Page 23 of Gemini Hunted (Dark Witch Academy #5)

Anyone who even grazes that rusty thing’s jagged steel jaws is gonna need like five tetanus shots. I suppress a shiver and edge warily around the barbaric device.

“Oh my gosh,” Neo moans. “ Lucius. I really hope his wolf watches where he’s stepping.”

“Lucius Aries is far too canny to step into a mantrap,” Max says stoutly. “We will find him ahead at the domus , just as we arranged.”

I sure hope so. Because what if we don’t? I think but don’t say.

Although thinking is basically the same as speaking in a telepathic harem, unless I deliberately guard my thoughts. Which I don’t like doing from my guys. We’ve had enough secrets, including this latest one with V summoning Mordred, to do real damage to the trust factor in this harem.

I mean, not that Mordred’s in the harem.

He definitely isn’t.

Mordred is just a temporary thing.

Even if he ended up sleeping at the foot of our bed last night—basically lying across everyone’s feet (minus his trident) because he really wanted to stay with us and I didn’t have the heart to send him away—while Zephyr and Ash pointedly slept on deck.

Which was as far from the demon—and V—as Zephyr could physically get without actually leaving the boat.

So, yeah, we’ve got a few trust holes to patch up.

Over the patter of rain against the canopy, my sharp shifter ears catch the tiny krich! of a snapped twig.

Ronin’s fist shoots up in the silent signal to freeze.

We all go rigid.

Max places himself between me and V and drops to a defensive crouch. Lean and lethal in his battered leather biker jacket, blond hair twisted into a braid that bares his ruthless Russian face, he’s gone full alpha guarding both V and me.

Electricity crackles through my body and sends violet sparks dancing down my fingers.

I lower the cat carrier gently to the ground and palm the stiletto that’s strapped to my thigh, because you better believe I’m wearing my catsuit and not my schoolgirl uni for this heist.

Feeling way better with cold steel in my grip, I breathe in deep, trying to sift through the sharp piney scent of evergreen, the damp green smell of moss, and the heady cocktail of pheromones from my various mates.

Beside me, Vasili lets out a low hiss.

Whatever it is that’s coming, clearly, he’s getting a whiff before I do. His feet lift from the ground as he levitates, shooting fifteen feet into the air. There he hovers in silent threat.

For him, that’s an intimidation display, like a cobra rearing to spread its hood.

Ronin leaps lithely to catch a low-hanging branch and swings himself into a tree with catlike grace. In a blink, he’s hidden from view.

Zephyr’s crossed swords flash free in his grip. The silver-feathered splendor of Ash’s wings sprouts from his shoulders, around the doeskin vest that’s cut to accommodate his wingspan. The two Fae pivot back to back, in the easy rhythm of two guys who’ve been guarding each other’s backs forever.

And Mordred? That demon holds out a hand like Thor calling his hammer in an Avengers film. His three-pronged trident literally materializes in his fist.

As for Neo, my fated mate stands protectively over the kitten in my duffel.

For the longest ten seconds of my entire fucking life, we all wait in prickly silence.

Then a lean shadow slinks from the trees.

It’s bipedal, I mean the thing walks like a man and it’s wearing pants.

But its head is a long wolfish snout filled with wicked fangs.

Curling black talons sprout from twisted hands and velociraptor feet.

Bristly black fur covers its wiry torso.

Inky dreads, threaded with colorful beads and juju, part around wolfish ears and swing around its slinking frame.

That wolf is… not Lucius.

“By the moon,” Zephyr breathes. “What manner of foul creature…?”

Neo pushes his glasses up his nose, then unexpectedly steps forward. “It’s a loup-garou . Cajun werewolf. I think that’s Mallory’s boyfriend. Hey, Jae Labête, is that you?”

The werewolf grins at him, long tongue sweeping over slavering fangs. Its eyes burn and pulse a wicked emerald green.

Fearless, our bookworm eases toward it, one cautious hand extended for the wolf to sniff.

“Neo Mercury, you be careful,” Max mutters.

A hum gathers in my throat. That’s the lightning voice. It’s how I summon. But I don’t wanna do that shit and start hurling lightning, especially in these close quarters, unless I gotta.

The werewolf studies the approaching bookworm with its monstrous head tilted. Saliva drips from its terrifying jaws.

I glance up to find Vasili’s casting hand twitching as he hovers overhead. He’s Neo’s alpha as well as mine, and super protective. I know if that werewolf makes one wrong move, V will hurl the thing fifty feet through the air or crush the wolf like a beer can with his telekinesis.

