The Carver's Magic (34 page)

Cort didn’t respond so I continued, “I will give you full reign of the house for as long as you want. And then, when you’re ready you can decide what you want to do about…” I pointed out the windows, “all of this.”

Cort’s chin raised, “I don’t need your help Carver.”

I smiled. Oh he was going to take my offer, I could see it in his eyes. I jumped off the bar and picked up a broken glass and turned it into chalk. On the door I wrote my address and then flipped the chalk back on the floor turning it back to glass.

The magic bothered him. I knew that, but…I’m working on being a better person. I’m not perfect.

* * *

Cort waited exactly twenty minutes before he left. Not that I blame him, after Clair snuck into the house and tried to sweet talk him into coming outside with her. But I don’t know that she deserved to be thrown out the front door like a bag of trash.

Dar didn’t say anything when Cort walked out. Instead, he held up a pair of keys to the truck he parked in front of the healer’s house. Cort grabbed the keys while he continued past the people who were all trying to talk to him or stop him from leaving.

Cort didn’t waste time to peel out and head to my house.

By day two my curiosity was killing me. I had to know if Cort was settling in to the house. I also wanted to know if he had demolished the place. Four hours of wearing down my Mate, and a promise to wear his favorite pink and black lingerie, we had a deal.

I teleport with Dar to my old house. The second we land in the entryway Cort came flying out of his bedroom with a gritty look.

What is wrong with him?
I wonder.

I look at Dar, he shrugs. I see something orange sitting on the couch. I lean back to get a better look around Dar. Some chick with chin length, bright orange hair, sitting on the couch with her hands in her lap. She is looking at me with calculating eyes. I walk to her, slowly taking in my own guess of who she might be. She isn’t the orange-eyed Carver. That was my first thought. Thankfully this chick seemed more, what’s the word, reserved.

Dar is on my heels. When I stop in front of her, I fold my arms, "Hi. Who are you?" I ask in clipped words.

Cort walks past Dar and stands to the far side of the living room. The chick’s eyes shifted, as if she was following Cort in her periphery. Her demeanor is stiff and she definitely doesn't like being cornered.

"I'm Theya," she says, in almost a whisper.

Dar sniffs and says, "What are you doing here, fairy?"

Fairy? How can you tell?
I ask Dar mentally.

Freckles, pale skin and smell.

The fairy was reserved but she didn’t look shaken up, which means Cort didn’t throw her out a door. That’s growth right?

Her smooth, sweet voice cut into my thoughts, "I kinda hitched a ride with Shane and his girl."

"Hitched a ride?" I ask, possibly letting a little fire into my voice. When the hell did this happen?

Theya straightened up and looked at me, "The girl is part fairy and Antrom extended an invitation for her to come and see the Fairy lands."

"I am well aware of her time there. But she failed to tell me about you, so you can see how I don’t believe you." And my hands are on my hips. Right. On. Schedule.

Cort snorts.

She’s not lying
.

Oh yeah, werewolves can smell lies. So then I refocus my questions, "You hitched a ride back with them? Why?"

Theya tensed, "It's personal," she says quietly, but firmly as if she is drawing a line in the sand.

"Try again fairy," Dar says, and I saw her shiver just as his vibes run over me as well. Interesting, did everyone feel his dominant vibes?

The fairy shakes her head, "It's personal." Then she looks at me in the same calculating way as she did earlier. Now she looks at Dar for a few seconds and lastly, Cort. It takes a few heartbeats before she nods her head. She says, "Okay." As if she has made a decision. The fairy walks around the couch and heads to the front door. The fairy pulls open the door, but I am right behind her. I slam the door shut in her face. I am not done with her. I need to know who she is and what she is doing here, and if she had planned to hurt Cory.

"Wait. If Cory brought you here, then I should at least give you the benefit of the doubt."

The fairy grabs the doorknob again and says in a cold, clipped tone, "It’s clear that you don’t want me here." The fairy pulled at the door, it didn't budge.

"How do you know Shane?" Dar asks with a weird look in his eyes, as if he were assessing her still.

Theya doesn't look at me, she shakes her head again, staring at the door. "There is nothing you could say that would motivate me to tell you anything."

