Entwined Enemies (6 page)

“So how
does
your magic work?” he asks lightheartedly.

The inevitable question, but there’s no time to answer it properly.

“I want to tell you all about it, but not now. Now we have other matters to worry about. Don’t be shocked by what you’re about to hear, okay? It may sound a little calculating and harsh, but I need to bring Candice and Saffron up to speed on everything that’s happened.”

“Sure,” he says, betraying only a little apprehension.

I take Mason by the hand and lead him out of the kitchen and into the living room, where Candice and Saffron have been patiently sitting, waiting for my report. I launch into it before anybody can get a word in edgewise.

“This is what I know. Trent has complete control over Sylvia. Long-term relationship of sixteen years. Dominant-submissive. Both are werewolves. He’s an old wolf who radiates power. Crimson eyes in human and wolf forms.

“Trent has at least two mature werewolves under his control. Don’t know their names. Baldy and Cropped Hair. Definitely his pack, possibly his bloodline. Very strong. Mason shifted, but they overwhelmed him without shifting themselves.

“Sylvia will protect Trent if you go after him. My recommendation is to subdue her first. Keep in mind that Mason feels what she feels, so a painless form of incapacitation. You can use magic directly on Sylvia, but not Trent or his minions.

“Discern What is True failed on Trent, but worked on Sylvia. Remove the Flesh didn’t work on his minions. I believe that attacking them directly with spells won’t work. Moreover, my spellcasting was hidden, so they don’t suspect I’m a witch. That gives us surprise.

“Trent wants me to paint forgeries to replace original works of art that Mason and Sylvia ship between clients and her parents. They’re expecting me to give them an answer. My plan is for Mason and I to go back there together.

“I’ll be contrite, make Trent feel like he’s won, that having Mason beaten to within an inch of his life worked. I’ll give him the impression that I’ve been dominated. He’ll like that. Will lower his guard. Then I’ll work that angle. That’s where you two come in. We’ll need a signal.”

I turn around to look at Mason.

He’s staring at me in a state of awe. His mouth is open, but no words come out.

“What? What is it?” I ask him.

He closes his mouth, gives his head a shake, and then finally composes his thoughts. “I didn’t think it was possible, but I’m even more attracted to you now. Your plan is so much better than mine earlier.”

Saffron turns to Candice. “You’re right. She
did
choose well.”

“We still need to figure out a signal,” Saffron adds, “but I have an idea about that. Jess, how quickly can you learn a new spell?”

“If it involves keeping Mason safe, then something tells me I’ll be able to learn it pretty quickly.”

Mason and I stand in front of Sylvia’s front door. I’m dressed exactly the same as before. Cut-off shorts with the same shirt, tied up again to expose my curvaceous waistline. I want to be disarming, and every edge counts right now, including distraction.

The plan is solid. Candice and Saffron are nearby, but out of sight and well beyond scent range. Candice is perhaps the most excited by the plan. Any opportunity to embrace the old ways sounds good to her.

She summoned the needed gear, almost as if it is never far away. Saffron, on the other hand, was ready to go immediately, prepared to face any threat. Mason and I know our parts, but something tells will be this will be the hardest on him. He needs to act deferential toward an enemy he already hates.

We look at each other without saying a word and find the strength that is there waiting for us, the pool of love we feel for each other.

It’s time. I squeeze his hand, take a deep breath, and walk up to the front door. Mason follows close behind.

Sylvia opens it before we even have a chance to knock. Her face is racked with guilt. She’s been crying.

“Mason. I’m so glad you’re all right. They told me what they did. I’m so sorry—”

Mason raises his hand. “You did what you thought you had to do. Now and sixteen years ago. What’s done is done. Let’s leave it at that for now.”

Sylvia nods demurely. That was surprising forgiving, but she is his twin. He really does have faith in his sister.

“Lead the way,” he tells her.

She does. I stay in front of Mason as Sylvia leads us through the house into the living room, a broad space that connects to the kitchen.

Trent is standing in the middle of the living room, red eyes ablaze with malice. Baldy and Cropped Hair are sitting on the couch, until they see Mason. Then they both leap to their feet.

