Season of the Witch (Claws Clause 2)

“She called me to warn me they knew I was after them. And, well,” Wright shrugged, “because her beastly husband was probably gonna try to go after my head, too, now.”

Colt decided then and there—and his wolf agreed—that the cop had to be out of his mind. It obviously didn’t bother him that the Nightwalkers were trying to get at him, or that Maddox would be livid. Why else would he have driven straight to Wolf’s Creek instead of holing up in Grayson where it would be safe for him?

He shook his head, marveling at his recklessness. “You’re a fucking moron, Wright.”

Wright didn’t respond to that. How could he when it was the Alpha’s honest truth?

Instead, he nodded over at Colt. “My superiors tapped you for the same reason. You’ve got your pack, but you don’t have a mate. There’s no one they can go after that’ll hurt you.”

Colt went absolutely still. A glimmer of purple eyes, those soft, bouncy curls, a sweet smile...

What about Shea? His wolf wanted to howl at just the thought of a corpse trying to lay a fang on her.

After he accepted the gig, he talked himself into believing she’d be safe because he’d take down the Nightwalker threat in no time. Only it still hadn’t happened and, with Evangeline the latest victim of their spree, Colt couldn’t stop himself from wondering if Shea would be next. They already got a witch once that he knew of, and now Wright was admitting that this had been going on for longer than the pack even knew?

No… no. It didn’t matter. As soon as she finally found the right spell to separate them, there would be no reason why the Nightwalkers would go after her. Even if they didn’t have that fated tie keeping them together, Colt would still make sure she was safe. He owed her that much, at least.

And if he was lying to himself, that was fine. Wright was an Ant. No way he could tell.

“Damn right. Now, listen, I’m gonna tell you straight. You go in there, I won’t be able to keep Maddox from going for your throat. He’s taking care of his mate. Evangeline’s gonna be fine. But if you want to take care of her—”

“Eva might not be mine,” cut in Wright, “but I’ll never forget how much I care for her.”

Colt resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Oh, yeah. The cop definitely had a death wish. He was lucky that Colt moved him far enough away from the house that there was no chance Maddox had heard that.

“Right. Anyway, you want to make them pay for going after her? Then that’s what we do. You and me. I’ve got skin in it now. She’s pack. More than that, she’s family. Don’t freeze me out anymore. Together, we’ll take down the Nightwalkers.”

Wright tightened his jaw, a muscle ticking in his cheek. He might’ve winced when Colt said family, but determination overtook him near the end of Colt’s little speech.

“Yes, we fucking will.”

9

Maddox put his paw down. It didn’t matter that Evangeline thought he was overreacting, or that he was putting his mate before the needs of his pack. Now that the home in Wolf’s Creek proved to be compromised and Evangeline was a target, he had bags packed early the next morning.

There was a cabin on pack land that had a particular meaning to Maddox and his mate. It was more than an hour away from his home, past the mountains up north, and hidden a few miles inside of the forests surrounding the territory. Because the heart of the land was where the Alpha couple made their home, most of the lower-ranking pack members lived nearby.

It was a perfect sanctuary.

Maddox wanted to tuck Evangeline in the cabin while the Nightwalker threat was ongoing. As he argued, with so many packmates living in the area, the vamps would be torn to shreds long before they even sniffed out the cabin. Evangeline would be safe.

Their father actually okayed the move. Colt probably shouldn’t have been surprised. Terrence always told his boys that there was more to being mates than just mating. A mate’s needs always had to come first.

Of course, that meant that Maddox wouldn’t be available to run the pack’s side of the hunt for the Nightwalkers, even though he had the biggest motivation to cull them since they had gone after Evangeline. And while Colt was supposedly working on behalf of his Bumptown, Wright had been dragging his heels when it came to actually giving him something to do. Not anymore. After the near attack on Evangeline, Wright threw himself into the hunt with all the gusto and the single-minded focus of a predatory shifter.

Wright, it seemed, took Colt’s advice to heart. He couldn’t do anything to help Evangeline—since Maddox would tear out his throat if Wright even got near her, the mood he was in—the cop figured he could use his badge and his position on the task force to put an end to the killer vamps before they went after Evangeline a third time.

Barely twenty-four hours after her near miss, Wright called Colt and told him he was on the way to pick him up. With only one instruction—“You got a suit, Wolfe? Put it on”—and no other comment, Wright ended the call. True to his word, he pulled his car up in front of Colt’s house an hour later before honking the horn a couple of times.

Wright drove a two-seat, low-rider, shiny blue coupe. It was obviously his personal vehicle—he’d been driving the same one when he showed up in Wolf’s Creek last night—and that, coupled with the fancy suit he was wearing, had Colt having second thoughts.

Dodge seemed to be thinking along the same lines. As soon as they heard the honking, Dodge vanished from the living room, only to re-materialize on the front porch right as Colt walked outside. He waved at Wright, a shit-eating grin on his face as he called out, “Make sure to have him home by midnight!”

Between the setting sun and the undeniable truth that Dodge was fading even faster lately, Colt was betting that the cop didn’t see Dodge hovering in the open doorway. From the middle finger he held up over the roof of the coupe, he knew damn well that Wright had heard him.

The ghost’s laugh echoed as Colt opened the door and slid onto the passenger seat.

His hand resting easily on the steering wheel, Wright turned in his seat to give Colt a once-over. When he was done, he nodded to himself, then said, “Lose the tie. The jacket’s good, pants, too, but you won’t need a tie. Maybe even pop the collar a bit. We’re not going to a funeral, Wolfe.”