess.”

He looked at her in her jeans and thin, pink sweater. She looked nothing like he imagined a goddess would. Not that he’d ever spent time imagining goddesses.