Page 7 of A Killer Crescent Valentine

Hugh chuffed a breath, the closest he got to a laugh in wolf form. I bent over his black, furry back to lay a big kiss on top of his head. “I love your snaggletooth, big guy.”

Dean barked a sharp sound I understood clearly. Miss Falcon, we came here for a reason. Can you please behave?

“I’ll be good,” I promised him, throwing my legs over Hugh’s back and sliding down to the grass. Ugh, I was saddle sore. And my bum was numb. Life was so unfair.

“They’re gone,” Slasher hissed, his crimson eyes bright with the hunt as he raced to my side, appearing in a blink.

I jumped, flattening a hand to my racing heart, but his words registered and I frowned. “We missed the Cupid? How? You were so fast!”

Slasher preened, a smile creasing his eyes and filling his cheeks. “I know! But the Cupid had a head start, my animal cracker.”

“There’s this,” Brannigan said, striding over to us with a white feather pinched between his forefinger and thumb. He glanced at me—and Edison. “Can you use it to track them?”

I shrugged. Fuck knows what I could do with my magic.

But Edison grinned slowly, a dangerous thing that gave me butterflies, magic already building around his fingertips. “You bet your cold, dead ass I can.”

CHAPTER 5

Iswung mine and Slasher’s linked hands between us as we walked through the woods, like we were out for a romantic stroll instead of hunting a killer.

“What are you getting me for Valentine’s Day?” I asked him, expecting panic to cross his face because he’d forgotten.

“Knives,” he answered instantly, his red eyes so soft when he glanced at me. His hair was frizzy and big, the run tangling it crazily, but I found even that endearing.

“No,” Hugh growled, turning to walk backwards so he could scowl at Slasher from in front of us. His face was set in Scary Mode. “I give knives, not you.”

“I had the idea first,” Slasher argued.

Dean laughed suddenly, rich and loud. And lovely. I’d killed just to hear that laugh.1

“You too, huh?” Brannigan asked, a smile creasing his eyes.

“I’m trying to concentrate,” Edison bit out, holding the feather in front of him as he led our ragtag band through the woods with his tracking spell.

My eyes were wide and filling with tears, my heart full to bursting. “You guys are all getting me knives?” I asked, choked.

“Some of us have ordered a custom dagger,” Dean said, grouchy now the amusement had worn off. “Thanks for stealing my thunder, guys.”

“No problem,” Slasher replied with a salute, his eyes dancing with bright happiness. “We must all be soulmates if we think so alike.”

“Or I’m obvious with my love of shiny, stabby things,” I countered, stroking my thumb over his knuckle.

“Still trying to concentrate,” Edison grumbled, stomping through underbrush as he led us up a slight incline. I could sense his irritation was only surface-level; deep down, he was apprehensive about finding the Cupid but there was excitement and happiness there, too. It was nice to spend time together as a family. I was glad I wasn’t the only one feeling it.2

“How far are we?” Dean asked, back in serious, Sexy Sir mode. I trailed my eyes down his back, lingering on his ass, and wondered if he’d growl if I ran and jumped on his back.

He turned slowly, giving me a warning look that only made me hornier. I bit my lip, giving him a sultry smile, and he faced forward in a rush.

Rebel 1 - 0 Dean.

“Not far,” Edison replied, scanning the tree tops. “But the magic isn’t pulling as hard as it was at first. It’s like the trace is fading.”

“And that means…” Hugh prompted, hurrying to catch up to my witch mate.

“Not sure.” Edison shrugged. “The killer could have their own magic, which complicates mine. Or the tracker’s trying to pull in two different directions, weakening itself in the process.”

“I love it when you talk magic,” I purred, brushing my soul against his. “You’re sexy when you’re smart.”

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