Mind Mates (Pull of the Moon Book 2) (15 page)

“Everyone has time for cookies, dear.” Gladys Louise sat on the sofa and patted the cushion next to her.

“Sit. Multitask.” Almira practically pushed Emma onto the couch and pinned her there by plopping the plate of iced cookies in her lap. “Ask your questions while eating.”

Emma raised both hands, a combination WTF and I-give-up. “How do you know I have questions?”

“Why else would you be here?” Gladys Louise chirped reasonably, thrusting a cold glass into one of Emma’s uplifted hands.

The Jamies’ idea of hospitality was vodka-laced lemonade, so hard it was bullet-proof, and Emma took a cautious sip. She was pleasantly surprised by a fruity mingling of green tea, tart lemon, sweet sugar, and a hint of mint. “This is
good.
”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Almira said dryly. “Now. You’re in town to help Gabriel get his sister out of jail.”

She shook her head vehemently. “I tried. I only got him into more trouble. Or actually, he got himself in trouble, but I wasn’t any help—”

“You’ll help him dear, don’t worry.” Nibbling a cookie, Gladys Louise smiled kindly at her.

“Well, maybe, but I’m really here about a book.” Emma snatched up a cookie with red sprinkles and took an incautious bite. Flavors raced around on her taste buds, butter, chocolate chip, brown sugar…and oddly enough, maple. The frosting seemed to be maple buttercream. And the cinnamon sprinkles were strangely salty…

She barely resisted the urge to spit out her mouthful as her little soldier taste buds executed a flawless retreat. “Um…” she spoke around the mass in her mouth, “…what are these red jimmies?”

“My own innovation,” Gladys Louise said brightly. “Everyone loves ’em, and everyone loves cookies, so I thought, why not combine the two?”

“Loves what?” Emma said, although she had a horrific notion of what might be coming.

“Bacon crumbles. Aren’t they divine?”

“Ahhh.” Pretending her throat was a garbage disposal, Emma forced a swallow then put her plate carefully down on the coffee table. “I need to find my father’s journal. It’s an heirloom, but my mother sold it by mistake.”

“By mistake, of course,” Almira said darkly.

“She needed the money.” Emma believed her mother had good intentions. “Then you have the journal? Or you know who has?”

“No, dear,” Gladys Louise said. “We don’t have it, and we don’t know who does.”

“Oh.” Disappointment sapped the strength from Emma’s body.

But before her shoulders could slump, Gladys Louise added, “Why not try Linda Blue for a divination?”

Emma’s heart leaped, then thump-thumped harder. Linda owned the Uncommon bookstore—where Gabriel was.

Goose bumps raised the hair on Emma’s arms, both excitement and anxiety. She hadn’t worked through all the implications of his actually wanting her. But if she was to ever find her father’s legacy, it seemed she was going to have to face the wizard prince again.

Whether she was ready or not.

Gabriel paced his magical workout room, wondering what the hell was going on outside. He and Pan had made it into the pocket dimension before the Enforcer caught sight of them, but they were now cut off from reality. He had no idea if Linda had managed to send Ryder packing or get herself jailed instead. “Auntie and the Enforcer” sounded too much like a sitcom gone horribly wrong.

Five minutes into the ordeal he’d tried to iris open the wormhole, but his familiar stopped him. “You want to walk into Ryder’s cocked wand? C’mon, I’ll take your mind off things.”

Pan touched a couple talismans on the wall. Instantly both of them were barefoot and bare-chested in karate pants, their clothes neatly folded in a corner. A moment later the familiar came at him with a flurry of kicks and punches.

Defending himself kept Gabriel from worrying for maybe fifteen minutes. The panther familiar was too calm for Gabriel’s liking—and landed far too many punches.

“Are you sure that twit Ryder won’t do anything to Aunt Linda?” he said for the fuckteenth time, throwing a jab.

“Yes.” Pan blocked and threw an answering cross punch. “Unless he finds out she’s sleeping with her familiar.”

“
What?
” Gabriel’s hands fell completely away, leaving him wide open.

Pan buried a fist in Gabriel’s gut. “Unlikely, though.”

