Blind Warrior (The Weavers Circle 3)

Ruby trotted over to Grey, who immediately started petting her. Cort watched him for a moment before his attention was pulled back to Baer. His hair was really red in the setting sun, a grin stretching his lips wide as he laughed at Clay.

In the next instant, he was gone, and a Saint Bernard stood in his place. Ruby barked and ran to the dog.

Cort blinked, staring as the two began to play together. “Baer is now a dog. Holy shit. He’s a dog.”

“He does that fast, huh?” Grey lifted his beer to his lips and took a healthy swallow.

“It’s amazing. Now, he’s shifted into a bear. Lucien looks kind of worried.” Cort watched the brown bear walking toward Lucien. “He’s incredible. He did the change so fast!”

“Lots of practice. Something we all need to be doing.”

“Even you?” Cort inquired.

“Yeah, that trick with Calder let me know my powers are still there. I just need to practice them in a different way. Need to get better at recognizing enthralled people, too.” Grey tilted his head as footsteps shuffled in the grass.

One of the goddesses sat down next to Cort. Her white hair was in a fluffy bob, her mouth in a wide, friendly smile. She wore pink slacks and a flower-print shirt, looking like someone’s grandmother. The fact that she was an actual goddess still amazed him. “Now you know about everything. I’m Josephina, by the way, but you can call me Aunt Jo, like the others do. Grey’s one of mine.”

“Your what?” Cort asked, liking the woman’s warm presence.

“I’m the goddess of animal and soul. I held on to Grey’s powers for him. Baer’s, too. They’re my responsibility.”

Cort wanted to ask why she didn’t do something about Grey’s sight, but it wasn’t his place. Seemed kind of rude to question a goddess. But if she was a goddess, didn’t she have more magic?

“You’re wondering why I don’t do something about his vision, aren’t you?” she said with a small, knowing smile. “Unfortunately, I can’t. I would if I could. It’ll all be right in the end. Wiley is working on a good spell now.”

“What’s it like to be a goddess?” Cort blurted out, warmth creeping up his neck.

“Don’t know how to be anything else. I’ve been one a long, long time. More time than you can imagine.”

“You’ve witnessed some of the biggest world happenings.”

She nodded, eyes twinkling. “Yes, I was here for the invention of sliced bread.”

Cort barked out a laugh, and Grey’s warm chuckles were manna to his ears. He’d been mostly quiet all evening. He was likely still worrying or feeling guilty about the danger he’d put Cort in. Unfortunately, Cort didn’t know how to make him stop. He could only offer up his presence and hope it comforted Grey.

Everything was different with Grey now. The man was no longer just a client—Cort was a part of his secret world now. But he was also completely awed by it.

He couldn’t help but admire Grey and how he handled losing his sight when it was tied into powers that were supposed to save the world. He’d been drawn to him from the beginning, his intelligence and humor. He could be surprisingly gentle, yet hard too. Everything about him attracted Cort and now, knowing what he did about Grey’s secret life…he was even more so.

He turned his attention back to Baer, who was now frolicking with his dog as a Labrador retriever, and marveled over the fact that he knew it was Baer in that form. Calder waved his hands over the pool, working with the water while Clay and Lucien stared. Wiley and Dane stood quietly watching the antics, both smiling up a storm.

They were like one big, happy family.

A weird fucking family, but a family nonetheless.

“I understand you’re going to be staying with us a while,” Jo said, and he looked at her.

Cort offered her a friendly smile. “Looks that way.”

She patted his arm. “You fit in just right.”

He had no idea what she meant by that, so he nodded.

The air had gotten chillier, and he pulled the lapels of his jacket closer together and glanced at Grey to make sure he was comfortable. The Weaver lolled in his seat, not seeming to notice the cool air, his head cocked to the side as he listened to his friends. The gray at his temples gave him such a distinguished look, and Cort wondered if it was genetics that had caused him to gray early. He wanted to run his fingers over those gray stands. They suited him, made him look a little older than his twenty-eight years. But part of that was just the way he carried himself, with an innate confidence Cort found highly addictive. He found everything about Grey appealing.

Wanted to see the man naked and stretched out on a bed.