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“I don’t see how,” Allegra Moss said in acid tones, “considering there are seven of us and only one of you.”

“About that….” he drawled, and from the clothing racks in the center of the store came five men and two women, all of them black-haired like their primus.

Shit. My mind raced, wondering how on earth we were going to get out of this without having a magical showdown right in the middle of Nordstrom Rack. Everyone in my group edged closer to me, clearly ready to do whatever it took to protect me from the clutches of the Wilcoxes.

“Ah, but you forget that you are all in my territory,” a new voice chimed in, and I looked past Damon Wilcox and his clan members to see a small woman with gray-streaked black hair and olive skin stop in the aisle just past us, her arms crossed over her chest. Behind her was a group of seven men, one of whom I realized I recognized. Alex Trujillo, Maya de la Paz’s grandson.

I’d never met her, but I knew at once she was the woman who now stared up at Damon Wilcox with the expression of someone who’d found a particularly disgusting species of cockroach infesting her pantry.

“You do not have my permission to be here,” she said clearly. “The McAllisters, they know how to follow the rules of propriety. I have allowed you and members of your clan here before, out of courtesy, but I see you do not give me that same courtesy. Leave, and do not expect to come back any time soon.”

His gaze shifted from her to the watching de la Paz men, then over to us McAllisters before coming to rest on me for a brief second. Another smile, and he said, “If I have offended, I do apologize.” He made the briefest of gestures toward his own clans people, then turned and moved past us, heading toward the front door. The other Wilcoxes fell in behind him. A minute later, they were gone.

I let out the breath I’d been holding. Maya de la Paz approached me and said, “Prima, I apologize for this intrusion. We were keeping watch, just in case, and it seems our caution was merited.”

“No need to apologize,” I said quickly. “Really, thank you for coming to help. That could’ve gotten…nasty.”

Her mouth twitched. “That one has been nasty for many years, I am afraid. I hope this will not deter you from your shopping. I will have the people from my clan stay with you and watch over you. I do not think the Wilcoxes will try anything again.”

More thanks bubbled to my lips, but she waved them off.

“It is the least I can do, when your visit has been trespassed upon. Please, finish your shopping.”

I turned back to Rachel and the others. “I was almost done, but — ”

“I think we’re all finished here,” she told me. “But we do appreciate the assistance during the rest of our trip.”

The sparkly earrings I’d chosen for Sydney had been dangling, unnoticed, from my hand this whole time, but when I turned around to retrieve the shopping bag full of the other items I’d selected, it was missing. I knew I’d set it down on the floor while I was going through the rack of earrings. But where had it gone?

I telegraphed my dismay to Aunt Rachel, but although she hunted around on the floor behind the other jewelry racks, she couldn’t find anything, either.

“Do you think the Wilcoxes took it?” I asked.

“I don’t see why they’d have a use for it — and I didn’t see any of them carrying any bags.” Her brow puckered in worry. “What are they up to?”

Goddess only knew, but I decided it wasn’t worth worrying about. Maybe it wasn’t the Wilcoxes at all. It was entirely possible that one of the store’s employees had seen the bag sitting there and thought it had been abandoned, and so picked it up in order to put away the items inside. No, I hadn’t seen anyone actually do that, but then again I’d been a little busy with Damon Wilcox and his goon squad.

Alex Trujillo fell into step beside me after I’d paid for Sydney’s earrings and headed toward the front door. “I see you’re still without a consort.”

“Obviously,” I snapped, “or none of this would have been necessary.”

His eyebrow lifted, and I hurried to apologize.

“Sorry…it’s been kind of tense lately, and that didn’t help.” I jerked the thumb of my free hand back toward the store.

“I understand.” The sun glinted off his dark hair as he shot a sympathetic look at me. “So where to next?”

“The Biltmore shopping center.” I paused and waited for Aunt Rachel to catch up to us. “Were we going to eat or shop first?”

Her expression was still grim. “I don’t feel much like either after that, but…a little shopping first, I suppose.”

“We can do the Apple store first and then decide if we’re ready to eat,” I said, and looked from her to Alex. “Sound like a plan?”

He nodded. “We’ll follow you.” A lift of his chin toward a large black Suburban parked a few spaces away. “That’s ours. Make sure you stick with us, and when you get to the parking garage, wait until we can get two spots next to each other, even if you have to go up a couple of levels.”

“Okay,” I replied, and despite everything, I had to smother a grin. Those tall, capable-looking warlocks in their black Suburban. They reminded me of the de la Paz version of the Secret Service or something. All they needed was some business suits and those little earpieces with the wires running into their collars.

The rest of our group was waiting at the van, just a few feet away. I relayed Alex’s instructions to Phil, and he said “okay” as we all piled in. Then we backed out of our parking space, waited a few seconds for the Suburban to do the same, and headed east toward our destination.

I had to hope the Wilcoxes wouldn’t have that staked out, too.

13
Settling

As we drove, though, instead of being worried or frightened, I found myself getting angry. Aunt Rachel had recognized Damon Wilcox at once, which meant she knew what he looked like. How that was possible, I didn’t know for sure. I’d heard his name, of course, but when I’d tried to do a little surreptitious Googling of him, I couldn’t find anything about him. Which didn’t make much sense, because one time when I was eavesdropping on a conversation between Tobias and my aunt, I overheard that he was a professor of some sort at Northern Pines University. Of what, I hadn’t been able to catch, but still, a professor generally has some sort of public profile. Maybe he’d done a magical scrub of Google to keep his information off it. If that were the case, he’d accomplished a lot more than any computer hacker I’d ever heard of.

While I ruminated on that and watched the sprawling shopping centers with their chain stores and restaurants pass by, I only felt my irritation increase. It wasn’t just that Aunt Rachel had never bothered to describe Damon Wilcox to me so that I could give him a wide berth if I ever met him. No, it was the way she hadn’t told me that marrying a warlock who wasn’t my consort would still be enough to protect me, even if such a union would forever bar me from developing my full powers. Or how she hadn’t bothered to mention the curse of the Wilcox clan and the true reason why I’d had my entire existence bounded by the relative safety of Jerome.

Margot Emory had said Rachel was trying to protect me, but I couldn’t see how not knowing the whole truth was of any benefit. All right, some of it might have been too frightening to tell a young girl, and waiting possibly served some purpose. But I was almost twenty-two now, and although I was sheltered in a lot of ways, I wasn’t completely innocent. Plenty of information to be had on the Internet if you needed to have your curiosity satisfied.

The bright sun and the palm trees blowing in the warm wind and the gleaming high-rises around us seemed incongruous when balanced against my brooding thoughts. It wasn’t the sort of place you expected to see a group of dark warlocks descend, that was for sure. Had they left, or were they still watching us, waiting to see if the de la Paz crew might leave us undefended at some point?

A chill went over me as I recalled Damon Wilcox’s hungry dark eyes, the way he had smiled so knowingly at me. Even the Verde Valley’s oldest virgin could figure out exactly what he wanted.

I didn’t know if I made a sound, or a sudden movement, but Aunt Rachel asked in worried tones, “Angela, are you all right?”

Of course I wasn’t. Not really. But I was angry at her, for all the things she’d hidden and hadn’t said. Angry as I was, though, this was not the place for me to blow up. True, everyone in the van was family, more or less. Even so, there was family, and then there was family. The things I wanted to say to her would have to wait until the two of us were alone together.

So I only shook my head and told her, “I’m fine. That was just…not something I was expecting. But I’m okay.”

Her expression was still dubious, but she appeared unwilling to press the issue. Instead, she gave a

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