Page 12 of Untraced Magic (Cutters Cove Witches #1)

Tyler

Music thumped the walls of the staircase, crashing into my ears as I entered the basement. Dropping my shoulder against the wall, I watched as Wes beat the shit out of a boxing bag, never once stopping for breath.

What had his balls in a knot?

I turned down the music, just enough to let me hear my own thoughts and get his attention. It earned me a foul look before he slid back into his rhythm again.

Wes ignored me, continuing to pound the bag relentlessly as it swung wildly from an overhead beam. I took hold of it, and he pounded it against my shoulder, assaulting it with an onslaught of jabs before finally finishing with a roundhouse kick that sent it hard into my chest with a thud .

His bare chest heaved in air. You’d think for a guy who earned a living tattooing others, he’d be covered in ink himself, but not Wes. He had an artful hand but preferred his own skin unmarked.

I raised a brow at him. “You good?”

Backing off, he remained silent, drawing his forearm across his glistening hairline .

“You’re killing this thing,” I pushed.

He cracked his knuckles, turning away from me. “It’s nothing.”

I scoffed, steadying the bag. “It doesn’t look like nothing.”

He glared at me. “You don’t let up, do you?”

I narrowed my eyes at his sharp tone.

He slumped against the wall, tipping his head back, his chest gathering air. Moments passed as he stared at the ceiling before turning his gaze in my direction. “Something’s not right. My senses are off.”

He splayed out his fingers before the popping of his knuckles returned.

I eyed him curiously. “Off as in… how?”

“It’s hard to describe.” He paused, considering his next words. “I’m on edge but can’t sense why.”

He pushed off the wall to pace the room, raking his hands through his hair until they rested on the back of his neck.

He turned to face me. “It started when Morgan moved in.”

His intense gaze connected with mine, and my chest tightened uncomfortably. I knew the basics but was unsure of the intimate workings of Wes’s gift.

Pulling myself together, I shoved my hands in my pockets.

“Look, I don’t really get how this whole sensor thing works, but she seems genuinely human to me.”

Wes never doubted his gift, and it never let him down. If I was honest, his admission was really fucking unsettling.

“I know that. I’m just saying be careful,” he cautioned .

Wes held the bag against his own shoulder, and I set upon it, unleashing a fury of my own pent-up frustration. The bag heaved violently against his chest with each blow I fired at it, leaving my knuckles aching and raw.

Was Morgan really a wolf in sheep’s clothing? It wouldn’t be the first time someone had tried to pull the wool over our eyes, and it wouldn’t be the last.

He had to be wrong. Every inch of me told me he was wrong. Screamed at me, tearing at my eardrums.

Instinct was a venomous thing.

Deliberate and ruthless.

It held no grudges, made no assumptions.

A naked thing inside that stripped you of any connection or bias.

But Wes had never been wrong where his gift was concerned.

He stepped away from the bag, lines pressed into his forehead. “Are we good?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “It is what it is.” I hated that line with a passion, but it fitted the moment. “I don’t want to believe it, but you’ve never been wrong about this stuff before.”

He wiped at his hairline again. “You know I can’t help the vibes I get. It just happens.”

An awkward silence lazed between us.

“Let’s get out of here and head out tonight. It’s still early,” I said, hoping to break the mood.

He smirked, and I knew he was up for it. “Beers and boobs for the win, you reckon? ”

I stood up and clamped a hand onto his shoulder on the way past. “As you wish.”

We ventured upstairs, and I quickly showered, walking back down the hall with a towel wrapped around my waist.

Colt caught my eye from the kitchen where he leaned casually against the wall. “You rang?” He said with a smirk.

“Yeah.” I made my way into the room, flipped my thumb towards Wes. “He needs a night out.”

Wes hoisted himself until he sat on the counter, a half grin on his face. “And Ty’s blue balls need some attention.”

I laid a fist into his stomach on my way to the fridge and cracked open a beer.

“My blue balls are none of your business.”

Colt chuckled under his breath, eyeing me sideways. “Might find yourself a lady tonight, Ty,” he mused.

I threw him a beer, and he snapped the lid off with the opener. I hadn’t played around since losing Ava, but the digs were starting to come thick and fast.

Colt never gave me shit about women. He knew when to speak up and when to shut his mouth, so I knew he was being genuine. I veered my gaze to him with a shrug, his gaze following me across the room.

I clutched the frame of my bedroom door, turning to him.

“Blue balls or not, I don’t do one-night stands.

” I grimaced at the thought of getting laid with some drunk woman who I’d have to see around town again.

