Page 96 of Wicche Hunt

“Oops.” I waved a hand and then jogged back into the studio. I didn’t see anyone through the door, but Declan was chuckling behind me.

“Look down.”

Otis lifted his little paw and knocked again.

“Just a minute,” I called, going to the kitchen to collect three muffins. “It’s like getting trick-or-treaters at the door.”

Declan sat on the couch. “Maybe I should pick them up little pumpkin buckets.”

Defrosting the muffins in my gloved hands, I said, “Could you? I’d love that.” I went out on the deck. “Hi, guys. I hope you’re all doing well this evening.”

Otis and Daisy sat with their paws clasped in front of them. Jasper had his paws up, reaching for the food. Otis made a sound somewhere between a hiss and a chitter. Jasper lowered his paws and mirrored his siblings.

Crouching, I handed the first muffin to Otis, who took it carefully and then moved away. Daisy was also quite polite. Jasper snatched and ran, causing his siblings to chitter and screech. Poor Jasper was getting it from both of them. He eventually came back and placed the muffin in front of me, stealing a quick bite and then going to sit beside Otis and Daisy. I nodded my thanks and then picked it up and held it out to him again. He looked at his siblings first and when neither yelled at him, he scampered over and took it gently from my hand.

Standing, I said, “You three be careful out there. We’ve had some wolves in the neighborhood.” I left them to their dinner and went back in. My phone buzzed again. When I pulled up the video feed this time, it was the delivery guy leaving the pizza boxes on the gallery porch.

“Pizza’s here. Be right back.” I readied a spell in case the three stooges returned. Thankfully, my porch was wolf free. I bent down to pick up the boxes and heard, “Itisyou.”

Righting myself, I watched a tall, dark-haired man walk into the porch light. “You’re the sea wicche, aren’t you?”

“I am.” I smiled nervously, luring him in. The face was a little different, the cheeks more prominent, but he was wearing the false chin again. There was nothing he could do about the dead eyes, though. “Can I help you?” I lowered my walls, listening to his plans for me, including the syringe in his pocket.

“I’m a fan of your work. I purchased one of your paintings last year when I was summering in London. It hangs in my study.” He gave me a self-deprecating eyeroll and grin, as though realizing that sounded pretentious as hell.

I nodded, my eyes darting to the door. I hadn’t been stalked by predators all my life without learning a few things, like how much they love to prey on those they see as small, weak, and frightened.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your evening,” he said, taking another step closer.

Three pairs of eyes shined outside the circle of light, watching. My sweet little raccoon buddies had my back.

I met Dorian’s gaze and saw it: an image of myself, at the base of the stairs at Cypress Academy. I’d been lost in a vision before snapping my head up and staring into his eyes. He’d followed Detective Hernández here and then had begun watching me, trying to suss out why an artist was consulting on an accidental death investigation.

He gestured to the boxes in my hands, the ones I tried to look as though I was hiding behind. My reputation as a recluse was working to my advantage. “Am I interrupting a party?” he asked. In other words, was I alone?

“Oh.” I ducked my head, letting my hair fall in my face. “No. It’s silly. I just—I bought two pizzas so I can have leftovers for the next couple of days.” I shrugged. “I should eat healthier, but I’m racing to get everything ready for the opening and I was too tired to cook.”

“I’d love nothing more than to take you out to dinner. I know a quiet bistro you’d love.” That grin again. “It’s close by. A woman as gifted as you shouldn’t have to worry about such mundane things.”

I heard a low growl on the other side of the door, but Dorian, with his human hearing, did not. Poor Pearl. She’d been too overwhelmed, too flustered, to see behind the mask.

“That’s very kind, but I don’t want to be a bother,” I responded, glancing at the door again.

He leaned in and said with a wink, “Spending time with such a beautiful woman is never a bother.”

I ducked my head again, waiting for the lunge with the syringe, but he was having too much fun. Control and power. They were a heady combination, and he was drawing this out longer than he’d intended.

“Here,” he said, taking the pizza boxes out of my hands. “Those must be getting heavy.” He balanced them on the railing before turning back, a feral grin on his face. “There. That’s better. Now I can see you.”

I gave him a wide-eyed, deer in the headlight stare and I felt his adrenaline race. Laughing, I dropped the scared schtick and said, “She never saw you coming, did she?”

He was too busy looking me up and down to notice the change. Lost, fantasizing about how he’d kill me once I was overpowered and restrained, it took a moment to meet my gaze.

“Sorry. I didn’t get that.” He reached out for my curls, and I ducked away from his hand. I wasnotletting him put his hands on me.

“My cousin. She couldn’t see past the face putty and makeup to the entitled sociopath from her middle school class.”

He stepped back, the grin slipping off his face.

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