Page 43 of Teeth To Rip & Tear

“Really?”

I growled under my breath. “Are you this irritating to everyone you speak to?”

“I irritate you?” Wyatt bit back a laugh. “Or are you on edge?”

“Can’t it be both?” I exhaled a shaky breath. “Every time I’ve had a dead animal on my car, I’ve been parked outside of my store. My home has wards in place. My grandmother built them and reinforced them for years. The house is invisible to the Durrach and any other malicious creature. But my store? It’s on Palmer Street. It’s in the open. Vulnerable.”

“We don’t have to go.” Wyatt offered.

“I have to.” My teeth gnashed together. “I have a delivery today, and if I’m not there, the boxes will sit outside the store for anyone to take.”

“What about Melly? Your witch friend? Couldn’t she take your delivery in for you?” Wyatt asked. He turned to face me, giving me the full force of his attention, and suddenly the car felt too small. Wyatt hadn’t struck me as a serious person, so I didn’t understand the interrogation.

I didn’t want to admit that I didn’t trust Melly Parish at that moment. She’d forgotten my herbs twice, and though it could have been due to her advanced age, Melly was quick as a whip.

I was Sídhe, so I could not lie. I did have a delivery to take in—but that wasn’t everything.

I needed to get to the herbs in my staff room. I needed to make sure I was protected.

I’d already gone too long between doses, and Dean had sensed it, though I wasn’t sure he knew exactly what it had meant.

As I grew closer to the wolves, I couldn’t stop the sour feeling that crept up whenever I lied through misdirection, even if my words were true enough.

I waited for the puzzle pieces to fall into place and for the wolves to realize that I was not to be trusted. That I was a threat to their master.

We parked outside the store, finding a space in front of the cameras for all the good they had done previously. Wyatt stood guard as I unlocked the door, holding out a hand and asking me to wait.

“In the open?” Incredulity hitched my voice. “I’m not staying out here. Joel could shoot me. I can see the station from here. It’s too risky.”

Wyatt pushed his russet hair away from his face, his eyes flashing in irritation before he forced a smile on his lips. “Keep behind me. Do not leave my side. Do not make a sound.”

I mimed zipping my lips as we crept into the store. I winced as the bell over the door twinkled, and Wyatt glared at the sound as if I were personally responsible.

The main floor was still. No hidden attackers or spells clinging to the air. In fact, the residual magic that swirled through the space, clinging to the displays I had knitted myself, and the magic that Melly dragged in with her had all but disappeared. The space was barren of magic, save for the golden whisps that clung to Wyatt’s skin—wolf magic.

“The staff room and office.” I waved to the door behind the register, turned on the lights, and placed my purse on the counter, waiting for Wyatt to tell me what to do next.

“I’ll check it out.” He grumbled, sliding past me in the tight space. He was taller than I was, though not as bulky as Dean. Wyatt had long limbs, undeniably sensuous with every movement. When he caught the sharp inhale as he brushed against my back, he grinned, waggling his brows.

I quickly realized why Wyatt had become annoyed with me. He was a flirt, and I hadn’t fallen over my feet to appease him.

I’d have to do better to tame my libido. It seemed I had a thing for wolves, which would only lead to trouble.

“Mallory?” Wyatt called out from the office. “You should see this.”

My heart rose to my throat. “What?”

“You should see this.” He repeated.

I grabbed my bag, holding it in front of my stomach like a shield, as I crept to the still-open door to the office. Wyatt stood in the doorway, blocking my view. He stepped to the side when he sensed my presence behind him, revealing the single body hanging from the light switch. He wore the same clothes when he’d come to my home, holding a gun. I’d washed and dried that ‘Dave Matthew Band’ t-shirt more times than I could count. His eyes were closed, and his face was purple and distorted, but I’d know my ex-husband anywhere.

I raced to the trash can, upending my breakfast.

“I’m guessing you know this guy?” Wyatt’s lips twisted in displeasure.

My response was to retch until there was nothing left but bile.

My grandmother’s face was obscured by shadows.

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