“Back for more already?” Baldy snarls to Mason.

He wants to get a rise out of him, and it works. Mason growls behind me. I reach back and place my hand on his chest, but keep my eyes fixed on Trent.

“Can you keep your dog on his leash?” I ask him.

“Certainly. Your dog survived being crucified by silver spikes, after all,” Trent says, turning around to face Baldy. “Can you say the same?”

The bald werewolf scowls and looks away. Cropped Hair laughs at his partner. Sylvia walks over to Trent, head lowered, and stands a few steps behind him. Trent looks to Mason next.

“I’ve never been crucified by silver before,” he continues. “It’s comforting to know that a wolf of my bloodline can survive such an ordeal. Then again, I would never
let
myself be crucified in the first place.”

Trent shifts his crimson gaze back to me.

“Have you made a decision?”

“I’ll do the art, whatever it takes, just don’t hurt Mason again,” I say with only the slightest amount of desperation in my voice. I want him to think I’m putting on a brave face, but am otherwise obedient.

Trent smiles. He’s seen me stand up to him already and liked it, my brazen nature. I want it to seem like I’m willing to go along with his plan, but without
completely
surrendering. If his behavior toward Sylvia is any indication, he enjoys pluck more than subservience. Still, he should feel like he has me at a disadvantage.

“He means that much to you?” Trent asks.

“He does,” I answer quickly. “Mason is the only reason I’m willing to go along with your plan.”

Trent narrows his eyes.

“That’s all well and fine, but I need guarantees that you’re good for your word. People who work under duress, especially spirited people like yourself, tend to rebel. I can’t have that, so I’m going to need insurance.”

“You’ve implicated me in the forging of a painting. Isn’t that enough?” I ask him.

“No,” he says. “It’s not. If Mason is what you care about, then I need to keep him close by and within my reach. That way I know you’ll stay in line.”

Saffron and Candice anticipated as much. They thought Trent might leverage Mason to secure my loyalty.

“That wasn’t a part of the deal,” I say defiantly.

“It is now. This arrangement only works if Mason starts working with me, where I can kill him at any point if you try something stupid. His death is no imposition on me, but he may as well prove useful in the meanwhile. He needs to be shaped, after all. Turned into a shifter who can defend himself. A wolf worthy of my bloodline. Agree to this, and our deal will almost be sealed.”

I turn to Mason, who’s looking back and forth between all of the wolves in front of him. A deep growl rumbles out of his throat. I place a hand on his face and bring his gaze to me.

“I don’t like this any more than you do, but I don’t ever want to see you get hurt like that again. I know this is asking a lot, but if we want to stay together, this is the only way. Will you do this for me? Will you work with Trent?”

Mason reaches for my hand on his face.

“I’ll do whatever you ask of me, but I won’t abandon you to them.”

“That’s not entirely true,” the werewolf with cropped hair says. “You can’t help her if you’re dead.”

“But don’t worry,” Baldy adds, “she’ll be kept alive for a while. No point in killing what you haven’t enjoyed first.”

He laughs and sticks out his tongue. Mason makes eye contact with both werewolves in turn and then looks back at me.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if that means working with these two chuckleheads. I’ll kill for Trent and obey his orders. I’ll even let them brand me with that star.”

That strikes a note with Baldy.

“You have to
earn
this star, pup,” he says, pointing to the back of his neck. “Only lieutenants get imm—”

“Shut up, you idiot,” the Cropped Hair tells him.

Imm—
?
Imm— what
? Imparted with their brand? No, that doesn’t sound right. Immediate something? I don’t know.

“Both of you shut up,” Trent tells them in a voice that demands compliance.

I turn around to face the glare of his ruby eyes.

“You have your answer,” I tell him, “but if anything happens to Mason—”

“If anything happens to Mason, that’s on him, not me,” Trent says. “You will be bound to me either way. If Mason wants to stay alive, then he better not die. That’s up to him. He certainly won’t get any help from these two.”

Baldy and Cropped Hair actually chuckle when they hear that, living up to the name Mason gave them.

“So what about my guarantees?” I throw at Trent with disdain.

