Change of Heart (The Potentate of Atlanta Book 3) Read online

  “Hadley paid the first installment on our bargain with Natisha.” He stirred the soup but didn’t eat. “She’s in a bad way right now.”

  “I’m sorry.” She joined him on the porch, not caring if her neat mint-green pantsuit got dirty. “Do you think she’ll cross the finish line?”

  Break a deal with the fae, and the bargain came undone, for starters. But that was only fair. From there, they decided how much was owed to them for the betrayal and how to collect what was due.

  Hadley had no choice but to cross the finish line, or Ford would die, and Natisha would get her chance to have what Linus had hinted she wanted in the first place: Hadley.

  “She’s stronger than she looks.” He picked the carrots from the bowl and flicked them to the ground. “It will cost her, but she’ll make it.”

  “I wish I had never summoned her,” Mom muttered, meaning Natisha. “I should have let it alone.”

  “Ford would be dead if you had,” he pointed out, for all the good it would do.

  “I don’t want this to break Hadley.” She drew her legs to her chest then wrapped her arms around them. “I don’t want you to hate me if it does.”

  “I could have paid a tithe of forgiveness and sent Natisha home.” He started to work tossing the noodles. “I’m the one who chose to bargain with her.”

  “And Hadley chose to bargain for you.”

  Her inflection, the gentle cadence of her voice, sent his gaze seeking hers. “What do you mean?”

  “She made this choice, the same as you.” She dug her toes in the dirt. “Don’t blame yourself.”

  “She saved me, and Ford.” Left with only thin broth and chicken, he spooned up the salty cubes of meat. “Natisha didn’t want anything I had to offer.”

  “Yes, she did, and she got it too.” Mom leaned her head against the cabin. “There’s something about Hadley.”

  Midas put the bowl down and gave her his full attention.

  “Linus trusts her, and I trust Linus, but I get the same feeling around her as I do around him.”

  “They’re both necromancers,” he reminded her. “They’re both bonded to...”

  “Exactly,” she murmured. “Bonded to what, exactly?”

  The taunting Hadley received every now and again made him think his mother wasn’t the only curious one. He didn’t have to reach far back in his memory for the most recent incident.

  “Why did she call you shadow child?”

  “All potentates have wraiths.”

  “You’re not Potentate yet, and that’s not an answer.” He spun it around on her. “Have you bonded?”

  “Yes.”

  Unsure what he expected, her candor surprised him. “You have a wraith?”

  “Remember when you told me there were things about your past you couldn’t share with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Remember when I said I’m in the same boat?” She clenched her fists at her sides. “This falls under that heading.”

  A sudden chill raised gooseflesh down his arms, but he still argued on Hadley’s and Linus’s behalf. “You’ve met Cletus.”

  “I’ve met a few wraiths in my time, and they’re nothing but smoke without orders.” She pursed her lips. “Either Cletus is self-aware, or Linus is the best damn wraith pilot to ever walk the earth.” She cut him a sharp look. “Have you seen Hadley’s wraith?”

  “No.”

  “You need to figure out her secret, and quick.”

  “It won’t change anything.”

  “As you might recall, I was mated to your father.” She patted his hand where it rested on the bowl. “I am familiar with the unbreakable bond our kind feels with their mate.” The bowl fell from his hands and splashed its contents onto the dirt. “I’m your mother. Did you think you could hide it from me?”

  Midas piled dirt over the mess he made. “No?”

  “You’re protecting her.” She hummed. “It’s good to see both your halves in sync again.”

  Because she was also his alpha, and her warning could be construed as a threat, he had to admit, “I’m not sure what I would do if you threatened her.”

  “Silly boy.” She rose gracefully and didn’t bother dusting her pants. “She’s your mate. That makes her pack.” She bent down and kissed his cheek. “What should worry you is what I would do if someone else threatened her.”

  “I love you.” He dragged her into a hug. “I don’t tell you often enough.”

