Page 73 of Black Willow Witch
As Paisley had predicted, Michael’s parents didn’t seem to like that Emberlyn and Ripper were sharing a metaphorical bed. They hadn’t said as much to her, but their recent smiles were forced and their tone was flat whenever they greeted her in passing, making their disapproval obvious. She’d so far ignored it.
A soft breeze whispered over her and stirred the plants, making the leaves flutter and the stalks bend slightly. Thirsty, she eyed the glass she’d propped on the nearby bench after Lucie had almost knocked it over.
Emberlyn pushed to her feet, her stiff knees protesting slightly, and tugged off a stiff glove. Crossing to the bench, she wiped her sweaty hand on her tank-green jumpsuit and picked up the glass. Tart and cool, the lemonade went down nicely.
Noticing that Lucie was sitting on the fence with her back to her, Emberlyn asked, ‘What are you looking at, kitty?’ She wafted at a floating ball of dandelion fluff as she strained to spot what had caught the feline’s attention.
It was only then that Emberlyn realized an eerie hush had fallen. No birds tweeting, no bees buzzing. Even the breeze seemed to have retreated.
Unease crawling up her spine, she set the glass back down on the bench.
A low droning growl of warning came from Lucie.
Emberlyn yanked off her other glove just in case she’d need to call on her magick. It could be that one of Ripper’s wolves had accidentally strayed too far, or that someone was knowingly poking around and spying on her. If it was the latter, they were going to get a magickal bitch slap.
‘Not sure who’s out there,’ Emberlyn called out, her voice hard, ‘but I have no problem burying you in my little pet cemetery if you don’t get the hell off my land.’
Growling again, Lucie stood on all fours, her hackles rising.
Emberlyn tossed her gloves on the ground and approached the cat, scanning the shadowy wooded terrain beyond.
And then she saw them.
A pair of yellow wolf eyes.
Emberlyn felt her lips part. It was very rare for one of the Rabid to be seen during the day. They usually didn’t surface until around dusk but, yeah,thatwas a Rabid.
Another growl rang out, and this onedidn’tcome from Lucie.
Fuck.Before the cat could do anything ballsy but dumb like rush at the Rabid, Emberlyn scooped her up. Her pulse thudding, she slowly backed away.Veryslowly, not wanting to trigger its prey drive.
If she ran, it would charge. And, much faster than she could ever be, it might well reach her before she could get within the manor’s protective barrier.
Emberlyn kept on inching back, not once moving her attention from the figure creeping through the labyrinth of trees. It moved forward each time she moved back, stalking her.
Lucie let out yet another droning growl.
The Rabid snarled, its eyes seeming aglow with bloodlust, and then it rushed out of the trees.
‘Shit.’ Emberlyn slammed up her palm and threw out a mound of glittering magick that rapidly shifted into moths. They surrounded the Rabid – flapping at its face, obscuring its vision, distracting it. As it skidded to a stop, she whirled and ran for the house.
A roar split the air. Then heavy footsteps were tromping, branches were snapping and grass was rustling.
Even as she ran, Emberlyn twisted enough to sling a rush of magick at the Rabid just as it cleared her fence. Her blow dealt it an uppercut that made it stumble, its head snapping back.
She kept running,finallyarriving at the porch. She jogged up the steps and spun, panting.
The Rabid sprinted toward her, teeth bared. It rammed into the manor’s defensive barrier and flew backward. It crashed into a tree so hard a hanging lantern tumbled off a branch and fell on its head.
Emberlyn dashed into the house, closed the door and lowered Lucie to the floor. She hurried to the kitchen, lifted the phone receiver and dialed the Watchers’ office.
‘Hello?’ a male answered almost immediately.
She thought the voice belonged to one of Ripper’s wolves but wasn’t sure. ‘This is Emberlyn Vautier calling from Black Willow Manor. One of the Rabid is in my backyard.’
A curse drifted down the line just before she hung up.
She darted back onto the porch, closing the door behind her to stop Lucie from getting outside. Emberlyn needed to put the Rabid asleep before it chose to run off. Although . . . it didn’t look as though it had any intention of going anywhere. It was bashing at the barrier it couldn’t see, jerking backward at each ‘blow’ the magick dealt it.