That and the fact it meant nothing was enough to keep my dick in my pants. I just couldn’t do casual .

“Who said anything about a one-night stand?” He tipped up his beer, still holding my gaze until his attention finally moved to something outside.

I ducked under my door frame to change into some jeans and a shirt.

There was no sarcasm or judgement behind Colt’s comment, and I knew he meant well. It was his way of telling me it was okay to move on, to start thinking of a life with someone else.

I eyed the photo of Ava sitting on my set of drawers, her sparkling orbs staring back at me, full of life.

Until recently, I hadn’t indulged in thoughts of another woman since Ava’s death.

To consider going to a bar in search of someone else felt really fucking wrong, and a problem I didn’t need the morning after just to get my dick wet.

But in the back of my mind, I knew I already had a problem. In the form of a human that kept me up until the early hours of the morning, with thoughts I couldn’t rid myself of.

I shook my head, clearing them.

Chasing women wasn’t my style, but a night out with the guys I could do with. Good banter, no bullshit, and no drama was what I needed.

I heard Wes yell from the kitchen, “Ty, can we take the van? It’s pissing down outside!”

“Yeah, just a minute!” I called back.

Grabbing my jacket, I followed the guys out of the house, sliding the door of the van open for Colt, who jumped in the back. I pulled out of the driveway with a grin on my face, listening to the banter between the two, happy for the distraction .

“Easy, dude, you’ve got a lot of shit back here!” I heard Colt yell from the back.

I adjusted the rearview mirror to find him and laughed at his sturdy frame balancing on a toolbox among the rest of my shit. His middle finger appeared in the rearview mirror, and I cheekily pumped the brakes just for his benefit.

“You could’ve walked, asshole,” I fired back with a grin.

Swinging the van into the parking lot, I cut the motor, throwing the side door open. Colt jumped out, rubbing his ass.

I slapped him on the back. “Toughen up. No one likes a pussy.”

“Speak for yourself.” Wes smirked, and I gave him a shove as we escaped from the rain inside.

Jinxed had a wicked vibe about it tonight, and I knew even I was not immune to the magic someone had charged the bar with this evening. It spilled its glamour everywhere, mostly in the way the patrons looked at each other, high on whatever emotion came up trumps for the evening.

Whether it be desire, love, or loathing, it filtered through the bar and our skin eagerly soaked it up.

It streaked through my veins and thumped into my lungs, scorching my nerves. My body willingly succumbed to it in an instant, ready for one hell of a ride.

“Suck that in,” said Colt above the music, feeling it too.

I eyed Wes at my side. These nights could be a bit much for him with his gift, a bar full of magic and emotions on steroids.

I gave his shoulder a nudge. “You good? ”

He shrugged my arm off. “Yep. Go get us a seat. I’ve got the first round.”

I followed Colt to a vacant booth, and we spread ourselves around, with Wes returning moments later with a handful of drinks.

“Looks like our neighbor got a job here,” he remarked, nodding to the other side of the room full of partygoers.

I followed his line of sight, instantly finding Morgan.

Behind the bar, dressed in a black tank, her bottom half was hidden from sight, and I’d bet money she was wearing those jeans again. From across the room, she held my stare, and the corner of her lips turned up into a subtle smile as she poured some guy with his back to us a drink.

I pulled my eyes from hers.

I’d told her she needed to stay away from me. But there she was, again . Appearing wherever I seemed to be these days. Not that it was hard in a small town, but fuck if I couldn’t catch a break from her.

Wes’s sarcasm stilled the table. “I think Morgie babe is keen to become the new blood donor in town.” He wrinkled his nose.

I ignored him, noting as he turned to the side the same guy at the bar she’d been dancing with the other night.

I couldn’t rip my eyes from them, a possessive claw itching my skin as she laughed at something he said.

Colt shifted in his seat. “How well do we know this Morgan woman?” he asked. His attention swerved from me, to Wes, and back again .

I gripped my glass tighter. “Wes thinks she’s not who she says she is,” I said evenly.

Colt’s eyes hardened to mine. “And what do you think?”

“I thought she was legit. But now I’m uncertain.”

Colt slowly spun his glass in circles on the table. “Well, whatever she is or isn’t, there’s a vampire on her tail, and we need to make a call here.”

Wes spoke first. “I bet she knows he’s a vampire. Some women dig that shit.”

My fist clenched tighter. “And what if she doesn’t? What if this whole vibe you’re getting is all wrong?” I challenged.

Colt’s drink landed on the table with a dull thud, earning our attention.