Page 59 of Strike It Witch

“Not my doing,” Mason said, with zero conviction. It was almost as if hewantedRonan to attack him.

“Why don’t I believe you, second?”

“Does it matter,third?”

The tension between the wolves had every hair on my body standing on end. Was he seriously challenging the authority of his father’s second-in-command? For me?

What a terrible idea.

“He didn’t do it,” I said. “I got into a, uh, scuffle earlier.”

Ascuffle? What was I, a hundred years old?

Ronan didn’t give an inch; in fact, the tension in the tiny room ratcheted up. Were the wolves in the dining room feeling anything? No one had dared to come into the hall, as far as I could tell.

“Why would it matter to you if I had, Pallás?” Mason asked. “Are you involved with this witch?”

Ronan looked at me.

I gave my head a brisk shake and stared into his eyes, willing him to read my mind.It’s a trap. Don’t do it.

He straightened and snapped his head up as if coming to attention. His gaze dimmed. His claws disappeared. He was still hairier than usual but calmer. “I’m responsible for ensuring she finishes the job Alpha hired her to do.”

It was stupid and irrational, but a small part of me felt disappointed with his response.

“The book. Right,” Mason said.

“Alpha Second,” I rasped, “if the next part of your plan is to frog march me into your boss’s office, don’t bother. I already know the way. Plus, he knows I’m coming.”

Mason looked dubious. “You brought a dagger into the bar to kill him.”

“I didn’t bring the blade in to kill him. I brought it because, one, he told me to—” Okay, that was walking the line between the truth and a lie. He’d told me to bring it to the Mictlantecuhtli cult house, not here. “—and, two, because it’s what I used to take down the anti-me spell.”

“Anti-youspell?” Ronan frowned.

“Yep. Your pops had someone—I’m assuming the coven—ward the bar against me.”

“Why didn’t you call and ask to be let in?” Mason asked.

“This seemed more efficient.”

“You wanted to prove that you could counter the spell.” Mason shook his head. “Godsdamn arrogant witches.”

“Hey, it’s not like witches have the hubris market cornered. You wolves are galaxies ahead of us.” I tried to move out of his grasp, but the wolf held tight. “Look at it this way. If I’d wanted Alpha Floyd dead, I could’ve poisoned him this morning instead of mildly annoying him.”

At the reminder, Hartman’s fingers tightened around my neck. It didn’t hurt, but it would when I took off the charm. Also, it was getting old. “Tell me exactly how you planted the wolfsbane.”

“Maaaagic,” I said, with a flourish.

“Betty.” Ronan shook his head. He layered some authority into his voice and addressed Mason again. “It’s obvious she’s not here to kill Alpha. Release the witch, and I’ll escort her to his office. He can decide what should be done with her.”

Yikes. I knew he was playing the part, but did he have to sound so convincing?

Mason eyed the other man with antagonistic intensity, stopping short of a challenge. “Yes,third.”

Ordinarily, a command from a third alpha wouldn’t fly with a pack second, but Mason Hartman was intelligent enough to know Ronan had some clout around here. He was, after all, the alpha leader’s son.

Or maybe he saw the raw power simmering beneath the surface and knew he was outmatched.

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