  “No, you don’t.” She laughed in his ear. “Children never do.”

  “We need to talk about what happened tonight.”

  “Yes, we do.” She started down the path toward the den. “But first, I need to speak to Krista’s parents.”

  Rising, Midas took a hesitant step after her. “I can go with you.”

  “Stay with Hadley.” She kept walking. “You can give Krista’s parents the details when they’re ready.”

  The dueling urges to perform his duty to his pack or to perform his duty to his mate left him jittery in his skin.

  “Stay with Hadley,” Mom called back. “That’s an order.”

  The release of his obligation sagged through his shoulders, and his instincts roared for him to return to Hadley.

  Entering the cabin, he placed his dishes in the sink then crawled into bed.

  He fell asleep with his nose pressed into Hadley’s nape, but still the nightmares found him.

  Six

  Mumbling woke me from a dead sleep, and I jerked upright in a strange bed in a strange place.

  No, no, no. This can’t be happening. Not again.

  I clutched the fabric covering my chest with a shaking hand, puzzled by its nubby texture.

  A towel.

  I was wearing a towel, the material damp along the edges from the shower I had taken…at a cabin.

  The owner of that voice finally pierced the panic clouding my brain, and I almost sobbed with relief.

  Ambrose, leaning against the wall, watched me tremble and tear up while shaking his head at my hysterics.

  For reasons that eluded me, he felt I ought to trust him to look out for our best interests. When he was on good behavior, it was tempting. But that never lasted for long. Then he went right back to building his stores, tugging on his leash, and attempting to sever our ties through any means necessary.

  And yet, he still took offense when I side-eyed his motives.

  Happy to turn away from Ambrose, I pushed the damp hair off Midas’s brow. He turned his face into my palm, his distress easing, but he didn’t rouse. He kept talking in that low, rich voice thick with an accent I doubted modern Gaelic speakers could parse.

  He had fallen asleep curved around me, but I had to move. I couldn’t bear the stillness any longer.

  Untangling from him with care, I slipped off the bed and peeked out the front windows to discover forest spreading in all directions.

  We were at the den.

  Midas had taken me home with him.

  The warmth spilling through me chilled as I recalled what I had done.

  Acid rose up the back of my throat, and I padded onto the dirt porch where I dry-heaved until my eyes watered from the strain. Sure. That was why I couldn’t stop crying.

  This whole time, I had made Ambrose out to be the bad guy. He had committed murder. Several times. I had no issue with accepting half the blame, since I had been the power-hungry idiot who invited possession in the first place, but it had been his hands with blood on them. He had always done the actual deed.

  After this, I could no longer tally myself in a different column.

  I had killed in the line of duty as Linus’s apprentice, and it had been justified, but this was an execution. I could have made my peace with that, the man deserved to die for what he did to Krista, but it was different killing a child on her knees and then slicing her open to harvest her innards.

  Desperate to get out of my head, I checked my phone and found texts from Bishop, Remy, Ford, and Linus.

>   That last one broke me out in cold sweat, even though he had negotiated on Midas’s behalf and was fully aware of the debt we owed for Ford’s recovery. He knew what it would take to hold up our end, but what we had agreed to do struck me as wrong on so many levels I felt guilty at the prospect of confessing to him.

  The phone rang in my hand, and I switched it to silent before it woke Midas. “Hello?”

  “Hey.” Adelaide came off as distracted. “Linus mentioned you had a recipe for horchata I might want.”

  “Horchata?” I rubbed my eyes to make certain I wasn’t still dreaming. “When did he tell you that?”

  “About an hour ago.” She slammed something shut. “I’ve gone through every drawer in the kitchen, and I can’t find mine. Gramma Dietrich swore by it, but ugh.”

  “I do have a recipe.” I downloaded it off the A Warg Called Wanda blog. “It’s not something I would pass on to the grandkids, but it will do in a pinch.”