I guess we’re all feeling a little twitchy.

“It’s okay, Jae.” Low and soothing, Neo weaves his bookworm magic and sidles toward the wolf, step by step. “Nobody hurt him, okay? He’s only half-sentient in this form. I mean, according to what I read in Zoology of Magical Creatures class.”

“The kiddo’s right,” Ash murmurs. “There’s no reasoning with ’em. When a loup-garou attacks, you gotta put him down like a mad dog. We sure that’s the loup-garou you know?”

“Precisely how many Cajun werewolves do you imagine this island contains?” Vasili says tartly. “They’re a critically endangered species.”

But my dominant alpha’s still levitating, which means he isn’t sure.

With alarming suddenness, the werewolf leaps. Mordred’s shoulder bunches and his brawny arm cocks. I barely grab the demon’s wrist in time to keep the wolf from getting a trident through its throat.

It’s the first time I’ve ever touched him.

Mordred.

He’s hot to the touch like any shifter, like placing your hand on a warm stove, barely far enough from the flame not to burn.

His skin is smooth as sin and his pulse leaps against my fingers.

My palm tingles with a rush of heat. A sound fills my head, like the ocean’s muted roar when you cup a seashell to your ear.

In the back of my mind, I register that Mordred’s ready to kill for one of my guys, even without a command from his summoner.

And that my silent command stops him in his tracks.

The werewolf bounds to a halt right in front of Neo and lowers its scary head to give my fated mate’s extended hand a good sniff.

“That’s a good boy, Jae.” Neo stands very still and repeats softly, “Nobody hurt him.”

Slowly I let my hand fall from Mordred’s wrist. I can’t look away from Neo, but I can feel the demon watching me.

“Your call, baby queen,” Mordred whispers. “You’re the head honcho. I’m just the hired help.”

That’s what V calls him. But it feels wrong.

The werewolf sniffs all along Neo’s hand, then gives his fingers a tentative lick.

For all I know, that wolf could be trying a taste before he tucks in for dinner.

Neo gives the wolf’s ears a cautious scratch, exactly the way he does with Lucius.

The werewolf grins at him, then spins away and bounds off the path we’ve been following to the edge of a sinister-looking thicket of untamed forest.

There he pauses to look back with his head tilted.

“He wants us to follow him off the trail,” Neo says happily. “Come on.”

“Oh, hells yeah. We’re gonna crush this contest.” Mordred’s trident vanishes in a blink. The demon forges ahead with Neo, blue hair swinging down his back and messenger bag thumping against his hip.

I guess he’s pretty eager to get rid of that Horn of Ceres and break the spell that binds him to his summoner.

When he does, that’ll be the end of this playful demon’s fleeting stay in our harem. Which I tell myself is totally a good thing, considering all the trouble he’s caused.

Right?

With a sigh, I sheath my stiletto and reclaim my cat carrier.

“The notion of blindly following that moon-fucked werewolf to his hidden den seems to me the very pinnacle of foolishness.” Zephyr sheathes his swords over his back, then grimaces as a dollop of rain from the water-laden branches smacks him in the forehead.

“But at least, I suppose, we’ll be out of the rain. ”

“Gotta say I won’t complain, Sparrow.” Ash retracts his wings, which fold across his shoulders and melt into the gorgeous pewter angel’s wing tattoo that spreads across his muscular back. “I’m too old to be running around in the woods.”

Sharp-faced and suspicious, Vasili floats after Neo like Tinkerbell flitting after Peter Pan, without bothering to descend. The glittery soles of V’s combat boots add to the general effect.

Clearly, my snake is still on edge.

Neo and the werewolf have nearly vanished in the trees when Ronin drops from his branch with a suddenness that makes the werewolf spin and snarl.

“Blooming hell, Red.” Ronin twists his inky ponytail into the careless man-bun thing he prefers when he fights, then strides toward the growly wolf and the dark thicket beyond with a grim expression.

“Best let me lead this cock-up, love. If anything sentient comes within a click, I’ll fucking sense it. ”

“What? Do we not trust the werewolf?” Mordred blinks back at me innocently.

I grimace and lift my shoulders in a kinda? that makes the demon cluck his tongue and make a reproachful face. “Whoa there. I feel like we maybe got ourselves a little bit of a trust issue around here. For real.”

Great.

Now even the demon can see it.