Page 67 of Wicching Hour

Osso’s head dropped. “Your dad is some kind of fae sea god and even he’s afraid of what the queen might do?”

I considered all the dreams I’d had last winter of the insane crap my cousin Sam had been going through because the queen and king had taken an interest in her. They were right. This wasn’t good.

Osso stood. “Can you give me copies of the security footage for Swan and the stalker? I’ll get the tainted food to the lab. I need proof there was poison before I can arrest him.”

I transferred the videos using a files compression service. “It says it’ll take about seven more minutes and then you’ll get an email with the file.”

“Here.” He took a USB drive from his pocket. “The D.A. gets nervous about documents that go through outside services.”

I took it from him and went to the far side of my worktable. “I have a dongle in here somewhere.” I rifled through cords and attachments in my tech drawer. I found one, plugged it and then the drive in and started copying files. It didn’t take long. I have excellent computers, considering all the digital images I work with.

Osso stood by the back door, the garbage bag at his feet while he scribbled notes.

I handed him his drive. “Tell your lab to check the peanut butter chocolate chip cookie first. It should save them some time.”

He took the drive and put it back in his pocket. “I have a cousin in the lab. I think I can talk her into moving this to the top of the list. I’ll get back to you.” And he was gone.

Declan stood in the middle of my very long worktable, studying the underwater scenes. “Is this me?”

I’d given one of the mermen a beard and a wolf tattoo on his biceps. “Maybe.”

He shook his head, grinning. “Thanks. I love these. They’re very different from the rest of your work.” He gestured toward the gallery. “And yet it’s still you. Each one is its own world. They’re so intricate and detailed, but the full image is…charming. They’re like those Busy books I had when I was little. Every section I look in, there are little stories going on. You’re storytelling in a way that will draw children in and spark their imaginations.”

Bubbles of pleasure and pride made their way from my stomach to my chest. I went to him, pulled on his arm, and kissed the top of his cheek, above his beard. “Thank you.”

“You should sell prints for people who want your work in their child’s nursery but can’t afford to pay for your original art.” He held up a hand. “It’s your art and your decision. I just like the idea of all kids having access to your work, not just the rich ones.”

I wrapped my arms around him, and he snugged me in tight. “It was a thought I had last night as well,” I said. “My cousin Frank suggested I sell some of my larger photos as five-by-sevens, matted and slipped into cellophane sleeves for those who’d like to own my work but can’t pay thousands for it.”

Declan nodded. “I like that, and I like Frank and Faith. I met your other cousins at your Aunt Sylvia’s wake. They were…not great. These two, though, I was watching them on opening night. They’re hard-working, polite, and they honestly seemed happy and proud to be working for you.”

“They’re both great,” I confirmed. “They benefitted from being a decade younger than the rest of the cousins who, no doubt, would have terrorized them.” I went to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

“Always.” He wrapped his hands around my shoulders and directed me to the couch. “I’ll make us something for breakfast in a minute. You look beat.”

“Jeez, you and Osso are doing great things for my self-esteem today. He said I looked like hell.”

Declan sat on the couch and pulled me into his lap, turning me sideways so he could see my face. “Sorry. We’re idiots. You’re gorgeous.” He shook his head. “Insanely so. When you’re overworked and overtired, there’s a tightness around your eyes that says you need sleep. My guess is that Osso noticed the tightness too and being the snarly bear he is, put it in the most delicate way he could.”

That made me laugh.

“I’m sorry about the way I acted earlier, but I’m worried. There’s too much aimed at you and it’s making me very nervous, especially when I have to keep leaving to meet pack members in the mountains.”

“I can handle myself,” I assured him.

He nodded. “I know you can, but that doesn’t change the worry. You and I both know you’re vulnerable to attack. Someone comes up behind you and puts a hand on your neck? You’re down and unable to use your magic to protect yourself.”

I couldn’t argue the point, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed being reminded.

He kissed my temple. “I don’t want anything bad to ever happen to you. I realize that’s an impossible wish, but I can try to protect you, can’t I?”

His earnestness melted my heart just a little more.

“We talked earlier about guards and I said I had an idea.” He rubbed my back. “I feel you tensing up. Give me a minute to explain. Okay?”

After some internal wrestling, I said, “Go on.”

“There are two wolves. They used to be members of my dad’s pack in the Santa Cruz Mountains. After Dad was killed and his son Marcus took over, the wolves’ lives were more difficult. Marcus wasn’t our father. He was weak. Many of the stronger wolves wouldn’t accept him as Alpha and moved on.

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