  Wanda was helping me learn my way around my own kitchen through her online tutorials. What I loved about her was how often she set things, and herself, on fire. Which, now that I thought about it, might not be the best credentials. Her recipes always turned out, though. Maybe not great, but they were edible. As defined by wargs, anyway.

  “Can you email it to me?” Adelaide begged. “Dad put in a special request, and I’d hate to let him down.”

  “No problem.” I might link her to the blog too. She would probably get a laugh out of it. “How’s life?”

  The awkward segue made me flush, but Adelaide didn’t make me feel lame for my rusty social skills.

  “Your brother is driving me nuts. He has started and stopped four projects around the house in the last two weeks. I get his job is demanding, and I understand he works all hours, but come on. The man has serious commitment issues. He’s always hopping to the next shiny thing that catches his eye.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood to keep from agreeing with her.

  Boaz did have serious commitment issues, and I wasn’t convinced their engagement would be enough to hold him in check forever without a deeper investment on both their parts. But I wasn’t about to suggest she put stock in him when he had been such a miser with his heart up to this point.

  As much as it pained me, I had come to terms with the fact Boaz was a grown man, and his romantic problems were for him to solve. All I had ever done was make things worse when I meddled, for him and the poor girl involved. This time, that girl was my sister, and I didn’t want to see her hurt.

  And yes, that made their relationship sound…icky.

  But, and it was a big but, they weren’t blood related, despite the fact I was stuck in the middle with distant claims to siblingship on them both.

  Frakking hell, life was complicated.

  Addie chattered about her dad, her life, my brother, for a good half hour. I made appropriate noises in the right places, and we ended the call with the promise to Netflix a show together soon. Not until the call ended did I realize how much better I felt without breathing a word of my problems to her.

  Just having someone with normal issues reach out to vent made mine somehow less.

  A vibration had me checking my phone on reflex, which torpedoed my plausible deniability, but thankfully it was just Addie bullying me as if we were actual siblings instead of a technicality.

  >> Say it.

  >> Come on. Don’t be shy.

  Um.

  >> I will call you back.

  I am enough.

  >> You typed that. Out loud this time.

  A grin sneaked up on me, and I laughed softly.

  You don’t know that.

  >> I’m your big sister. That gives me mystical powers to peer into the great unknown.

  Fear she was superimposing me over her Hadley lingered in the back of my mind, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t know where I began in her mind and her real sister ended.

  >> Don’t try to deny it. I’m marrying your ox of a brother, remember? We’re sisters. Deal with it.

  “I am enough,” I whispered to make her happy.

  There. Done. Weirdo.

  >> Love you, sis.

  More tears overflowed my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. “Love you too.”

  While it was still on my mind, I linked her to the recipe and the video, and I hoped it made her smile.

  “Trouble sleeping?” Midas leaned against the doorframe. “I heard you moving around out here.”

  Gwyllgi ears being what they were, I was willing to bet he had heard more than that.

  “I couldn’t sleep.” I held up my phone. “Then I saw all this.”

  “Your sister called,” he said, reading the top caller ID entry. “She’s worried about you?”

  “Linus must be,” I huffed. “He’s left me messages, but I haven’t answered him yet.”

  “He set your sister on you?” Midas laughed softly. “That’s brutal, exactly what I would expect from him.”

  “He’s not so bad.” A year ago, I might have fallen over dead imagining myself defending him, but I was a different person then. “He’s done a lot for me.”

  “He’s a good guy.” Midas shoved off the doorframe. “Want to go for a walk?”

  The warm night beckoned louder than the darkened cabin, even if I only wore a towel. Out here, it’s not like I had to worry about running into anyone. “Why not?”

  Plucking my phone out of my hand, he set it on the windowsill before we set out.

  “I’m not one of those girlfriends who’s always on her phone, am I?”

  “You’re only on your phone when you have to be.” He draped an arm around my shoulders and tucked me against his side. “All things considered, I’m worse than you are with all the mediating squabbles.”

  “Just making sure you don’t feel neglected.”

