Marked By Magic by Christa Wick

Chapter Ten

Michelle wasin the main room on the first floor when Tanner returned from his shift at the gate. She had a notebook and a pile of belongings from the various Hunters who had used the space as their communal sleeping quarters. Philia and Tavi were in the room with her, each of them with their own pile and notebooks.

All three women looked like they were touching manure. He figured, with their psychic sensitivities, interacting with the clothing and keepsakes was more like touching manure-coated vomit that a skunk had doused.

Stopping in front of Philia's stack, he gestured at her notebook. Frowning, she handed it up to him. When he made eye contact with the woman, she used her annoyed gaze to gesture in Michelle's direction. Ignoring the prompt, he leafed through what she had recorded.

"Really, a state trooper?" he asked.

Philia shrugged.

"There was a badge and ID card," she said at the end of her shrug. "And I caught flashes of him pulling women over. But the credentials could be fake and used to capture latents. Iris will learn more from the articles of clothing and the badge I set aside. And, what she can't see, Esme will."

Speaking of women captured just to be slaughtered and victimized in other ways, the woman's expression warped from her earlier annoyed frown to one of sorrow and remembrance. Just as quickly, it warped again, her chin coming up and her gaze nailing him as she mouthed something.

Tanner wasn't great at reading lips, but he was pretty sure the latent had just called him a damn fool and told him to talk to Michelle.

Leaving Philia, he moved to where Tavi was sorting through her pile. Despite most of her face hidden by a veil of brown hair, he could see that tears streaked her tan cheeks. As he had done with Philia, he read through Tavi's notes.

A tight knot formed in his throat and his free hand curled into a fist as he read about one of the Hunters who had been in charge of dropping the cubs off in strange cities. The words Fucking Bastard raged through his head. When he could actually speak again, he returned the notebook and thanked Tavi.

"I'm sorry you ladies have to see these things."

The women didn't respond, at least not verbally. But he could feel Philia and Tavi pushing at him with their magic. Their energy pointed him in Michelle's direction.

He knew he couldn't not stop and speak with her. His interaction with the other women basically demanded that he not snub his mate's presence. But his feet dragged as he approached Michelle.

"Is the cub still with Esme?"

She nodded and handed him her notebook. He glanced through it to find more of the same. Tanner returned the notebook, then glanced around the room. Near the door were a few large trash bags with their tops knotted.

"Do you still have to go through those?"

Michelle shook her head. "Denver said the bags can be thrown in the woods. Navarro can tell you where. They'll be burned when we're ready to leave the place for good. Until then, he doesn't want the smoke attracting any attention."

Her tone was listless. She had been through a lot the past few days, even died for a few terrifying minutes, and now she was stuck sensing the memories of past violence inflicted on others. Tanner wanted to soothe Michelle's pain, but didn't know how to reach out to her without it seeming presumptuous.

"I'll take the bags out," he agreed with the same listless tone Michelle had used. "Anything else I can do to help you ladies?"

Philia snorted in her usual forward manner. Tavi and Michelle remained silent.

Scooping up the bags and leaving the room, Tanner imagined the rest of his days playing out like this—him always on the periphery of Michelle's world. He expected the reality was even lonelier. Eventually, she would meet someone she clicked with, perhaps a wolf who had lost his mate.

Or maybe the Hunters would be completely routed and she would be safe to return to human society. Then he wouldn't even have the gift of knowing where she was.

It wasn't like Michelle felt Tanner the same way he felt her. There wasn't anything for her to miss out on by him staying out of her life.

Stepping onto the porch, the guard on duty directed Tanner on where to take the bags. The location was maybe a tenth of a mile into the woods to a spot the Hunters had already made into their own garbage dump. He tossed the bags on the heap, then circled the perimeter as twilight approached. Grabbing a stick, he fished out a single blue shoe. It was open-toed, with a two-inch heel. The fabric was satin. Two of three clear rhinestones that had gone across the toe strap remained.

Nearby, he heard a twig crunch.

Spinning around, he found that Michelle had come to within a few feet of him without his sensing her presence, neither physically nor through his wolf's totem.

She held her arms forward, her palms out to expose the inside of her wrists. A ward had been carved into the flesh.

"Iris gave me a crash course in concealment this afternoon," she explained. "I thought there was no better way to test it than by following you. Sorry if I startled you."

Head bobbing, Tanner threw the shoe back into the pile, then wiped his hands on his jeans.

"You could have got lost, though," he said, his jaw and throat so tight the words left him in sharp chirps. "Especially with the light almost gone."

With her left palm up and the index finger on her right hand fully extended, she swirled a circle over and over until she seemed to be holding a bright blue beacon.

Tanner walked past her, his hand flicking in a motion for her to follow.

"Impressive, but let's get you somewhere safer."

Michelle didn't follow as he expected. He turned and stared at the young woman. She hadn't extinguished the witch light. Its glow illuminated her beautiful face and turned the pale blonde hair into a soft lavender color.

"Are you ever going to acknowledge what we are to one another?" she asked, her voice so quiet it almost escaped the acute hearing he possessed as a shifter.

"It's what you are to me," he corrected. "You're not saddled with the same senses."

The light ebbed in her hand.

"If that's what you think, then I guess you haven't talked with any of the latents…like Lana."

Shaking his head, Tanner turned and headed toward the mansion. Something bounced off his right shoulder. A glance to the side revealed it was the shoe he had dropped back into the pile. Michelle had used her magic to fling it at him with an unerring adequacy.

"Not really," she answered, "I was aiming for the back of that thick skull of yours."

Tanner stiffened.

Had Michelle just read his mind?

"Ask me out loud, and maybe I'll answer."

Spinning away from her, he turned toward the nearest bush and splattered vomit all over its leaves and branches.

Recovering, he held up a finger.

"One, don't do that."

A second finger joined the first.

"Two, how the hell are you doing that? Far as I know, only Esme can read minds with that much accuracy, maybe Iris, too. And they can't do it all the time, unfortunately."

Michelle approached a little closer before answering. "You're the only one I can do it with. I can pick up moods and a little intent from other people. But, with you, it's the same as hearing you speak out loud."

Tanner wanted to grab the woman by the shoulders and shake her.

"Why do you want that?" she asked, her voice turning fragile.

"Someone said you wanted to die at the bottom of that lake!" he shouted, immediately wanting to punch his own face for yelling.

Michelle hadn't been treated well in her life. She had experienced real violence, he knew that by watching her among other people. She didn't deserve his angry tone.

"I wanted to save Oscar," she corrected, her words constricted. "And I didn't want anyone to die trying to save me."

Tears escaped Michelle. Tanner could see the witch light that colored them.

"It's my job to die if it means saving you," he growled, finally grabbing Michelle and pulling her close.

"Then it's my job to die—"

"No!" he shouted, forgetting himself and giving her a hard shake. "It doesn't work like that."

Trying to untangle herself from his grip, Michelle disagreed.

"Esme and Iris would die for their mates."

"And their mates," Tanner countered, his voice back under control, "would be just as furious at the idea as I am."

She sniffled, the faint sound crushing his soul.

"Look," he said, voice growing even gentler. "What is it you think you want?"

Michelle tilted her head up to meet Tanner's gaze, her answer threatening to knock him to the ground so hard he would never get up again.

"I want to know what it's like to be your mate."