Page 18 of Magic's Rise

“Darn it.” I push the mask to the top of my head. “Foiled by genetics yet again.”

“They get you every time.” He sweeps a hand over his scruffy cheeks. “So, why the disguise?”

“Don’t you ever want to just blend in?” I rise onto my tiptoes, but my head doesn’t even reach the center of his chest. “It must be hard for you to disappear in a crowd.”

“Never really tried.” Gaze contemplative, he studies me. “Is it difficult being so well known in Hartford Cove?”

I glance around and spot a few people staring at us. “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s a small town, and they’re not exactly trusting of outsiders.”

Those who were staring look away, though I doubt they’ve stopped listening. Wolf shifter super-hearing is so unfair.

“Outsider?” Confusion fills Levi’s voice. “Isn’t this the home of the Wendall family?”

“You’re probably thinking of my grandma. She’s the great Wendall witch.” I waggle my eyebrows at him. “Want to see the graveyard?”

His head cocks to the side. “Sure?”

“Come on.” Since we’re already heading in that direction, I grab his sleeve and tug him through the crowd.

We pass the tent at the town’s center, which I avoid looking at, and we cross the street to the sheriff’s station.

Deputy Arden’s SUV sits in the small parking lot out front, so I lead Levi directly to the back. No reason to cause another werewolf confrontation.

We stop at the gate, and I point up at it. “Make use of your height and undo that latch. It’s a pain to climb.”

He reaches over the top and easily opens the gate. “Have much experience with that?”

“Just a little.” Taking the lead once more, I head to the back of the sheriff’s station.

The graveyard comes into view, and I sweep my arms out. “Ta-da! The family plot of the Wendall witches, which is weirdly placed between the law office and the historical society.”

Levi’s steps slow as he takes in the grim display. Flowers provide bright pops of color, but there’s no disguising the headstones. They vary in height, the ones at the back showing signs of weathering despite Haut’s efforts to keep the small graveyard clean and the stones free of moss.

I walk over to one and rest a hand against it. “This is my grandma, Charlene Wendall. She’s the Wendall witch that everyone talks so nicely about.”

Head bowing, he removes his hat in a show of respect.

I move to the next headstone and run my hand over the smooth surface, though it’s older than my grandma by fifteen years. “And this is my mom, Rosaline Wendall.”

He dips his head toward my mother’s grave. “I’m sorry to hear of her passing. You must have been so young when she died.”

“Oh, she didn’t die. She was murdered. By a werewolf.” I meet his startled gaze. “The same one who cursed my mate, Owen, and Deputy Arden.” I gesture in the direction of the sheriff station. “You probably shouldn’t go in there.”

Expression turning cautious, he takes a step away from the back door. “Understood.”

I move to the last headstone in the graveyard, where some misguided person had carved the name Rowe Wendall. “And then there’s my grave.”

Levi’s eyes snap back to me. “What?”

Leaning down, I brush the dirt away from my birth and death dates. “You see, I died in Hartford Cove once. On the same day as my mother. Or so the story goes. I’ve only been back among the living for less than a year, and only training in magic for the last two months.”

I straighten and wipe my palms on my thighs. “As you can see, I’m not the great and powerful witch you came searching for. This town has already dealt with the fear of my line ending when my grandma passed away. They won’t be eager to see the end of it again if I leave and something happens to me. My mates don’t think your Silver Hollow is worth the risk.”

His hands tighten on his hat. “That may be the case, but the stories I’ve heard recently are about you, Rowe. So, I’m still asking for your help.”

“Okay.” I perch on my headstone and cross my ankles. “Then tell me, Levi, what are you willing to give in exchange?”

WHAT A ROWE WANTS

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