Gabriel managed to tighten his abdominals at the last moment, but his breath still came out in a whoosh.

Pan went on conversationally, “After all, she and Goodwin have kept it secret even from their nearest and dearest for nearly fifty years.”

“Goodwin?” Gabriel threw a front kick, landing forward because Pan had danced out of range.

“The familiar you so endearingly refer to as Mr. Kibbles? Not that I recommend any witch get involved with his or her familiar. The Council tends to look unfavorably on such things. And you and I—” Pan seared him with a glare, “—are a no-fucking-way-ever.”

“I never even considered…you and I aside, so what?” Gabriel came after Pan with a combination of kicks, front, roundhouse, land/pivot back kick, landing in a fully covered position. He noted at least one blow hit; Pan sported a red mark on his naked chest, which the familiar’s metabolism healed almost immediately. “Shifter/witch, that’s a problem because an insane dual would have powers to wipe out the world. But familiars aren’t magic like shifters, and they don’t manipulate magic like witches. What does the Council think could possibly happen with the child of a witch and her familiar?”

“Duals come in all forms, Gabriel. Shifter/witch is only the most obvious.” Pan came at him with his own combination of kicks.

Gabriel skipped back, barely avoiding the familiar’s strong, fast legs. “But without power—”

“Fuck power.” Pan leaped past Gabriel’s guard to plow a foot into his middle, folding him in two. “Imagine a witch with the wisdom of ages
born in.
Someone who, in the heat of rage, doesn’t have to consult with his familiar but knows exactly how to wipe out the world?”

“Ouch. Okay, I get it.” Bent over and panting from the bolts of pain radiating from that kick, Gabriel T-ed his hands, indicating a time-out. “Ryder must be gone by now. Can’t we leave?”

“It was exactly this impatience that got you in trouble in the first place,” Pan chided him. “And remind me—why did you need
my
charm to open your workout bubble?
Where
did you leave your belt of talismans again?”

“Fine.” With a humph, Gabriel tried to straighten. It was hard, not simply because the panther had gotten in a solid kick. Impatience churned in Gabriel’s gut, ate at it. He wanted to believe it was simple need to make sure Linda, the mother of his heart, was all right.

But honestly, that was only part of it. He knew Auntie would flit and flutter and generally behave like she hadn’t a brain in her head—and would shrewdly and perfectly assess Ryder and wrap him around her little finger like a thread to its spindle. She was, after all, an exceedingly accomplished textile witch.

No, what really ate his concentration was that he wanted to see Emma. Explain to her. Make things right. He didn’t like how they’d left it between them.

He compounded his problems by taking his frustration out on his familiar. He snarled at Pan, “So I’m impatient. A lot of time has elapsed. Can’t we leave
now?
”

“Bite me. You’re like a kid on vacation in the back of the van. Fine, fine.” Pan waved conciliatory hands when Gabriel’s fists came up for business. “Your aunt has probably whisked the troublemaker away. You want to shower first—?”

“Later.” Gabriel knew he looked and smelled like a freshly manured field, but
Emma might have returned
…he wasn’t about to wait. He clapped his hands and held them out in receiver position.

Pan extracted the silver talisman from a pocket in his folded clothes and tossed it.

Gabriel snatched the talisman out of the air and activated it with a pulse of power, the barest drop the ankle limiter allowed him. The doorway irised open.

Pan scowled as he scooped up the rest of their clothes. “You’ve got at most two more uses before you’ll need to recharge that.”

“After I get rid of this ball and chain.” Gabriel wiggled his weighted ankle as he stepped through—and stopped. Pan plowed into his back.

His naked back. Being half-dressed wouldn’t have been a problem if it had only been his aunt facing them. It might have even been fun if had it been Emma facing them. But instead…

Mrs. Santa Claus stared at them, slack-jawed, eyes like plates.

The Fudge Shoppe Lady,
his dazed brain supplied. Not actually Mrs. Santa, but the sweet little grandmotherly woman, owner of the town’s candy store, played the role every year in the Matinsfield holiday parade.

“It’s magic,” she breathed.

