Page 58 of Predator

“It’s a Luna-touched thing.”

Lucas’s head snaps toward Jeannie again. “You’re Luna-touched?”

“Yup. And you’re the cursed Alpha.” Jeannie looks him up and down, but before I can growl at her for ogling my naked mate, she dismisses him just as quickly. “Well, not cursed anymore. Congrats.”

Now I feel bad. I should’ve known better than to expect the worst when it comes to Jeannie Lipton. This is the woman—she-wolf—whatever who came to me when my human boyfriend tried to hit on her. Lucas is mine so there’s no way she’d be interested—especially since she’s a wolf, too, and has to understand how significant a mate bond is.

I don’t understand what Luna-touched is or why that seems so significant to Lucas, but considering the moon goddess turned Jeannie into an avatar upstairs, that has to have something to do with it.

There’s no time to explain, though—and even less than I thought when it’s Jade’s turn to growl, and the rest of us turn in time to see a pair of witches have stepped out from the back entrance of the coven house.

I recognize one instantly. Armand looks even older than the last time we met, though that might have more to do with the deferential slouch to his shoulders as he approaches.

The other witch is also a male. He has a head of thick, dark brown hair, eyes a couple of shades lighter, and a scowl as dark as Lucas’s. A bean pole of a guy, he tops Armand by a good six inches, and he’s at least twenty years younger.

Lucas moves in front of me. Only the unfamiliar witch seems bothered by Lucas’s nudity, but he doesn’t do anything other than frown and glance away.

My mate focuses on Armand. “What do you want?”

“Claude and I have come to speak to Madame.”

CHAPTER 17

RUN

Oh. Shit. Does he not know… I mean, I thought everyone would’ve known by now. It’s part of the reason I wanted to grab Lucas and Jeannie and get the hell away from witch territory before they decided to retaliate.

I don’t get the chance to explain myself. Of course not.

Know why?

Jeannie freaking Lipton.

She snorts. “Sorry. Ding dong, buddy. The wicked witch is dead.”

I close my eyes for a second. Thank you, Jeannie. Because I wasn’t already worrying about the witch’s reaction to me going all killer in there. Now you just want to make this whole situation worse.

And how the hell does she know? Remy seemed to guess what happened to Marie, but I never confessed to anything in front of them.

Blood, I think. As a witch, Remy couldn’t scent Marie’s blood on me—but Jeannie probably can, just like Lucas did just now.

As I sigh in resignation, Lucas glances over his shoulder at me. One look is all it takes for him to know that Jeannie isn’t exaggerating—and that I’m responsible for Marie’s fate.

His expression doesn’t change, though he sends a surge of assurance down our bond. Without a word, he’s letting me know that he’ll continue to protect me, and that if I had to kill Marie, he’s sure I had a good reason.

I hope he’s right.

And then the younger witch—Claude—surges forward. A trio of wolves—a quartet if you include me—all make warning sounds in the back of their throat as Jeannie yawns.

Armand holds out his arm. Claude stops, but his expression turns murderous.

“Don’t you talk about Madame Bordeaux like that. She sacrificed her own life to make sure that the coven had the leader she chose.”

Sacrificed…

Side-stepping Lucas, I move toward the two men. Behind me, my mate follows me closely, hands settling on my bare shoulders. I can feel the heat of his naked body through the material of my tank top, and while that’s usually one hell of a distraction, I purposely turn my attention to Armand and the other witch.

“What do you mean by that?”

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