Page 2 of Cage Me

Natalia was the first person I extended a sliver of trust to in Crossroads. Not because I wanted to, but I needed her. Though, I’d made sure she believed it was her who needed me more, while also keeping watch long enough to get information I needed in case things go sideways.

The witch gets a vial of my shifter blood every week for as long as I’m here, and I get whatever I ask for, without question. If she tells a single soul what she’s learned by playing with my blood, then I’ll kill her. No second chances.

And there’s little doubt that I’d know the moment she did because like I’ve learned and witnessed, powerful magic is too damned tempting for most. No matter if I’m in one of the Houses or if I’m in No Man’s Land, supernaturals are greedy. If too many people find out what I am, I’ll be hunted. At least, according to my mother, a wolf shifter with her own unique trait of foresight that has proven accurate on numerous occasions, allowing me to heed her warnings throughout my life without hesitation.

When I withhold my wrist from the witch, she sighs heavily. “Am I not allowed to be curious if this is the last donation you’ll be making? This isn’t about the money or your secrets. I’m making lifesaving spells with your blood.”

This isn’t the first time she’s mentioned that—the families who have benefited from Natalia’s enhanced cloaking potions thanks to my blood—but that’s not my concern. At least, I try to tell myself so.

As much as I’ve tried to become the hardened supernatural I prefer to portray, knowing the difference I’m making by being here has also attributed to my longer-than-planned stay in Crossroads. Still, I like to keep the upper hand and don’t show the witch that.

“No questions, Natalia,” I warn her, then hold out my wrist. “Take the blood, hand over the magic coin, and pretend you never saw me.”

“Right,” she murmurs as her lithe fingers reach for me, wrapping around my forearm. The cool touch of her olive skin sends a shiver through me, the same as always.

The intensity of her power is why I came to her in the first place. From what I sense, the witch could possibly decimate the entirety of Crossroads. Yet, she chooses to run her little shop, helping even those who can’t necessarily pay, only asking them to remember this favor of hers.

With as many favors as she’s collected, the House leaders should be careful. Especially those now poking their noses around our little city that’s supposed to be for those Houseless.

Regardless of all I’ve witnessed, I’ve remained distant, knowing that my life isn’t just about me. I have my own people to save, but I’m not quite ready yet.

In another month or two, I should have enough magic to trade and build a home in the middle of nowhere, and enough cloaking spells to keep it hidden for generations. More importantly, the right kind of power to get my mother and brother the hell away from my abusive, manipulative, and all-around piece-of-shit father without leaving a trace of my temporary return to Fire and Fluorite.

Natalia twists my arm and uses her sharp black nail to cut cleanly across my wrist. When blood starts to pool on top of my fair skin, she uses magic to guide the crimson into the waiting vial.

I watch closely and yank my arm away just as soon as she has enough.

“You know, I could heal that if you’d allow,” she says, corking the container before slipping it into the pocket of her long grey sweater.

“I’ll be fine,” I say gruffly. My wolf shifter genes will take care of the incision soon enough.

“So you keep telling me,” she muses. “Still living in your shed at Kasha’s house?”

Kasha, my would-be roommate. The fae and wolf shifter hybrid offered me a room to stay in when she heard about me from Natalia, but I declined. Sort of.

Knowing that I needed somewhere to stay, I at least showed up at her house and told her I would be fine in the rickety shack in her backyard.

She’d thought I was joking at first, but for nearly three months now, I’ve been sleeping there, perfectly content to maintain my distance.

I don’t answer Natalia’s question. Not even when she reaches into her other pocket and slides the gold coin imbued with magic across the counter, smiling. “Have a good day, Spencer.”

Without returning the gesture or offering my thanks, I grab my trade and head for the front door. My gaze flicks upward, glaring at the red-and-black songbird perched outside her wooden house that hangs above the door.

Moving my attention to the exit, I shove it open and quickly slip out, only catching the annoying tune for the few seconds it takes the door to close behind me.

Without lingering, my steps increase, and I turn left instead of right toward my temporary home. A mistake I realize too late when Corvin Blackwell, the half-fae and half-gargoyle shifter, steps into my path.

His steel-blue eyes glance down at me as he smiles. “Spencer.”

“Corvin.”

I shove past him, but he’s quick to jump back into my path, blocking me once again.

My responding snarl has him at least stepping back. Guilt gnaws at me for being such a bitch, but what he’s been offering me these few weeks…it’s not the life I can ever have.

Yet, he hasn’t given up on me. Though, I don’t know why. Even my warning growl doesn’t stop him from asking the question I’ve already heard many times before. “Have you given any more thought to joining me?”

With a sigh, I give him my full attention, taking in his black hair, tanned skin, and muscular build. Attractive, but not my type. Especially when our interactions have had more of a familial vibe than anything else. Plus, I’ve met his mate. Styx isn’t someone I’d want to piss off.

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