He glanced back. As luck would have it, his familiar had originally triggered the portal right in front of Auntie’s freestanding Snow White mirror.

It looked like he and Pan were stepping out of a fairytale.

Gabriel cleared his throat. “I can explain—”

“The mirror! It really does grant wishes.” The Fudge Shoppe Lady waved a magazine labeled
Menage Quarterly.
She dropped her magazine—falling open to a centerfold that seemed to be a tangle of arms and legs and plunging gentlemen’s parts—and spread her arms. “Come to mama, boys.”

Chapter Fourteen

Emma took a deep breath and pushed open the door of the Uncommon Night Owl Bookstore.

Only to meet the Fudge Shoppe Lady being hustled out by a man with thick auburn hair frosted at the temples and green, oddly cat-like eyes. “Thank you for stopping by. Come again soon!”

He urged the lady out with one hand while snaring Emma’s wrist with the other. Yanking her inside, he slammed the door, quickly locked it, and heaved a dignified but definitely relieved sigh.

Emma found herself in a cheery cluttered shop filled with books, love—and an argument.

“Why did you let a customer into the store?” Gabriel stood behind the register to her right, his tense back to her, shirt and vest askew as if hastily donned. “You knew we were going to have to come out soon.”

“Actually, I thought you’d show good sense and stay hidden,” a woman returned tartly. Emma recognized Linda Blue’s voice, though only her waving hand, rattling with antique bracelets, was visible behind Gabriel’s big body. “At least until I sorted things out on this side.”

“Yeah, well, she nearly ate us up. If Mr. Kibbles hadn’t dragged her away, I don’t know what she’d have done.”

“It was that idiot Enforcer,” Linda retorted. “Once inside, he wasn’t going to leave. Having a customer in the store helped him change his mind. So I phoned her—”

“You
called
her
deliberately?
The woman is nuts! She tried to…” He waved in the direction of his groin.

The auburn-haired man cleared his throat. “We have company.”

Linda Blue’s head poked out from behind Gabriel’s mass. A delighted smile plumped her apple-cheeked face as she bustled out. “You must be Emma. I’m Gabriel’s Aunt Linda.”

“Owner of this bookstore, I know. A lot of the library books I borrowed were donated by your store. Pleased to meet you.” Emma held out a hand as the round woman approached. Though she was in a hurry to find her father’s journal, it was always good to be polite to a witch.

Eyes twinkling, Linda took Emma’s hand. But instead of shaking, she used it to pull her in for a smothering hug.

“Auntie, let her breathe.” Gabriel’s voice was muffled.

“Of course, dear.” Linda released her.

Gasping, Emma tottered until Gabriel’s big hand found her back and began to make warm circles. It steadied her. Slowly her gaze rose to his.

His star-shot eyes were filled with compassion and something that looked like hope. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Maybe just now.
She fell into his gaze.

A throat cleared. From across the room came Pan’s voice, sounding amused. “What was she looking for?”

Blushing, she stepped back. The assistant manager sat on a couch in a large carpeted section center-store, a tome as big as a dog on his lap. She said, “I went to get my father’s journal, but it’s missing. I’m searching for any clue to its whereabouts.”

Pan raised a brow at her. “You should be looking for a change of clothes. Get her something that fits, Gabriel.” He switched his golden gaze to the big witch, snapping orders as if he were the manager instead of the assistant.

Gabriel winced. “Aunt Linda, would you do the honors?”

“Of course, dear.” She waggled her fingers at Emma. “Zip, zip, fizz, fizz, oh what a relief it is!” On
is,
she stiffened her fingers into a fan of digits poked straight at Emma.

The weight of canvas lifted, Emma’s spirits with it, and she was in jeans and T-shirt with slim athletic shoes on her feet.

Gabriel said dryly, “Watching old commercials on YouTube again, Aunt Linda?”

“A treasure trove of good, short rhymes. Better, dear?”

“Much,” Emma said. “Look, I don’t mean to rush anyone, but I’m in kind of a hurry—”

“Haste begets errors. My name is Goodwin, by the way.” The older gentleman shook her hand, then gestured toward the arrangement of chairs and sofas on their big Aladdin carpet. “Shall we sit?” Taking Linda’s elbow, he steered the witch toward a plump sofa. The closeness between the two made Emma wonder if Goodwin was Linda’s familiar.

