Page 32 of The Wolf and his Witch

“Who’s to say the shifters didn’t put it there?”

Gabriel tsk tsked. Annabelle glared at him.

“I had Roger take a look at it. He got a partial print off it. Dutton’s arrest for that bar fight a few years back came in useful. Roger matched his prints.”

Having a warlock who was also a cop had come in handy over the years. Thank goodness Roger was on their side of the coven divide, not the Kings’.

“But I still don’t think we can completely trust—”

“I’ve received word back from the shifters, Annabelle. What I said earlier about Gabriel being a good ally, about being a wise choice… I stand by that. In fact, now I’m openly encouraging it.”

What the hell, Aunt Marjory?

Gabriel stood in front of her and rocked on his heels, arms folded, eyes twinkling and his lips curled at the corners. What she wouldn’t give right now, to wipe that smug, shit-eating grin off his face.

Chapter Fourteen

Annabelle turned away from Gabriel, more to hide her own expression rather than to stop him from listening in. His shifter senses were too good. He’d hear her even if she whispered.

“What exactly did the shifters say, Aunt Marjory?”

“Honestly?” Aunt Marjory sighed. “Not much. What theydidsay was we could trust them. That allying with them would benefit us a great deal. And if one of them were to mate one of our own, it would change the power dynamics in our coven forever.In our favor.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“They wouldn’t say. You’ll have to ask Gabriel.”

Aunt Marjory signed off after reiterating to be careful around the Kings, and Annabelle shoved her phone back in her bag. A warm body pressed against her from behind and arms reached around her.

Gabriel’s mouth brushed against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “We’re meant to be together, you and me. You can’t resist fate, Annabelle.”

She wrested herself from his embrace. “As if you haven’t spent the last three years trying.”

The little bell over the door tinkled, and her boss and owner of Rarity entered the store.

He stopped in the doorway. “Annabelle? Isn’t it your day off?” He adjusted his spectacles on his nose and checked his watch. “And isn’t it a bit early?”

“Morning, Brian. Yes, you’re right. It is my day off. I just wanted to finish that catalog I was working on.” She slipped her arms into her coat, wrapped her scarf around her neck and grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. “It’s all done, and now that you’re here, you can help this gentleman.” She gestured to Gabriel. “He’s in the market for a book. He mentioned a grimoire.” She slung a smirk at Gabriel. “I’ll see you Monday, Brian.”

With a triumphant bounce to her step, Annabelle slipped from the store and out into the street, laughing to herself at the look of consternation on Gabriel’s face. She hoofed it down the sidewalk. She didn’t have long. Gabriel would waste no time coming after her, and she had to get to the next block where she’d parked her car.

She made it, and still no sign of the shifter.Good. Unlocking her door, she swung it open, only to have it slammed shut by an olive-skinned hand.

“You can’t get away from me that easily, Annabelle.”

Damn it. She should’ve walked faster. She should’ve run.

“We need to talk.” He took her keys, guided her around to the passenger side, and opened the door. “Get in.”

She thrust her chin out, prepared to fight him on this, but one look at the set of his jaw and the determination in his eyes, she decided against it and slid into the passenger seat. He probably would have picked her up and thrown her in if she’d refused. He skirted the car, slipped into the driver’s seat and keyed the engine.

“And where might Stefanie be now? Searching my apartment, perhaps?”

Gabriel buckled himself in, not looking at her. “She’s with Isobella.”

Alarm ratcheted up her spine. “With Isobella? Why?” She spun to face him. “What do you want with my sister?” She hadn’tforgotten his fascination with Isobella at dinner last night. Nothing about his behavior since then suggested he had a thing for her, so what was it? Was it some darker purpose? Had the local shifters given Aunt Marjory that spiel under threat?

He threw the car into gear. “Put your seatbelt on, Annabelle. We’ll go somewhere and talk.”

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