Page 41

SHIFTERS SERIES, BOOK ELEVEN

If Cece had known someone was trying to kill her, she never would have gone out for cake.

Not an entire cake. Cece had more self-control than that, even with how supremely shitty the day had been. But the grocery store near her house sold individual slices of birthday cake, which Cece would not think about how depressing that was. Nope, instead, she would think about how delicious the cake was with its fluffy insides coated in icing so sweet it gave Cece heart palpitations.

Even better, the grocery store was within walking distance of her house and with her car currently dead in the parking lot of Sprouts Greenhouse, walking distance cake was exactly what she needed.

She studied the slices of cakes in their plastic containers lined up in a neat row in the refrigerated display case. Did she want vanilla or chocolate? A tough decision since the vanilla cake had adorable candy balloons, but the chocolate had…well, chocolate.

“If you’re trying to decide between them, my vote is for chocolate.”

Cece turned to study the woman standing beside her. She was tiny, although, to be honest, Cece’s height and weight made most women look small compared to her, and she had long dark hair pulled into a bun on top of her head. She had a sweet and open face and looked about as dangerous as a chipmunk.

Cece smiled at her. “I’m leaning toward the chocolate.”

“Great choice.” The woman stuck her hand out. “I’m Willow.”

“Uh, hi. I’m Cecelia.” Cece gave her hand a brief shake.

“Nice to meet you, Ceceila,” Willow said. “So, I guess I don’t have to ask you the age old ‘cake or pie’ question, huh?”

“Guess not,” Cece said. Was the woman hitting on her?

Willow hesitated. “Hey, totally random, but would you like to go for coffee with me? I saw a coffee shop not too far from here and -”

“I’m not gay,” Cece said. “Sorry.”

Willow blinked at her. “Oh, you don’t have to be sorry about that. But for the record, I’m not gay, either. I just thought maybe we could have coffee and talk.”

Okay, this was getting super weird. Time for Cece to step away from the nice but clearly unstable tiny lady.

“I have to go.” Cece grabbed her slice of chocolate cake and walked away.

“Wait! Just one quick coffee, what do you think?” Willow chased after her, stopping a few feet away when Cece whipped around and glared at her.

“Lady, leave me alone. I’ve had one hell of a day, and I’m not interested in whatever it is you’re selling.”

“I’m not selling anything,” Willow said quickly. “I promise.”

“Right,” Cece said.

She started walking again but froze when Willow said, “Cece, wait.”

Cece turned again. “How do you know my nickname?”

“Oh, um…” Willow toyed nervously with her jacket zipper.

“How do you know it?” Cece repeated, her voice rising.

“Your Aunt Sybil told me,” Willow said.

“You knew my aunt?” Cece asked.

“Yes,” Willow said brightly. “Just had coffee with her a couple of weeks ago.”

Her brain screaming out warning signals, Cece backed away. “My aunt died over a month ago.”

Willow’s head cocked, and she stared at a spot to her left. Cece’s crazy meter notched up another foot when, after about thirty seconds of staring into space, Willow said, “Oh shit, I should have checked with you on the date.”

Willow turned back to Cece. “I mean, I had coffee with her a couple of months ago.”

“Bullshit,” Cece said.

She stalked away, yanking her arm away from Willow when the smaller woman hurried after her and touched her elbow. “Stay away from me, lady, or I’ll start screaming.”

“Cece, please, you’re in danger, okay? There are people after you and your aunt - she wants me to warn you,” Willow said in a low voice.

Cece barked harsh laughter. “Right. She’s, what? Reaching out to you from the beyond?”

“Yes,” Willow said simply. “I can communicate with the dead.”

Cece’s laughter faded, and she stared at Willow. “Holy shit. You’re certifiably crazy, right?”

“No,” Willow said. “Look, I know how this sounds, I do, but you are in terrible danger, honey.”

Cece laughed again, her emotions flip-flopping like a fish pulled from the water. “Oh sure, I am. Let me guess, my dead aunt was secretly in the mafia, and her death was a mob hit, and now they’re after me?”

“No,” Willow said. “But a family of powerful witches wants you dead, and your mother and aunt’s protection spell isn’t working anymore.”

Cece’s mouth dropped open. “Their spell?”

“Yes,” Willow said. “They were witches. Please, give me half an hour, and I will explain everything. I promise.”

Cece shook her head. “I don’t know who you paid to get this information, but you should ask for your money back. My mom and my aunt hated anything to do with witchcraft. Aunt Sybil and I fought all the time about me practicing witchcraft and -”

She stopped, took a deep breath, and released it. “Why am I telling a crazy woman my life story?”

Still clutching her container of cake, Cece said, “Stay away from me.”

“Cece, please -”

“If you approach me again, I will scream and have the cops here so fast your cute, crazy head will spin. Do you get me?”

Willow nodded, and Cece spun around and marched toward the tills. She paid for her cake, her hands shaking so badly she could barely use her card before stuffing the container into her oversized purse and leaving the grocery store.

She headed out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk before glancing behind her. The tiny crazy woman was nowhere to be seen, and Cece let her breath out in a harsh sigh before slowing down a little.