  The path he chose wound beneath pines whose plush needles choked the moonlight overhead.

  “And if I do?” He cut me a look. “Feel neglected.”

  “I would probably offer to pamper you.” I edged in front of him in case I needed a head start. “Trim your nails, rub your belly, Q-tip your ears. That kind of thing.”

  “I get the feeling you don’t take me seriously.”

  Hand over my heart, I whirled on him. “I take you as seriously as a shampoo commercial.”

  “I’ll count to five.” Crimson splashed onto his feet. “Use your time wisely.”

  “What do you mean five?” I backed up a step, pulse thundering. “Midas?”

  Magic pulled him under, and he reemerged with his tail swishing.

  “Oh crap.”

  Spinning on my heel, I shot down the path as fast as my feet would carry me.

  “I’m barefoot,” I screamed at him. “And in a towel. In the woods. With the ticks and bugs.”

  A throaty baying rose behind me, and the hairs lifted down my nape.

  “Frak, frak, frak.”

  A campsite sat to my right, but no one was there, and who would intervene between Midas and me?

  No one, that’s who.

  Ahead, across a field, a glass house glittered under the moon, but it was far from a sanctuary. It was the alpha’s house, the fancy one where guests to pack lands were welcomed to keep them out of the den. The true den. Not the façade shown to outsiders.

  “I am not running to your momma to get away from you,” I panted. “Forget it.”

  Sure, I had put off family dinner, but this was not the way to force an introduction.

  Whooping laughter filled the woods to my right, and a young man bounded into view. “Go left.”

  The bright joy in his eyes convinced me to trust him. “Thanks.”

  “Make him work for it.” He clapped until my ears rang. “I’ll hold him off if I can.”

  A flash of light caught the corner of my eye, and then I heard two gwyllgi engaged in play fighting. Or so I hoped. It sounded only slightly less terrifying than real fighting, but I didn
’t dare slow down to check.

  “Right,” a girl called from a low-slung limb. “Go right.”

  Out of breath, I lifted my hand and did as instructed, veering off the beaten path.

  A softer but ferocious growl made me think she had shifted to buy me time too.

  “Left,” a girl said as a young couple bounded toward me. “Then right at the fork.”

  A quick nod was all I had left for them, but I followed their instructions and came out in a glen with pine straw matting the ground and a rustic cabin backed up against a ravine. The only way out was the way I had come, and there were growls ringing out in that direction.

  “I can’t believe I listened to them.” I smacked myself on the forehead. “They led me straight into a trap.”

  The door swung open, and a tiny blond boy peeked around the corner. “Hadwee?”

  “Yes.” I approached him slowly. “I’m Hadley.”

  “Here.” He stuck out his pudgy hand in expectation. “Here.”

  I took it, noting its softness and dampness, and let him guide me into the cabin.

  “Hadwee, come.” He tugged on me. “Come.”

  The tiniest coconspirator yet brought me to a living room big enough for a family of twelve to enjoy one another’s company without being on top of each other.

  “Daddeee.” He ditched me and toddled off toward a lean male perched on the arm of a sofa. “Hi.”

  “Good work.” He lifted his son onto his hip in a smooth motion that spoke of practice. “You get a cookie.”

  “Cookieee.” The boy clapped then planted a wet kiss on the male’s cheek. “Mwah.”

  Out of place, I didn’t know what to do with myself. “I’m not intruding, am I?”

  “A beautiful woman dressed in a towel is never out of place.”

  A cushion flew across the room and smacked him in the head while the boy giggled and wriggled.

  “Ignore my mate.” A curvy woman with natural hair kissed the boy on the cheek and popped the male on the butt. “He means well.” She crossed to me and looked me up and down. “Hadley Whitaker.”

  “That’s my name.” I checked to make sure my towel remained tucked. “Who are you guys?”

  “I’m Kate, he’s Sam, and that tiny terror is Samzilla.” She shrugged. “It’s catchier than Sam Jr.”