Page 23 of Son of a Witch

Oh, and half the guards were dead or injured, leaving a skeleton crew, and not many of Tor’s connections.

“No, but that’s good news,” I mumbled, needing the friction of his skin on mine to chase away my worries. My Candyman was always the one to comfort me, but he’d had his own shit to deal with lately, and I missed our connection. “Who are you calling today? Janet or your mother?”

“They both live in the same house,” Tor reminded me. “Although, Janet might be at work today.”

Oh, yeah. My memory was all scratchy at the moment from stress.

His shoulders tensed and his gaze dropped to his lap. “Shit. I’m not looking forward to this conversation.” Poor Tor was dreading telling them his bad news. “Mom’s been through enough recently with the move and the bank selling her unit.”

Fucking Vartros discovered Tor’s sales of contraband, and had initiated proceedings to reclaim the money, fucking up the purchase of his mother’s new unit, which he’d chipped in for. The bank was about to throw Tor’s mother out on the street—a poor, elderly woman without a husband and unable to work because of her Multiple Sclerosis. Assholes!

I brushed Tor’s fresh stubble, enjoying the rough, light hair on his chin. He looked even sexier with it, and I hoped he kept it.

Tor clasped my hand and kissed it. “Thank you for letting them stay at your rental, Supergirl.” Hearing My nickname sent a bolt of current to restart my dead heart.

“Any time.” I was happy to do it, especially after a series of mishaps.

I rubbed Tor’s shoulders, glad he perked up in a better mood these past two days. Not the kind of guy to sit still, even for a minute, Tor went stir-crazy in the hospital. After some begging, maybe coercing with siren porn, the doctors gave him permission to wander the prison and get used to his new wheelchair. Boy did it do wonders to boost his spirit.

Tor’s hand clamped tighter on me. “Who are you calling, Supergirl?’

I knew who I was calling, and it wasn’t my mother to tell her the good news about her husband.God.I scrubbed my face. My poor mom would be distraught and confused. She went through hell when dad left, her health declined, and stress caused a stroke. Now she couldn’t walk properly and relied on a cane. I worried about what might happen to her when she found out that Dad was back in the picture. And not the funny, warm man she remembered.

I bit at my nails, nervous about who Loco planned to call, if it was Mom, and I desperately wanted to ask him. But if I did that, it might open up the communication channels between us, and I didn’t want to give him an invitation to talk to me whenever he wanted. That was a strictly team privilege until I got my shit together.

“Luna,” I whispered, hoping Tor understood and didn’t ruin my plans by blabbering about it.

It took me three goes to dial the special line Luna had given me when I’d arranged for her team to pick up Raze, hide him, and protect him from the Guardians.

“Hello?” Luna’s cute little chipmunk voice answered after several rings.

“Hey, babe.” I gripped the receiver tightly, praying she had good news, because I really neededhim. Really needed to knowhewas alive and safe. That Devon, his aunt, or the Guardians hadn’t intercepted and harmed him. Most of all, I just neededhim.My wolf and mate. My home. My center.

“Hang on. I'll put him on.” The receiver creaked as Luna stretched it out, and I appreciated that my friend didn’t stand in the way of my short phone call allocation.

Thank God. The Shadows had found my wolf and would shelter him while we found a way out of this hell hole.

Every muscle in my body went rigid with anticipation. My heart exploded with joyful fireworks and happy tears leaked down my cheeks. Although we weren’t together physically, I still had one good constant in my life.

I heard his loud, delighted rumble, shaking all my pain and shock away. “Little—”

“No!” I interrupted him firmly. “No names to identify you.”

His deep, thunderous laugh struck me in the chest, lighting my cold, dead heart. “You won’t ever stop protecting your pack.”

“Never. You know me.” And that was the truth. More tears tracked down my cheeks. “It’s so good to hear your voice.”

“Yours, too.” Purring vibrations traveled from my ears to my toes and I felt like he was right beside me, holding me in his arms, whispering into my neck.

“I’ve missed you.” I pressed my palm flat to the Perspex of the booth.

“Not as much as I’ve missed you, my …” He stopped short of saying the word mate, and I kicked at the bottom of the booth, annoyed we couldn’t use our nicknames.

“You’re okay then?” I tugged at the phone cord, needing something to expel the anxious energy that had built up in me earlier.

“No thanks to you.” His grateful, rumbling chest made me want to lean between his massive pecs and fall asleep in his arms. “And I’ve got a little help now too.”

“Good.” I sniffed and wiped my nose. “Any leads?” I deflected because I didn’t want to talk about my shit when it was depressing. I ached for good news for once, like Raze had found the box with the evidence to free my men, and then I could initiate my own freedom.

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