Page 34 of Wings and Shadowthief

“No,” she replied immediately.

Jack ignored her. “If you slip and hurt someone? Come to me. Immediately, before anyone else.”

“So you can kill me yourself?”

He shrugged. “So I can wipe the evidence.”

She didn’t make that promise.

Gwen was never going to rely on Jack. She didn’t believe him, and she sure as fuck didn’t trust him.

The Home of Chaos

Jack wasn’t one to need more than five hours of sleep per night, but it turned out not sleeping at all wasn’t something his brain approved of.

Mental exhaustion was getting to him. His body didn’t physically need the sleep—the Salem amulet was doing the trick in that respect—but he found it hard to concentrate on just about anything, and his short-term memory was shot.

What had Gwen sent him out for, again?

He had to admit their shopping trip had been fun, though it was equally frustrating.

Jack could see a lot of himself in Gwen, but he was only scratching the surface. There were issues with her self-confidence, her sense of worth, that didn’t make sense to him. A badass witch such as her ought to feel and act like she owned the world, like mere mortals should bow to her. But she didn’t. She buried herself under layers of shame and worries. Something, or someone, had clipped her wings. After their discussion in the car, Jack was starting to understand that it might have something to do with her home, her coven.

What was it that William had said? A coven helps itself. Hers might have seen benefits to keeping her docile.

He didn’t like it one bit.

“Where’s the litter?”

Litter. That was it.

He winced. “Sorry, I got sidetracked.”

He’d stopped in front of the toy section. Jack grabbed the first object on a nearby shelf—a plushie—and held it up. “We need this, right?”

Gwen shook her head. “The kitten’s a few days old. Its eyes are still shut. It can’t play yet—especially with catnip toys.”

“It’ll grow soon enough. Unless you plan on making our trip into town a regular thing, we might as well stock up.”

“Not the worst idea,” she admitted with palpable reluctance.

She hated when he was right. Jack grinned.

“But this one’s boring.” Gwen picked another plushie, one in the shape of rabbit.

Jack shook his head. “No way. I bet you anything the cat’s going to prefer a fish to a boring old rabbit.”

“Well, too bad, because I’m the one with Blair’s credit card, and I picked the rabbit.”

Jack chuckled. “Cute of you to assume I don’t have my own cash to spend.”

He was loaded, because he barely ever spent any money. His gear, food and lodging, and his bullets were paid for by the huntsmen. His salary was collecting dust in an account. Not to mention that the Hunters had invested wisely through the ages. And Rakiel, when bored, liked to play with the stock market. Jack had been given an ever-growing trust fund when he’d turned twenty-one. He could afford a damn catnip toy if he felt like it.

“Fine. Waste it on your boring old fish.”

She was so easy to rile up.

“I will, thank you, gorgeous.”

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