Cort growls at her and I watched as she responds to him. Her shoulders stiffened and her breathing slowed. She turns to him and stares as if she is trying to win some dominance war that she is going to lose, because werewolves don’t back down. She doesn't look away for several moments. Inpatient, I am not about to stop Cort mid-fight with a fairy. "How about I take a few licks at that face of yours and see if that loosens your tongue?”

The fairy flinched. Maybe I hit a nerve. Maybe they don't like physical touch and I was about to give her a crash course in Carver fighting.

The fairy takes a few moments to answer, but she is still looking at Cort. "He used to sleep with my sister. I met him a few times between the front door and her room," she says bluntly.

Dar coughs and my jaw drops, "And after a few hello's he brings you back to my house and drops you off?" I asked because that sounds ridiculous that he would help out a sister of a chick he used to sleep with.

She finally turns to me and says, "He didn’t really care one way or another about me when he teleported me here."

Dar tilts his head, assessing her.

Theya eyed Dar and then she turned back to Cort quickly, and her eyes narrowed. "If you have nothing else, then I will take my leave," she said quickly, attempting to get the door open.

"Headed home?" Cort calls out to her in a tone that sounds like he is trying to bait her. Odd that this is probably the most civil I have ever seen him. He is getting off on this little fairy fight. Gross.

I see her turn and I know the ‘fuck off’ look she’s giving him. "No," she hisses lowly. She tries to pull the door open again and I keep my hand on the door, making it impossible to move while I am there.

"I don't think so, fairy. You stay until we talk to Shane and Cory," Dar put his body between the fairy and the door, and I teleport out.

I teleport to Shane’s door, a house that is as far as he could get from the pack. In fact, it is on the other side of the third mountain. I knock, as hard as I can, hoping to break it open, but I know it won’t work because he has more wards on his house than I have on mine. I start yelling until the door opens with a sight of Cory I never want to see again.

She is in a long sweater that is two sizes too big. It looks like a dress and I pray she had panties on underneath it. Her hair is a mess, she has hickeys all over he neck. Her cheeks are blushing, like bright red.

Shane pulls her away from the door and quietly says, "Meet me upstairs."

I cough. "I don't think so," I said, while putting my hand on both of them and teleporting them back to the old house.

As soon as we land at my old house I let go of them and regret my impulsive nature. Cory is not dressed for visitors. Dar coughs and Shane glares at me, making her sweater into a long sweater dress.

"Shane. Do you know her?" I pointed at the fairy.

He rolled his eyes when he looks at me, "Beth you really need to relax. Is Dar not doing his husbandly duties?" His words are heavily drenched in sarcasm, "Do wolves even consider themselves husbands?" Shane said absently to himself.

I hear Dar growl, which is bad because we don't need to fight right now. I get in his face again, "Why is she here?"

Shane looks behind me and I can see something in his eyes, even though I don't know what it means. After a few seconds he says, "I knew her sister. Theya also helped Dar remove his magical collar, although I assume he doesn’t remember any of that, do you?"

Dar is looking at the chick as if he was willing himself to remember.

Shane continues, "Fairies can't leave their lands without permission from the courts. And you can imagine how often they give permission. And even if they do get permission, they have to return shortly thereafter. As you know, they frown upon mixing their blood with others." He looks over at the fairy with an odd 'I told you so’ look. "Theya hated it there. And she just happened to be there when I was taking Cory away."

The fairy looks at me and oddly enough, she doesn't look so tense anymore.

I watch Shane for another second before asking, "Do you trust her?"

Without hesitation he answered, "Yes."

Do you think she will be safe here with Cort?
I ask Dar quickly.

He hasn't killed her yet and he hasn’t objected to her living here and by the way he treated Clair, I know he wouldn’t have any issue with voicing that opinion.

I tilt my head, annoyed that he made is sound like Cort is going to toy with the fairy as a predator would it’s prey.

Shane nodded once at Dar and then grabbed Cory, “Next time wait for an invitation Beth, which should be about…never.”