“Your guarantees? I guarantee not to kill you so long as you remain useful to me. Any other guarantees are even harder to earn than these tattoos.”

“You’re not really giving me a choice,” I say with an undercurrent of resignation.

“No I’m not.”

I stare at Trent and stay nothing. He holds my gaze.

“Fine. I accept,” I say with a hint of petulance.

Trent smiles when he hears that. He takes a deep breath before speaking.

“Kneel,” he bellows. The fixtures in the room actually sway a little.

Mason and I go down to one knee.

“Good. I like how quickly you did that,” Trent says.

He walks over to us. His two minions follow close behind. Sylvia doesn’t move, but I can see that’s she’s crying.

“We’re almost done,” Trent adds. “There’s just one more detail. You’re my property now, Jess, and as such, I reserve the right to mark you. Turn around.”

That was unexpected.

“Turn around?” I ask.

“Yes,” Trent says matter-of-factly, “without so much as Mason lifting a finger against me. Once I mark you, our deal is struck, but if Mason moves, even a little bit, my lieutenants will kill him where he stands. You already know they can. If he doesn’t move, you can keep seeing each other under my watch.”

Trent looks over at Mason.

“Consider this your first test of loyalty.”

Well, this is certainly one way to keep them all distracted.

“I assume this isn’t up for negotiation either?” I ask.

Trent shakes his head. I can feel the hackles on Mason go up.

The red-eyed werewolf has been calm and collected this whole time, but I can sense his arousal through the controlled expression on his face.

Baldy and Cropped Hair are less subtle about their excitement, so much the better. I want all eyes on me. I don’t know how far I need to take this, but the more preoccupied everybody is kept, the better.

I’ve seduced egotistical marks before. If anything, entitled men like Trent are the easiest to fool. It’s not that difficult. Simply submit to their will, but without making it too easy for them.

This thing is, I’ve never submitted to a man with a male audience before. It adds an entirely new component, which, oddly enough, I kind of don’t mind. Jess, you little tramp.

Well, there’s no going back now.

I turn around to face Mason. His face is flush with blood. His eyes are furious. The thought of Trent’s minions touching me was enough to almost make him run off on a vengeance-fueled rampage.

I can only imagine what he must be feeling now. This was unexpected for him too, after all. The only upside? His genuine rage makes our little pantomime that much more convincing.

“Take your shorts off,” Trent commands.

I reach for the waist of my shorts, undo the zipper slowly, and push them down to my ankles. No underwear.

“Now get on all fours,” Trent instructs me.

I silently mouth
I love you
to Mason and then fall to my hands and knees in full view of all three men behind me. Arching my back provocatively to bring my nethers up for their viewing.

“Gods, but you are a succulent creature,” Trent says, betraying his excitement for the first time.

I look back at him over my shoulder. “Don’t you have something to show
me
? Or is this going to be an admiration session?”

Trent doesn’t reply to my question, but undoes his belt, all the while maintaining eye contact with me. He’s undressing in front of everybody, but for him, we’re the only two people who exist right now.

Trent drops his trousers in front of us all, supremely confident in his endowment. I can see why after breaking eye contact with Trent to gawk at his member.

Trent springs out of his pants, curving upward to the ceiling, smooth and rigid. A well-machined pipe, mushroomed with blood, and pulsing with veins. He’s the size of Mason when he turns into a half-man, half-wolf, but Trent is still wholly human.

Dare I say it? His prick is magnificent, but that’s where this performance ends.

“
Prohibere Motus Corporis
.”

Stop Motion.

“What was that?” Trent asks.

“It’s a spell I learned just before coming here.”

“What? You’re a witch?” A malicious smile curls across his lips. “Well, isn’t that my good fortune. Not only are you a painter, but a spellcaster too. Your spells won’t work on me,
witch
.”

“Oh, I know. That spell wasn’t intended for you. This is.”

Trent is probably entitled enough to think I’m talking about my offered plumage for a split second… until all hells break loose.

Candice and Saffron have been tapped into the quicksilver pool this whole time. They can tell when I cast a spell. That was the signal we agreed on.