“You do look pale,” Gabriel said softly to Emma. “Sit, let us help. Okay?”

She needed to get out of town before Edge sold her, but somehow, simply being near Gabriel’s bulwark of a body made her feel safe. Protected. “Well…okay.”

He rewarded her with his gentle smile. “Good.”

As he moved to follow his aunt, he seemed to unconsciously snare Emma’s hand.

Her fingers having already automatically reached for his.

Their hands met. She burrowed fingers into his strong, reassuring clasp. It felt natural.

She walked with him hand in hand, realizing only after the fact that the we’ve-always-done-it-this-way feel in fact was quite
un
natural. Never mind that he was attracted to her but suppressed it; this was a wizard prince to her iota wolf, boss to her employee, her superior in so many ways, including his towering height.

Leaning down, he murmured, “Did going home clear your head?”

But they were also friends. Her heart warmed. She gave him a rueful smile. “Only made it worse, actually.”

“I’m sorry.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze.

A yawn fought its way out her mouth. She covered it, realizing suddenly she’d been up since yesterday, with only a brief nap on the ferry. “Sorry.”

He yawned too. “’Sall right. Catching, though.”

Another yawn rose in response to his. “It really is.” She stretched with it.

“So, dear.” Linda picked up a bag and extracted a mass of knotted yarn on a needle. She began flashing the needle in and out of the yarn, crocheting what looked like a baby bootie. “What were you and my nephew doing that he had to magic you clothes?” Her apple-cheeked smile suddenly looked a whole lot less innocent.

Emma froze mid-yawn, her entire face heating. What happened between her and Gabriel in the jail dimension seemed beautiful and right at the time, or at least instinctive. But now she looked at it from Linda’s perspective.

An iota wolf and a wizard prince? Gabriel’s aunt must think Emma the magical community’s equivalent of a gold-digger.

“Auntie. Mind your manners.” Warning laced Gabriel’s tone and, as if to prove both his aunt and Emma wrong, he dusted the sofa across from his aunt and Goodwin then lowered Emma onto it like a princess. Sitting beside her, he reached for her hand, again seemingly without thought.

An idea teased at her, how to avoid Bruiser reclaiming her for his harem.
What if we—?

“We need to get Emma out of town,” Gabriel said. “That’s top priority.”

“Not top.” Emma shook her head. “I need to find my father’s journal—”

“We have bigger problems than finding some old book.” Pan turned a page.

“It’s not simply some old book to me,” Emma bristled.

“And you, Gabriel.” Linda’s expression tightened with worry, her needle jabbing faster in response. “You should hide too.”

“Not until Emma’s safe.” Gabriel’s jaw was set.

“The boy will go.” Goodwin patted her arm. “He, Pan, and Emma will be safe in a pocket dimension.”

“Leaving
Noah
to finesse his wife out of jail?” Pan’s sarcasm was acid. “That’s sure to go well.”

Goodwin flashed a glare at Pan. “I don’t hear you having a better idea,” he said, as Emma objected, “I have to find my journal.”

“That damned journal,” Pan growled. “It doesn’t matter—“

“But
Gabriel,
” Linda pleaded with glistening eyes. “You have to be safe.”

“Are you proud of yourselves?” Goodwin jabbed an accusing finger at them all. “You made her cry.”

“Oh, please,” Pan said. “Get over yourself.”

Goodwin leaned forward. “You
dare—
”

“
Enough.
” Gabriel’s roar was louder and more commanding than an alpha wolf. They all stared at him. Even Pan stopped turning pages. Gabriel went on in a calmer tone, “We’re not getting anywhere by arguing. We need to work together.”

“How do we do that, oh fearless leader?” Pan flipped a page. “We all have different agendas.”

“No, we have different priorities. We have the same agenda—free Sophia, placate Noah, help Emma, kick that little shit Enforcer in his big fat ego.”

“You forgot the prophecy.”

Emma remembered Noah saying something about a prophecy. “What’s that?”