Dar was shaking his head when he held out his hand to me. He looked over to his brother to say something, but Cort huffed something on his way to the room on the bottom floor. Our guest room. Theya moved out of the way and walked back in the kitchen. The way she moved made me think that she was far too familiar with my house.

I didn’t like it.

Dar squeezed my hand a second time. Let’s go.

I teleported us out with the hope that my house remains in tact and Cort didn’t kill the fairy, because there was something in the way he looked at her that made me think she was probably in danger. The crazy part was, when she looked back at him, she wasn’t afraid. An explosive mix if there ever was one.

THE CARVER’S PROBLEM (BOOK 2)

EXCERPT

CORT

The smell of coffee wafts into my nose. I’ve been lying in this ridiculously uncomfortable bed of fluff most of the night, unable to sleep. I kick my feet off the bed and pull on a pair of black cutoff sweats.

The pixy just bought a new electronic coffee pot yesterday. In the kitchen, I pull a blue mug from the middle shelf and drink the contents of the pot. The very little I’m not able to drink, I pour out.

The orange-haired pixy hasn’t gotten it through her thick skull that she’s unwelcome. So everyday I try and find something to remind her that I don’t want her here.

If she hasn’t figured it out by tomorrow, I’m going for her shoes.

Her door opens and I can smell her lavender scent from where I’m standing. I set the mug down on the countertop and wait for her explosion. She’s going to be pissed and I am itching for a fight.

She rounds the kitchen and ignores me until she sees the coffee pot. Then she eyes me with frustration. I can feel the hair on my neck begin to prickle with anticipation.

The pixy taps the counter a few times, then begins to make a new pot. When it begins to drip, she folds her arms and keeps her back to the pot, as if she’s guarding it from me.

My wolf almost howls in amusement at her pitiful attempt to keep her coffee safe. The feeling is a little uncomfortable because this is the first time in probably ten years that he isn’t snarling at someone. That’s why I haven’t thrown her out the door yet. But I still don’t want her here, no matter if my wolf seems to be unaffected by her presence. It’s maddening to smell lavender all the time. And that’s what fairies smell like to me – lavender.

I watched the pixy tense at the same moment I smelled charred wood. Fire Carver. That’s what all fire Carvers smell like.

I turned my head and followed her gaze to the living room. Shane held his phone in the air, looking straight at the fairy next to me, “Why aren’t you answering my text?”
      

I look back at her and her eyebrows raise slightly, “My phone is upstairs.” Then she blew air out her cheeks and shook her head, “What do you want?”

Shane slid the phone into his front pocket, “I need you to watch Cory tonight. She’s not feeling well and I still don’t like leaving her alone.”

Now my eyebrows raise slightly. He sounds like a werewolf protecting his mate, but he’s a Carver and they don’t feel those kind of things.

The pixy fixed herself a cup, giving the Carver her back. Stirring in some sugar, she says, “If Cory agrees, I will
hang out
with her until you get home tonight, but I’m never going to
watch her
.”

He pulls his phone back out and starts texting. I keep my eyes on the Carver. My wolf is poised to attack if he so much as moves in my direction. I hate Carvers. Every last one of them could burn on a pitchfork and I would have no issue watching each of their fleshes bubble and fall off their body. I know Shane and Beth aren’t like the Carvers who kept me a slave for ten years, so I haven’t tried to kill them, but it’s not easy to keep my wolf at bay.

For ten years he was shackled inside me as my body was under a love spell. Isla Carver tricked me ten years ago and every second with her was hell. A living, tortuous, hell. The things she made me do, and the things I did to others, makes me want to shred my insides to ribbons. And if I wasn’t bad enough to do all those disgusting things we did together, she used her Carver magic so that she could use me to sniff out the supernatural.

As a wolf I could always smell the different species- human, wolf, fairy and witch. But after the spell, I can smell Carvers and their designation along with mixed bloods, half bloods, and all pure bloods from just one sniff.

I shivered and I think the pixy picked up on it because she stiffened a little. It hasn’t been that long since I woke up from that spell, and if she were smart she would have left by now, because my wolf may not mind her right now, but that doesn’t mean that he is going to be able to stop me if she ever triggered a flashback.