“You’re fine, Cece. You’re fine,” she murmured as she walked down the street. She hadn’t been in the store that long, but the air, which had felt brisk but refreshing on her walk to the store, now felt like it might freeze her damn face off in a matter of seconds. She quickened her pace, pulling up her jacket hood and tucking her face into the collar. She wished she had remembered her scarf and mittens.

She walked briskly, her nose sticking together from the cold and the icy air seeping through her sweatpants to turn her legs numb.

“You’re fine,” she murmured again, even though she felt far from it. The conversation with the crazy woman had rattled her badly. How did she even know Aunt Sybil, and why on earth would she think her mother and aunt were witches? They’d both hated anything to do with magic and as a kid, Cece had been forbidden to even watch any shows with magic or witches. They both –

The sharp retort of ice cracking behind her sent Cece’s heart into immediate overdrive. She whirled around, staring into the darkness behind her. The streetlights on this particular street were spread far apart, but she could still see the man walking behind her. Her heart thumping and thudding, she slipped one hand into her jacket pocket, curling her hand around the pepper spray she carried. She flipped the lid off with her thumb, positioning her finger over the trigger and easing it out of her pocket. She held it against her side as the man drew closer, her body trembling wildly.

Squeezing the pepper spray in a tight grip, she sucked in a harsh breath as the man approached. She could hear the music blaring from his ear buds, and he gave her a curious look as he passed by her on the sidewalk. She eased her grip on the pepper spray, a shaky laugh escaping her mouth as the man walked on without a second glance. She slipped the pepper spray back into her pocket as the man turned right at the corner ahead of them and disappeared into the darkness.

“Get it the fuck together, Cecelia,” she said, her voice too trembly for her liking. The rush of adrenaline faded, making her feel even colder and shakier. She hurried down the street, tucking her head down as a blast of cold air made her eyes water.

Christ, the sooner she got home, the better. She didn’t fancy freezing to death for a piece of cake.

Your house won’t be any warmer.

Lord, wasn’t that the truth. She’d had a few different companies in to look at the furnace, but they all said the same thing – it was on its last legs, not worth fixing, needed a new one, blah, blah, blah. As if she just had a few thousand dollars lying around to install a new damn furnace.

She shivered wildly as she approached the corner. It would be a ‘sleep on an air mattress in front of the fire in the living room’ night for sure. In fact, she might even –

A hard hand curled around her arm and yanked her to a stop before she could step off the sidewalk and cross the street. “Give me your purse, lady. Right the fuck now.”

Cece stared wide-eyed at the man standing too close and gripping her arm too tightly. He was tall with a thick, bushy beard and hazel eyes that stared coldly at her. He shook her hard. “Lady! Give me your fucking purse!”

He must have come out from the side street, Cece thought. She’d forgotten the number one goddamn rule for a woman walking alone at night – always pay attention to your surroundings.

“Bitch, your fucking purse!” the man snarled.

She handed it over without a word. Still holding her arm, the man dropped her purse at his feet and sneered, “Christ, you could have at least tried to fight back. Then I wouldn’t feel so bad about killing you.”

Fear shot through Cece, sending another dump of adrenaline through her body. She tried to pull away, crying out when the man’s grip tightened brutally and sent pain shooting up her arm. “Too late now, sweetheart.”

She fumbled for the pepper spray in her coat pocket, but the man wrenched her arm up until she screamed, the resulting pain in her shoulder nearly driving her to her knees. She punched at him with her free hand, and the man cursed when her flailing hand caught him in the nose.

He pulled on her arm again, and Cece screamed thinly, the pain now a white-hot agony that turned her thoughts hazy and distant. She was going to faint, she realized with dim surprise.

“Look, this isn’t personal,” the man said, his voice soft like it was fighting to reach her through the fog of pain surrounding her. Cece stared dumbly at the switchblade the man now held.

“I’ll make it quick for you, yeah?” the man said. “Just one fast,” he made a jabbing motion with the blade in the frosty air, “to the chest, and it’ll all be over.”

Cece gasped for air, the tears freezing on her cheeks, as the man grinned at her. “It’s not personal,” he repeated. “Now, just relax, and this will all be over in -”

The low predatory growl behind him made him freeze in place. He stared at Cece before releasing her and shoving her back. She cried out, her feet slipping on the snow and ice. She went down hard, her elbow smashing into the pavement and her hip taking the brunt of her fall.

The man turned, his body tense, and the switchblade raised in front of him. He stared at the giant of a man standing behind him. “What the fuck, dude? I thought you were a goddamn bear the way you growled. Get the fuck out of here, this doesn’t concern you.”

When the giant didn’t move, the man pointed the blade at him. “Are you fucking deaf? Get the fuck out of here before I…”

His voice died in a faint whispery moan when the man grinned at him. The streetlights provided plenty of light to show off his long and wickedly sharp canine teeth.

“Oh fuck,” the man said before dropping the knife and bolting down the side street, his feet slipping and sliding in the snow.

Cece stared at the man standing before her. She recognized him. How could she not when she’d had his tongue in her mouth and his hand in her pants?

Let’s do that again , her inner voice said gleefully.

“It’s you,” she said. “Briggs.”

He didn’t reply and made no move to help her up. Probably for the best, considering she’d nearly crushed him with a tree the last time he touched her.

“Cece?” Willow peeked around Briggs’s massive body, concern all over her face. “Honey, are you okay?”