Wild Wolf
Page 65

“Me? How? I have no idea what do to.”
Ben gestured to the book she’d brought with her. “It’s in there. Everything you need to know.”
Misty glanced at it then back at Ben, her eyes narrowing. “How do you know what’s in the book? I didn’t have it with me when I talked to you.”
“Because I wrote it.”
Misty looked Ben over again, the feeling of wrongness about him increasing. Xav made a noise of disbelief.
“You wrote it,” Misty said, “back in 1907?”
Ben nodded. “Yep. I’ve been around. The Fae have tried to return to the human world before . . . the last time was early in the twentieth century. They used interest in the standing stones, the growing popularity of the occult, Ouija boards, mediums, whatever they could, to try to find a way back in. I wrote these spells for humans, so they could counteract coercive Fae magic if necessary. The book was very popular at the time, though most humans didn’t realize how magical it was.”
Misty ran her hands over the leather cover and opened to the frontispiece and the color plate of an heirloom rose. “Did you do the pictures?”
“Nah, don’t have the talent. I hired an artist. He did a good job.”
Misty closed the book again. “I’m still stuck on the part where you wrote it in 1907.”
Dougal broke in, his voice fierce. “Means he has something other than human blood in him. He’s not Shifter, though. Are you Fae?”
Ben laughed. “No way. Ask your dokk alfar. I’m not dokk alfar either, but he knows.”
Misty listened to the exchange in impatience. “What in this book lets me open the ley line, so I can find Graham?”
“It opens a path along the ley line. Page forty-six.”
Misty flipped to it and read the words printed in a fancy typeface, surrounded by line drawings of flowers. Violets, forget-me-nots, yellow roses, and a sprinkle of rosemary, scattered in a swirl. Call the blessings of the Goddess, turn thrice clockwise, and chant the letters of your name in reverse.
Misty looked up at Ben. “Seriously?”
Ben shrugged. “Turning in circles and saying things backward was popular at the time. The important part is the type of flowers and the pattern, which you lay directly on a ley line. And call to the Goddess, because you will need her protection. Don’t do this without her.” Ben paused, his dark eyes in this dim light like pools of blackness. “Seriously.”
“Misty,” Xav said. “Who is this guy, and why are you listening to him?”
Misty faced Xav, her chest tight. She’d been holding herself clenched so that her worry for Graham wouldn’t reduce her to a puddle of ineffectual nothing. “Someone who might help me get to Graham. I’m willing to do anything, no matter how crazy, to help him. Understand?”
Xavier looked down at her for a long time. He’d been guarding her in the house and store since her adventure in the desert, and he’d been witness to every shift in Misty’s relationship with Graham. She saw in Xav’s eyes now that he knew she’d chosen Graham and would never have interest in a human ex-cop. A Shifter had gotten under Misty’s skin, and she saw that Xav understood.
“All right. But I’m sticking by you, and keeping an eye on this one.” Xav gestured with his Taser to Ben.
“Fair enough.” Misty turned from him and read the words again. “Violets and forget-me-nots. You didn’t live in this climate, did you?”
“Ireland,” Ben said. “At the time.”
“Rosemary is easy. I have some growing at home, plus there’s always the supermarket. These other two . . . Damn it.”
“What?” Dougal asked in alarm. “What’s wrong?”
“I’d have these flowers in stock, but the gang boys destroyed everything. This means I have to buy from a rival florist, one that would be happy to see me go out of business. I swear, when I get Graham back safely, I’ll let him visit Sam Flores, wherever he’s been stashed, and kick his sorry behind.”
“I’ll do it.” Dougal flashed her his grin again, the one that said he liked any excuse for trouble.
“No, you won’t.” Misty punched numbers into her phone. “Hi,” she said to the pleasant-voiced woman who answered the phone. “I’d like to place an order. A rush. In fact, I’ll pick it up from you. Yes, I know a rush is extra . . .”
 • • •
An hour later, Misty and Xav returned from the florist with bunches of purple, blue, and yellow flowers. The owner of the flower store had pretended to be very sympathetic to the vandalism to Misty’s shop, saying she wouldn’t blame Misty for closing. “So dangerous, sometimes, to run a small place on your own,” the woman had said. “We could always find a job for you in one of our shops, if you want it.”
“I’m not closing,” Misty had answered, irritated. “I’m waiting for the rest of my repairs then I’m back in business.”
“Oh,” the woman had said, giving her a false smile. “That’s so brave of you.”
Misty had taken her flowers without further word and departed. Xav helped unload them from her car back at her own shop, where Dougal and Ben had waited with the cubs. Misty thrust the bunches of flowers into Ben’s, Dougal’s, and Xav’s hands and told them to follow her back to the convenience store.
“I hope no one sees me like this,” Dougal said. He glanced around, as though worried other Shifters, the grizzly brothers maybe, would pull up, point to Dougal with his arms full of blue blossoms, and laugh.
“Suck it up,” Misty said. She gave Dougal a smile to soften her words. “Hey, Graham’s right about that saying—it’s useful.”
She led the way back into Pedro’s store. Pedro only sighed when Misty asked to use the back room for a few more minutes and agreed, as long the owner didn’t find out. He didn’t ask questions—Pedro had once told Misty he’d seen it all. Maybe Misty charging into his storeroom with two wolf cubs, a Shifter, an armed security guy, and a whatever-he-was carrying armloads of flowers wasn’t the oddest thing he’d ever encountered.
Misty followed Ben to the spot he indicated, and started laying the flowers in the patterns specified by the book. It seemed a shame to toss the blossoms to the floor, when they would look beautiful arranged in a big vase—small purple blooms of the violets and the vibrant blue of the forget-me-nots against the large yellow roses.