Defensive Magic: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy Tale (Lost Library Book 3) (4 page)

“Okay—how about a different question? How can you expect to maintain a positive relationship with a man who clearly adores you and thinks of you as his father when you won’t accept his mate? We have to find some way to be, at least, civil with one another.”

She was proud of her response. Falling in love had given her that tiny push that she’d apparently needed to be more assertive. She could stand up for herself and for the people she loved—when it was the right thing to do. Before she would have avoided this entire conversation and drowned any conflict in polite platitudes. Those were the days, she thought with longing.

“Civility would be easier if you were Lycan, or at least had a passing familiarity with our culture. Not to mention the strength, speed, healing—do I need to go on?” But he didn’t let her answer. “You’ve also risked John’s life pursuing your own agenda, and haven’t given the Pack even the barest of consideration since John named you Alpha Mate.”

She frowned. “It’s not that simple.” She eyed him suspiciously and considered how much to tell him. “I think you know that. Without delving into some very personal matters, I came to Smithville—to meet the Pack as John’s mate—as soon as I reasonably could. Whether you believe that or not, it’s the truth.”

She didn’t want to discuss the danger she’d put John in—because she had been responsible. Not solely responsible, but certainly she added to the recent drama in his life. And she hated that. But she’d be damned if she’d drudge up her feelings of guilt for this cranky old fart to poke and prod at. That was between her and John.

“You hold an important position within the Pack, and it appears as though we’re not a priority for you. As the Alpha’s Mate, that’s unacceptable. Dangerous, even.” After a hesitation, he clarified, “For John, for the Pack—and for you.”

“If you’re implying that the attack on—”

Logan cut her off sharply. “The challenge. Not an attack, a challenge. I’m not implying; I’m telling you that your actions have weakened the Pack and left us—left John—vulnerable.”

“Bullshit,” she said baldly.

Logan stilled, waiting for her to explain herself. The more this guy pissed her off, the easier it was to speak her mind. And at least he wasn’t roaring obscenities at her.

“You say I know nothing of Lycan culture and history? That’s not entirely true. I’ve been learning.” She tried to gauge his response but couldn’t get a good read off him, so she barreled ahead. “You were Alpha before John?”

“Everyone knows that.”

She ignored his disdainful tone and said, “And the transition between you and John went smoothly?”

Logan nodded, clearly impatient. “You know it did.”

“What I also know is that John’s tenure as Alpha has been relatively peaceful. And that the Council has been active for over a decade.”

“Your point?”

Lizzie couldn’t believe she was the only one to notice these oddities. By all accounts, Logan had been a competent and respected leader.

“Stability, that’s my point. You and John both have created an environment of stability and safety for the Pack. And you believe that a few weeks with their Alpha away, a few weeks with his focus on something else, and the Pack is suddenly vulnerable? That other packs perceive Texas as weak, because John’s been gone a few weeks?” She shook her head. “I don’t see it. Something else is happening. John’s absence alone couldn’t have resulted in the ripples of discontent that are floating through the Pack. And the only reason John can’t see it himself is the guilt he feels over giving his own life priority for a very short time.”

She sure as hell hoped Logan understood that she partially blamed him for that. John needed to think of himself every once in a great while—but until recently he had always placed the Pack first. They damn well could give the guy some slack after a decade of service as their leader. It’s not like he was some despot who reaped all the benefits of his position. He worked hard to make everything run smoothly. More importantly, to make the Pack better for all its members. Crap. She was working herself up, and she needed a calm head to deal with Logan. The ass.

Logan crossed his arms over his massive chest and leaned back in his chair. “Go on.”

Dammit. That was the problem. She knew something was up, but she had no solid evidence and no good ideas as to exactly what was happening.

“You’re the one with relevant information. I’m new, remember? What do
you
think is happening?”

“I think a more important question is who is directing this campaign.”

“I knew it,” she exclaimed. “I knew I couldn’t be the only one who saw the signs. Ha. I am not a whack job conspiracy theorist.”

Apparently she surprised Logan, because he let out a quick laugh before he could catch himself. “Is that what John’s been telling you?”

