Page 16

B ullseye

Bullseye pulled the Trans Am around to the back of the building, his body still humming with residual energy from Bertha's magical Red Bull concoction.

The potion had cleared his system hours ago, but he could still feel the aftereffects—heightened awareness, sharper reflexes, and an unsettling new sensitivity to Hazel's magical presence that made his skin tingle whenever she moved.

"Charming location," Hazel said, surveying the derelict surroundings. "Very 'secret rendezvous between outlaws.'"

"Snowman always did have a flair for the dramatic," Bullseye replied, though there was affection in his voice. "He says abandoned places have character."

"Character," Hopper croaked from his perch on the dashboard. "Right. Is that what we're calling 'probable tetanus infection' now?"

The white 18-wheeler was already there, parked behind the building like a sleeping giant. Steam still rose from its cooling system, and Bullseye could see Snowman's massive form moving around the trailer, apparently doing some kind of inspection.

"There's our boy," Bullseye said with satisfaction, pulling up beside the big rig.

But as they climbed out of the Trans Am, something felt different.

Wrong, somehow. There was a strange pulling sensation in his chest whenever he looked at Hazel, like an invisible thread connecting them.

And his magic—which had always been a quiet, steady presence—seemed to be reaching toward hers without his permission.

What the hell had that dragon done to them last night?

Snowman looked up from whatever he'd been examining and grinned. "Well, well. If it isn't the famous fugitives. You two look..." He paused, taking in their relaxed body language and the way Bullseye's hand automatically found Hazel's. "You look like you had a good night."

Heat rushed up Bullseye's neck. "We got some rest."

"I'll bet you did," Snowman said with obvious amusement. "That dragon lady's establishment has quite the reputation for... hospitality."

"Can we focus on the cargo?" Bullseye said, though the mention of last night was making that strange pulling sensation in his chest intensify. "How did the pickup go?"

Snowman's expression turned serious. "Smooth as silk. Big Scorcher and Little Sparky's LA warehouse is completely legitimate—all the proper permits, licensing, everything above board. They're legally allowed to manufacture and store this stuff in California."

"What kind of potions require that level of legitimacy?" Hazel asked, though something in her voice suggested she was starting to have suspicions.

"Want to see for yourself?" Snowman gestured toward the trailer. "Fair warning though—you might not like what you see."

He opened the trailer doors with a flourish, revealing rows upon rows of carefully secured crates. Each crate was marked with symbols that made Hazel suck in a sharp breath.

"Bond Buster," she breathed, her face going pale. "Oh goddess, you're smuggling Bond Buster."

Bullseye's stomach dropped. He'd been hoping she wouldn't recognize the dragon-script labels, that maybe he could get through this delivery without her ever knowing exactly what they were transporting.

"You know what it is," he said quietly, not a question.

"Of course I know what it is!" Hazel's voice was climbing toward hysteria. "Bond Buster is designed to permanently sever the magical connection between witches and their familiars!"

"Permanently?" Hopper croaked, his usual sarcasm replaced by genuine fear as he stared at the crates.

"As in forever," Hazel confirmed, her hands shaking. "One dose and the bond is gone. The familiar loses their enhanced intelligence, their ability to communicate, their magical connection to their witch. They basically become..." She swallowed hard. "Ordinary animals again."

The silence that followed was deafening. Bullseye could feel the mating bond between them thrumming with Hazel's growing horror and betrayal.

"You knew," she said slowly, turning to stare at him. "You knew what this was all along."

"Hazel—"

"Don't." Her voice was deadly quiet. "Don't you dare lie to me anymore. The dragons told you exactly what this was when they hired you, didn't they?"

Bullseye's jaw worked silently. Through the bond, he could feel her emotions shifting from shock to hurt to a rage so pure it made his own magic recoil.

"They did," he admitted finally. "Big Scorcher and Little Sparky told me it was Bond Buster. They told me what it does."

"And you took the job anyway." Her voice was flat, emotionless.

"It's just a cargo run—"

"It's not just anything!" Hazel exploded, her magic flaring bright around her. "This stuff destroys magical families! It turns familiars into mindless animals! And you knew that when you accepted their money!"

"The payout was too good to pass up," Bullseye said weakly.

