Page 32 of Bound and Beguiled

“Something did happen, though.” Fenn ran a hand through his hair, his expression grim. “Come on, all of you. We need to talk.”

The group that trooped into Sid’s office filled it to capacity. Sid, Fenn, and I faced each other over the heavy desk, the four Bwbachod ranged behind me. On one side of us, Mouse loomed silently, while on the other Khalon, Pookie, and Widow—the Cairn Riders’ Enforcer—dripped menace like pollen in spring.

Fenn didn’t beat around the bush.

“Your and Katarina’s cars were broken into tonight. The guy smashed the windshields, slashed up the seats, and poured pig blood everywhere.” Beside him, Sid’s tentacles whipped in frustrated rage.

I felt sick. Cold sweat prickled on my forehead and my hands trembled. Immediately, steady fingers grasped mine in wordless support. More hands braced my shoulders, and I breathed a little easier. Not alone.

“You get his scent?” Widow’s voice was calm, but the Manticore woman’s gold eyes glowed fiercely. Claws tapped an unsettling, slow rhythm on the guns strapped to her hips.

“Better,” Fenn answered, baring his teeth in something too hungry to be a smile. “I gothim. Trackin’ him down wasn’t that hard—just some wanna be thug looking for a quick buck. Gave me a real pretty description of the guy that hired him.” His eyes settled back on me and softened with regret. “It was Franklin. No doubt about it. Guy noticed his bands.”

My head jerked up and down. Who else would it have been?

“Making the deal in person was a mistake.” Khalon’s deep voice rumbled with satisfaction.

“Think he’s made others?” Pookie asked. For once, his grumpiness was directed at someone else. It was a small thing, but at this point I’d take any win I could get.

“I’ll look into it,” Widow said.

“Tell me about the plan to deal with this fucker.”

There was an awkward beat of silence before I realized Khalon had directed the question to me. “Oh! Uh, it’s pretty simple. He and my mother have planned a binding ceremony for us in two days. We’re going to go, expose him, and it’ll all be over.”

Khalon’s dark eyes—so like his sisters—bored into me. I fought not to fidget, but his stare pulled up every secretly harbored doubt until they ricocheted around my head like a barrage of pistol fire.

“Alright.” He blinked slowly, releasing me, and if my lovers hadn’t been propping me up I might have collapsed from the relief. “Until then, you need some breathing room. How about you write dear old mom a letter, telling her you’ll be a good girl and show up at the chapel on time? No reason to terrorize you if they think you’re doing what they want.”

Sid pulled out a pen and a pad of paper. The scratching of the nib as I wrote was louder than the band playing just outside. When I finished, Widow took the paper, patted my hand, and walked out, leaving behind only a faint scent of gun oil.

“Pook, send some prospects over to Honey’s place. I want eyes on it, and I want those cars fixed up. Tell ‘em not to be quiet about it,” Khalon directed.

“I can pay—” I started, snapping my teeth shut at the glare he sent me.

“All you need to do is stay here. You’re not to step one foot outside these walls before go time. No taking out the trash, no breaks in the woods. Stay. Put.” Darkness gathered around him as he spoke, coiling and snapping like angry snakes. Without looking away from me, he spoke to his sister. “Family only until this is sorted. Clear ‘em out. We’re reinforcing the wards tonight.”

“On it,” Sid said shortly, stopping only long enough to give me a hug and a soft, whisperer reassurance before striding out into the bar.

“Do I need to worry about the hired help?” Khalon asked, directing the question to Fenn.

“Nah. I suggested he think harder about the jobs he takes, and that it might be good for his health if he did that thinking far away.” Fenn pressed his fists together, cracking his knuckles, which I only then realized were splattered with blood.

Khalon grunted, gave me a final, inscrutable look that spread over the silent Bwbachod at my back, and left.

“I’m sorry.” The words fell from my lips, settling into the room like lead weights.

“I beg your pardon?”

Flinching at the flat tone of Fenn’s voice, I rubbed the back of my neck. “I should have listened. I know that now. I just—I really didn’t think Franklin would go this far. But now I’ve dragged all of you into this mess, and—”

“Li’l Mouse, I’m gonna need you to stop talkin’.” Fenn shook his head. “Nobody’s blaming you for any of this. Shit.” Coming around the desk, he ruffled my hair like an obnoxious older sibling. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear any of that so I don’t have to tell Katarina her cousin’s certifiable. Y’all take care of her.”

As soon as we were alone, Efa scooped me up. The next second, all five of us were squished onto the mighty couch, wrapped around each other as tight as we could get without removing our clothes.

I sank into them. I didn’t think Ymet was taking my prayers anymore, but I gave thanks anyway for these four amazing beings who were strong enough to stand at my back, scaffolding me when I tried to crumble, and respectful enough to let me chart my own course.

Still, insecurity was a relentless drip on my soul. “Do you think—?”

---