He grunted after seeing the look on her face. She was certain her guilt was plain to his eyes—and his nose. But his response was much more sympathetic than she would expect given the tone of the conversation thus far. “You haven’t said anything to John yet, have you?” He pursed his lips. “He knows about the rumors and the general unrest in the Pack. Max and I have both kept him informed while he’s been gone. And I’m sure he has other sources. But I don’t have any proof of a larger campaign.” He sighed. “I was reluctant to speculate without more evidence, but it’s past time to consider the option. Back to the original question—any thoughts on who’s driving this train wreck?”

She was suspicious of his sudden cooperation and wasn’t sure what to make of it. But she was milking it while she could. “Just to be clear here—we’re both talking about an organized effort, but what exactly do you suspect?”

“I think someone’s spreading rumors, providing encouragement to other packs to act against us, spreading dissent among allied packs. Generally creating an environment of distrust and competition among the packs.” He considered her a moment, then said, “You’re avoiding the question. Who?”

Peeved by his persistence, she said, “How should I know?”

But as soon as the words left her lips, it occurred to her that of course she knew. And so did Logan, or he wouldn’t have pushed the issue. An icky, scalp-crawling feeling washed over her. If it was Worth—the powerful spell caster mastermind behind a successful criminal enterprise and the closest she’d ever come to having a real-life nemesis—then the attacks on John and his Pack might be related to her in some way. The Texas Pack might have been targeted because of her.

“Hey, now.” Logan grabbed her shoulder and shook her. “Stop it.”

Lizzie blinked deliberately. Everything was moving a little slowly and she felt light-headed. And that was what happened when all the blood left a girl’s brain. When would that bastard Worth leave her and the people she loved alone? She wished she would quit being surprised when he popped up repeatedly. But that was her—ever hopeful. Except she wasn’t so hopeful that she didn’t want him dead.

She noticed Logan glaring at her. Then he said, “What the hell is wrong with you? You went all white.”

Really, you cranky old man?
And just when she thought he was warming up to her. Her blood must have started circulating normally again, because she could almost put together a coherent sentence. “Thanks for your concern.”

“I don’t want to have to explain your sudden, unexpected demise from mysterious causes.” Under the deadpan tone, she might have detected just a smidge of humor.

“Was that a tiny joke, Mr. Braxton?” Lizzie asked with false innocence.

The corners of his mouth moved just enough for Lizzie to imagine a smile before he spoke. “Probably not.”

When he spoke again, there wasn’t even a hint of humor. “You clearly have someone in mind. Worth, right?” he asked.

She huffed in annoyance. And really, it was important that she relegate Worth to the status of annoying buzzing insect, because if she thought of him as he was—frightening, powerful, vicious, single-minded… Dammit. She knew better than to give him that much power over her. Firmly, she reiterated, annoying insect. Tiny, buzzing, insignificant insect. “Of course. Who else would be screwing with my life and the lives of the people around me?”

She wasn’t fooling herself. Worth was scary. And there was a small part of her, a part she didn’t like, that wished Worth would just die. The thought had flashed quickly through her brain earlier. But now, now she took that thought and expanded it. Let it grow. She wanted him dead; it was a certainty she felt deep within herself. She didn’t like that part of herself, but she couldn’t deny its existence.

Logan tipped his chin down and sighed, almost like he was deflating. He spoke quietly, but firmly. “The Texas Pack has enemies all its own.”

“Whoever is at the root of this—Worth, one of the Pack’s enemies, or someone else—how do we find out who it is?” She was so tired. Tired of being in the middle of some major catastrophe. Tired of being responsible for the safety of so many people. She’d like one damn day off.

“We?” he asked.

She almost growled in frustration. “I thought we had reached some kind of agreement here. You think something’s up. I think something’s up. We both care about John and don’t want the Pack hurt.”

“Okay.
We
talk to John.”

That sounded like a small peace offering—with overtones of snark—but she’d take it. She nodded her agreement.

“One question—if this plot exists beyond our paranoid imaginations, then it’s a campaign of misinformation and misdirection. Does that sound like Worth?”