"Too good to pass up," Hazel repeated, staring at him like she'd never seen him before. "You were willing to help dragons destroy thousands of magical bonds for money."

"It's not personal," Bullseye protested. "I don't make moral judgments about cargo. I just transport it."

"Not personal?" Hazel's laugh was bitter and sharp. "Bullseye, we have a magical bond. And Hopper and I have a familiar bond. How is that not personal?"

The mating bond between them was screaming with her anguish, and Bullseye felt like his chest was being ripped apart. But he forced himself to stand firm.

"Our bond is different," he said.

"How?" Hazel demanded. "How is our bond different from the thousands of witch-familiar pairs whose connections you're about to help shatter?"

"Because..." Bullseye struggled to find words that didn't make him sound like a complete monster. "Because it just is."

"Because you care about our bond, but not about theirs," Hazel said, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Because our magic matters to you, but everyone else's is expendable."

"That's not what I meant—"

"Yes, it is." Hazel's voice was getting quieter, which somehow made it more terrifying. "You've been lying to me this entire time. While we were falling in love, while we were forming a magical bond, while you were making me trust you—you knew exactly what cargo you were planning to deliver."

"I didn't lie," Bullseye said desperately. "I just didn't tell you the specifics."

"Oh, well that makes it so much better," Hopper said sarcastically. "Lying by omission while your mate falls in love with you. Very classy."

"You let me bond with you," Hazel continued, her magic crackling with fury. "You let me give you my heart, my body, my magical essence—all while knowing you were planning to help destroy the very type of connection we were forming."

The betrayal in her voice was like a knife to his gut. Through the bond, he could feel her pain as clearly as his own, but it was mixed with something worse—disgust. She was disgusted with him, disgusted with herself for trusting him, disgusted with the bond that connected them.

"It's not the same thing," he said again, but the words sounded hollow even to him.

"It's exactly the same thing!" Hazel shouted. "The bond between Hopper and me is just as real, just as important, just as sacred as the one between us! But you don't care about that because there's no money in protecting it!"

"I care—"

"No, you don't!" Hazel cut him off. "If you cared, you wouldn't be standing here defending your right to transport magical weapons designed to destroy families like ours!"

"They're potions, not weapons," Bullseye said weakly.

"POTIONS THAT DESTROY SOULS!" Hazel screamed, her magic exploding outward in a shower of sparks. "Do you have any idea what it would do to me if I lost Hopper? What it would do to him to lose his intelligence, his personality, his ability to be himself?"

"Hey now," Hopper said quietly, "let's not get carried away with the emotional declarations."

"I'm serious," Hazel said, tears streaming down her face. "Hopper isn't just my familiar. He's my best friend, my confidant, my family. Losing him would be like losing part of my soul."

The raw pain in her voice made Bullseye's chest tighten.

Through the bond, he could feel the depth of her love for the small green frog, the terror at the thought of losing him, the horror that the man she'd bonded with was willing to help make that nightmare a reality for thousands of other witches.

"But our bond," he said desperately. "What we have—"

"What we have," Hazel said, her voice cold as winter, "is built on lies. You let me fall in love with someone who doesn't exist."

"I exist," Bullseye protested. "Everything between us is real."

"Is it?" Hazel stared at him with eyes like green ice. "Because the man I thought I loved would never help dragons destroy magical families for money. The man I thought I loved would choose protecting innocent bonds over protecting his bank account."

"I'm still that man—"

"No," Hazel said with finality. "You're not. That man was just a fantasy I created in my head. The real you is standing right here, defending your right to profit from magical genocide."

"Magical genocide," Bullseye repeated, the words hitting him like physical blows. "That's not... I'm not..."

"You're not what? Not helping dragons commit magical genocide?" Hazel's voice was pure ice. "Because that's exactly what this is. The systematic destruction of magical bonds for political control."

"I didn't know it was for political control," Bullseye said desperately. "I thought it was just... I don't know, a business thing."

"A business thing." Hazel stared at him with complete disgust. "You thought helping dragons mass-produce familiar bond breaker was just a business thing."

"I try not to think about what clients do with their cargo," Bullseye admitted. "It makes the job easier."

"Easier," Hazel repeated. "Right. It's easier to transport magical WMDs when you don't think about the innocent victims."