Page 111 of Enchanting Her Monsters
Maxum grunts, obviously distracted.
“What’s up?” I ask, stepping closer to grab his attention.
“I had time to think while being on watch.” He pauses his pacing to hover over me like the towering possessive male he is. “I don’t like that Rob found you so quickly. I’m worried about Galiana tracking you down. She will try to use you. Or if you no longer serve her plans, kill you. She’s far more powerful than he was, and she has stolen cubi power, too. Maybe most of herwitches don’t know what exactly she’s doing, but theyarewilling to die for the anti-supernatural cause.”
I rest my hands on his forearms and stare into his obsidian eyes. They flame with anger, and for the first time since I’ve known him, I see genuine fear behind them.
Fear for me.
“After eight hundred years of being alive, you should know that worrying doesn’t help,” I tell him.
“This is the first time I actually give a fuck about what happens in my life. If we lose you…” He swallows down his strangled voice and can’t continue.
“Maybe we should go on the offensive and hunt her,” I suggest.
“No,” Maxum and Arran growl in unison.
Dang, why do I love a protective male so much? Maybe because I don’t want to be the only one fighting for my survival. It’s the first time someone has cared like this in my life’s history. Not even a few months ago, I would have scoffed at the idea of trusting someone enough to help me, but these guys have convinced me that sometimes we can have faith in someone other than ourselves. I not only have one guy to lean on after all the years of pain and loneliness, but five. Maybe because of this, I feel invincible. I want to end this shit so I can be happy with them.
“As smokin’ hot as that growly moment was, I still think we should consider taking action and gain the upper hand instead of being at her mercy.”
“Okay,” Calder’s voice chimes from the doorway, with Osen and Flint standing right behind him. “But hypothetically, how do we entrap her? Because we need a plan, not a prayer. Look at what happened to Osen because he went full gangbusters without thinking it through.”
“Hey!” Osen protests, then frowns, rubbing his mouth. “Alright, fine. I deserved that.”
After a brainstorming session, we pack up our things and leave via a demon portal. We travel through a few places before we end up near the edge of a quaint New England town. I can see the State Park not far in the distance. When we scoped it out earlier, we found it empty of tourists, a blessing if our crazy plan works.
“We stick together,” Maxum orders, leveling his gaze at me.
“What?” I grumble. “When have I wandered off?” I rub his huge arm. “I’m going to stay real close to my big, meanie demon so he can keep me safe.”
He growls and yanks me to his side protectively. “Fucking right you are, sweet monster.”
I chuckle, but nod. “I’m not dumb. All this kicking ass stuff is way above my pay grade.”
“That isn’t necessarily true. You’re powerful,” Osen argues. “But as Calder pointed out, there’s safety in numbers. And it’s likely the witches will have them on their side.”
In their glamour to make them look like your run-of-the-mill insanely hot guys, they crowd around me like fierce bodyguards. We get a few strange looks from people, likely wondering if I’m some celebrity with my entourage of supermodel bodyguards.
Alas, I’m only known in the spicy romance world, and apparently now I’m making a splash in witchy society, too.Yay, me.
We make our way through the streets, hoping to attract the attention of any local or tourist witches. Do witches go on road trips? Witch retreats? Do they have coven support group meetings with donuts and old coffee? Do they gather around thewater cauldron and exchange gossip? Whispering,“Did you see Martha try to substitute the eye of newt for gecko? Goddess bless her heart.”
Okay, plot bunnies are now officially loose. I want to write an office witch romance. Should it be enemies to lovers or billionaire boss? Both?
I need to refocus…
Maxum tells us there are rumors that indicate there are a few witches and warlocks from the ASO living in this area.
When our parading doesn’t seem to get a reaction, we move to Plan B.
Without my containment necklace, I can’t risk handling my computer. So the task lands on Arran’s shoulders since his magic rarely affects electronics, and he has some familiarity with them.
Besides, he’s familiar with my actual computer—the sneaky spy. I idly wonder if he did a deep dive into my search history. Geeze, I hope not. A smut author’s browsing history is not for the faint of heart. Graphic sexual images, weapons, poisons, bondage, torture, how to kill someone with almost anything I can think of, and ways to dispose of a body are only a few of the nefarious topics. It suggests the makings of a very bad person.
At the park, I talk him through setting up my travel router and logging onto my computer.
All my guys are standing in a circle facing outward to keep watch for an attack.