“I’m not sure.” She could feel an ache starting in her jaw. She massaged her jaw thinking about all the ways that this campaign didn’t sound like Worth. “He’s not been that subtle before. But if it’s not Worth…is the whole world lining us up in their sights?”

It was an overwhelming thought, the idea that it wasn’t about one man. Granted, one scary man with a network of hired thugs, very strong magic, and extensive resources—but still only one man. A sense of her own smallness washed over her. She was insignificant in a world of creatures with unknown powers. She pulled herself from her thoughts just in time to see a flash of disappointment cross Logan’s face. Who was he to judge her? She could feel her face flush—with embarrassment or anger, she wasn’t sure.

“I’m doing my best.” She knew she sounded defensive, but she couldn’t help it. “And quit that thing you guys do—smelling my emotions. It’s creepy and an invasion of my privacy.” Okay that came out…strong. Okay, rude.

Her regret lasted only as long as it took Logan to respond.

“Do better. Change the way you feel, because you can’t change the way you smell.”

She chewed on the inside of her lip in thought, and then she smiled. “I take that challenge.”

She thrust her hand out at him.

He eyed her like she’d just wandered away from the loony bin.

Her grin broadened. “Spell caster,” she reminded him. “Not human. And you have no idea what I can do.”

He actually laughed. “Are you sure you want to wager on that? If you can change the way you smell, you win?”

“Oh, yes. The stakes?”

“Does it really matter?” He suppressed his grin, but she could see just a hint of a dimple showing in his cheek.

She chuckled. “Kicking your butt in a wager is more than enough for me. But I’m sure we can negotiate terms that are agreeable to both parties.”

He nodded and clasped her hand firmly. It was the first time they’d ever touched. His hand was huge, engulfing hers. Warm, dry, calloused—and surprisingly reassuring.

His grip firmed slightly, prolonging the handshake, and he said, “There is something.” Letting her hand go, he said, “If I lose, will you check the book for information on an old friend?”

Lizzie reined in her curiosity, and nodded. “Of course.”

He had to know that he could just ask her. Wager or no, she’d gladly poke around in the pack book for him or anyone else in the Pack.

“Clara.” He smiled. “Her name was Clara. Thanks.”

Now, all she had to do was figure out that damn scent void trick. Temporary truce or not, she wasn’t letting this old coot get one up on her. As for Clara, she wasn’t waiting to win or to lose. Clara was now on her to-do list. Lost in speculation as to the identity of the mysterious Clara, she was surprised by the sound of John coming in the front door.

Chapter 6

“L
ogan. Lizzie.” John examined the pair critically. The air between them had cleared since this morning. They seemed almost friendly sitting across from one another at the kitchen table. He frowned. It was downright startling, the change between the two. Suspiciously so.

“How’d it go?” he prompted them. A fair enough question given the brief whiff of animosity he’d caught hanging in the air when he left them this morning.

Lizzie blinked innocently at him. He shook his head in amused disbelief. He turned to Logan.

“Don’t look at me. She’s the paranoid conspiracy theorist.”

He’d
thought
he wanted them to get along. No, he did, definitely. And whatever was going on, it was an improvement over their introduction this morning. But he hadn’t actually considered what a complete pain in his ass the two of them might be if they combined forces in pursuit of a shared goal.

Lizzie perked up at the accusation. “Not just me,” she said defensively. “We’re both convinced there’s a boogeyman behind the rumors. Someone standing on the sidelines waging some kind of smear campaign.” Turning to Logan, she said wryly, “And it’s hardly paranoid if they’re really after us. I’m sure you’ve heard that saying before.” She smiled sweetly at Logan.

Lizzie was generous and kindhearted, but John wouldn’t call her sweet. Was she daring Logan to contradict her? The dynamic between the two of them had certainly evolved.

Logan studiously ignored her comment, and she picked up where she’d left off. “We thought we’d save the plotting and planning part of the conversation until you got back.”

Her eyes were bright and her tone was cheerful. She seemed to be taking the Pack’s latest problem in stride.

He covered his smile easily enough, but he knew Logan could smell his amusement. “Thank you for that.” He dropped down into one of the kitchen chairs.