Page 8 of Plus-Size Mate

Then, finally, Jack scoffed and said, “Well, I guess so. Though I was hoping to speak to the head of your coven. You aren't, after all, able to make decisions on behalf of your entire coven while she is away, are you?”

A cold shiver ran down Winter's spine. What did he want with their coven?

It was one thing to invite a witch to your home, but it was quite another to make mention of their coven.

“I suspect that depends upon what is being asked of us,” Winter said, shrugging. “Anything urgent could be relayed to my mother over the phone.”

Jack laughed at that, and Winter scowled.

“What is so funny?”

Her arms tightened around her chest, making her feel even more defensive than before.

“Nothing. I just imagined that witches were still using owls and crows to send messages long distance,” Jack said. Then, just as quickly, he shook his head and apologized. “I'm sorry. That was quite offensive. I shouldn't have said that. You'll have to forgive me, I've been cooped up in this office for too long.”

“Might that have anything to do with the reason you brought me here?”

Jack looked at her long and hard, sighing deeply before he nodded.

“Yes, though I'm afraid I was really hoping for your mother on this one,” Jack said, his expression quite serious.

Winter gritted her teeth. Anything her mother could help with, she was certain she could, too.

“As I said, my mother has left me in charge of everything. If I can help in any way, you have my support.”

At that, Jack smiled a little, though the expression was strained.

“Then I suppose I had better get on with explaining,” Jack said, crossing the room to one of the neatly-packed bookcases that lined the walls of the study. Winter was, in fact, quite surprised by these; she hadn't ever imagined that werewolveswere all that into reading. In fact, she imagined they were far more likely to shred books up than read them.

“I believe we may have found a way to protect the town permanently from our enemies, but unfortunately, as with anything in these situations, it is not an easy fix.”

Winter's stomach clenched with concern. His tone was none too encouraging, and the way he plucked a book from the shelf to bring it to her didn't help any.

The thick black leather tome was a familiar sight. Not in the sense she had seen it before, but in the sense that it looked much like many of the books in her mother's storeroom.

“Where did you get that?” Winter asked, suddenly nervous beyond belief.

Why did a werewolf have a witch’s grimoire in his possession?

“From what I have learned, this book belonged to a witch who died many years ago,” Jack said as he came to sit on the armchair opposite Winter. He held the book carefully, almost as if he was afraid to damage it, or maybe even that he was afraid the book could damage him.

“If that is so, how has it come to be here? Grimoires ordinarily pass from witch to witch. And as you and the previous owners of this manor are werewolves, I do not see how—”

“The how and the why do not really matter right now,” Jack stated, his gaze hardening. “What matters right now is protecting the town and all those in it, including you and your mother.”

Winter shivered at that. Of course, she was well aware of the threat the ex-residents of Nightstar posed to its currentinhabitants, but she had never really imagined they would be a problem for her or her mother.

Being witches, they were more than capable of taking care of a few werewolves. Then again, she had heard whispers that the thick-headed Christopher had been turning humans in order to swell his ranks and take back the town. And that wasn't good news for anybody.

“I assume because you are showing this to me, you believe there is something in this grimoire that might be of help to us?” Winter said, pointing to the book in Jack's hands.

Jack nodded. Opening the front cover, he began to flick through the pages.

“We have found a spell that would prevent any werewolf outside the pack from entering town without consequences,” Jack explained, still flicking through the large book that seemed to have endless pages. Whoever this witch had been, she had lived a long and experience-filled life.

“What kind of consequences?” Winter asked, her nerves firing all over her body. “We witches aren't into violence or harming people.”

“I am very aware of the rede of the witches,” Jack said, nodding. “And I would never ask anyone to break their own moral code, even if it were to save countless lives.”

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