Pan began, “A long-term puzzle—”

“Which means we can table it for now.” Gabriel glowered at Pan, wasted because the man’s dark head was buried in his book. “Here’s what we’ll do. Pan,
you
call Noah. Let him know about the latest hitch. Arrange for him to come here so we can talk. Then give the Choice Buy store a call. They’ll be open by now. Find out how they’re doing and see if someone can phone Carol for help.”

“Not Brandt,” Pan muttered.

“Hopefully we can get back home before things go too pear-shaped.”

The assistant manager shot Gabriel a golden stare from beneath black brows. “And while I’m doing all that, what will you be doing?”

“While we wait for you, we’ll have time to try to help Emma find her book.”

Emma’s spirits lifted. He’d taken her request seriously.

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Yes sir, Mr. Wizard Prince, sir.” Pan set down his book, unfolded from the couch, and ambled toward the front of the store to make his calls. Linda’s hook started flashing again as Goodwin settled back on the sofa.

Gabriel turned to Emma. “Tell us about the journal.”

“It was my father’s.” She explained about the heirloom, ending with, “The Misses suggested I ask Linda to try a divination to locate the journal.”

“Oh, dear.” The needle and bootie fell to the plump witch’s lap. “Divination isn’t very useful for finding things, only for telling their fate. Goodwin?” She exchanged a glance with her handsome companion.

“If we have a starting point, you can do a simple Locate Object.”

“Of course!” She beamed at him. “You’re always so brilliant.”

He gave her a soft smile in return. Emma realized this might not simply be
a
gentleman, he might be
Linda’s
gentleman.

“Starting point,” she said. “Well, the book was at my mother’s while I worked in Michigan.”

“That’s good,” Goodwin said. “Even better, magically speaking, would be a person associated with the journal.”

“My mother touched it last, but she probably wouldn’t cooperate in magic.” Besides, Edge might still be there, ready to grab Emma for Bruiser.

Gabriel’s aunt asked, “Who owns the journal?”

“It was my father’s. It’s mine, now. Or it was.” Emma deflated. “Before my mother sold it.”

“But you were the last official owner.” Linda’s hands fluttered like happy little birds. “I can use your blood for the spell.”

“Blood magic?” Gabriel’s hand tightened on Emma’s. “Absolutely not.”

“Only a few drops.” Linda set aside her crocheting and hefted herself to her feet, Goodwin helping her.

“But blood…that’s for complex finds. All we need is a ‘where’.”

“And all we have is a ‘who’,” Goodwin said. “Your aunt is counting on Emma’s blood tie to the book being enough to tell us where.”

Linda added, “Unless you want to try to coax Shalla’s cooperation, dear. But I don’t. The woman tried to zone out the yarn shop next door. Said it attracted the wrong type of people to town.”

“Knitters?” Emma asked.

“Cat lovers.” Goodwin sniffed.

“The bitch.” Pan’s voice came from the front of the store.

Gabriel staunchly shook his head, glasses flashing. “Blood magic is risky. I won’t let you do it. Either of you.”

Linda leaned in and touched his shoulder. “I’ll be careful, dear. If we want to find that journal, it’s our best chance.”

“Please, Gabriel?” Emma tightened her fingers around his in return, trying to communicate her deep need. “That book…it’s the only thing I have left of my dad’s. If I lost it without at least trying to find it, I’d never forgive myself.”

His mouth opened as if he’d argue. She pled wordlessly with her eyes. Mouth slowly closing, he sighed and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ll help however I can.”

“Thank you.” Emma’s heart swelled.

“Good.” Linda bustled to a side countertop where she began assembling items. Over an unlit tea candle, she placed a small pot in a stand.

“Shouldn’t we do this in the kitchen?” Rising, Gabriel glanced at the front door. “In case a mundane peeks in?”

“No need.” The apple-cheeked witch grinned over her shoulder, and Emma saw where her nephew had picked up the quick, bright expression. “
You
would have to pay a stiff fine. But this is a bookstore full of mysterious old tomes. I’ll say I’m simply doing a re-enactment.” She winked. “Pretend magic.”