Chapter 8

Dallas and Rhys didn’t have to walk far to look at their first designated garden plot. It only took twenty minutes on foot to make it to the neighborhood. Rhys had offered to fly them to the rest of the potential plots around the city, but Dallas wasn’t sure how comfortable she felt with that. Riding on a dragon—who was not her pet—was a big deal in the supernatural world. It surprised her that he’d offered at all. Still, it made her feel uncomfortable and she wasn’t sure why.

That wasn’t true. Maybe it was because there was underlying weirdness between them. She could tell he didn’t trust her so the fact that he’d offered to let her ride him was, well, weird. Maybe it had to do with more of those shifter things she didn’t understand. He might have offered because King had ordered him to.

“This place is fantastic,” she murmured as they stepped through open gates into a huge yard that surrounded a mansion very similar to the one they were staying in. “Who lives here?”

“A vampire coven used to live here,” he said shortly, his gaze tracking over all the overgrown foliage.

She barely glanced at the huge mansion, not really concerned with it, not when there was so much lush greenery here. There was enough room for a decent-sized greenhouse and open areas of lawn where she could plant a bundle of trees. If she used her magic, the trees and other plants would be able to grow at a rapid rate and start producing earlier than normal. It often took a few years for fruit trees to even bloom or produce, but she’d always adhered to her own gardening rules. She’d been born with the gift of helping things thrive and grow, so she used it and injected all the kindness and happiness into her projects that she could.

Next to her Rhys was a statue, his body still in that way shifters could be.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Yes. Why?” He didn’t look at her, just continued scanning as if there was a threat behind the walls of the mansion. Maybe he sensed something she didn’t.

She lifted a shoulder as they walked through the calf-high grass. “You and Axel were kind of weird with each other this morning.” Though for all Dallas knew that was normal behavior for the two of them. She really didn’t have much of an example to go on since she’d only seen their interaction once before.

Rhys snorted, the sound kind of at odds with the serious dragon shifter. “Axel’s a jackass.”

“I don’t know, he seems pretty nice to me.”

He shot her an annoyed look, his gaze landing on her mouth for a moment before he quickly looked away.

She blinked, wondering if that little spark she’d seen had been her imagination. “Are dragons and lions at odds with each other?”

“Nope. Just me and Axel.”

Huh. Okay, then. Clearly he wasn’t going to give her more, so she let the subject drop. She had no interest in shifter politics…or whatever was going on between them.

As they reached an area where a cluster of hydrangea shrubs circled a huge oak tree, she reached down and slid her fingers into the soil. Sending out a tiny pulse of magic, she felt how rich this area was. Yes, they could grow a lot here and in the surrounding areas.

On impulse, she sent out another burst of magic over the shrubs and gorgeous hydrangeas blossomed, purple flowers covering the previously green leaves. The burst of color surrounding the tree stood out against the green backdrop of the yard and just the sight of it made her heart smile. This would only last twenty-four hours, then they would recede and only come out in a few months when they were supposed to. For now, however, they got to shine.

“What kind of magic are you using?” Rhys snapped suddenly, making her jerk.

Startled, she realized he was glaring down at her.

Withdrawing her hand from the dirt, she wiped her hands off on her jeans and stood, looking up at him, a thread of worry winding its way through her blood. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” he muttered before stalking away, quickly putting distance between them.

Dallas wasn’t going to deal with some weird hot-and-cold attitude. Instead of letting him walk away, she hurried after him and grabbed his forearm. “Seriously, what’s going on? Don’t say nothing, because that insults me and it’s just plain annoying. I’m only doing what was asked of me. If you’re going to act like this, then I’m going to request that someone else escort me around the city. I’m sure Axel won’t mind.” He’d seemed eager to come out with them today and right about now she wished she had a buffer in the form of a friendly lion shifter.

Rhys turned to her and didn’t pull away from her hold. “You’re a witch,” he finally said, each word clipped.

She let her hand drop at the way he said the word witch, because she realized he was just like everyone else. “Oh, I see. You just judge me for what I am. I get it. Trust me.” She was unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Normally she could go full-on neutral and pretend she didn’t care what others thought of her. Because she’d convinced herself that she didn’t. That it didn’t hurt every single time she thought she’d found a friend, only to have them decide she wasn’t worth it once they discovered she was a witch. It was why she now told people what she was up front—saved her a lot of heartache.

Turned out he was just another asshole. It shouldn’t hurt, but for some reason it punched deep. Probably because she was attracted to him, so that just made his judgment and rejection all the more upsetting.

Not wanting him to see how much he’d hurt her, she turned away and closed her eyes. Then she took a deep, steadying breath to center herself. When she opened her eyes he was standing in front of her. Dallas took a startled step back then, surprised by how quietly he moved.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Being around you…made me realize that…I have made some inaccurate judgments.”

“Whatever,” she muttered. “I’m going to ask King to assign someone else to me.”

“A witch killed my sister,” he suddenly blurted.

Surprise punched through her. “What?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets but held her gaze. “A long time ago, thousands of years, in fact, a witch murdered my sister. She entrapped her, using their friendship, then drained her blood for immortality. She tortured her and didn’t stop until my sister was nothing but bones.”

“Blood magic,” Dallas whispered, suddenly cold inside. She abhorred blood magic. It could actually be used by humans as well as natural witches. It was dark, unsavory, and very, very dangerous. It could open dangerous doors or portals to Hell realms, even to Hell itself. And…other places. For a witch to be able to ensnare a dragon…she must be powerful.

Jaw tight, he nodded.

“I’m sorry about your sister.” No wonder he didn’t like witches.

“I am too. Her name was Eilidh… I’m still hunting for her killer.”

Understanding dawned inside her. “Is that why you’re here in New Orleans?” Because she’d been wondering why he was away from his whole family, in the city, under an Alpha who was not his own. It didn’t make sense. Not when such clear power rolled off him in waves. This male could easily run his own territory if he chose. Not that he seemed to have any inclination to do so, but still.

“Yes. Though King doesn’t actually know that. He never outright asked me, so I never told him. My brother informed him that I would obey any rules while I was in his city and help out where needed, so King gave me passage.”

“Exactly how long ago was she killed?”

“Long before you were born, little witch.” The last two words, which could have sounded condescending, just came out exhausted. “Thousands and thousands of years ago. So long I can’t give an exact date. I went into Hibernation when I couldn’t find her killer. I stopped sensing her, I guess, is the only way to put it. It was like she winked out of existence, sort of like dragons do when they go into Hibernation. Once I couldn’t sense that monster anymore, everything seemed pointless. But since I’ve woken from my Hibernation, I know she’s out there. I can feel her.”

She nodded once. “If she killed your sister for her blood, then it stands to reason you’re sensing your sister’s blood in her veins.”

“I know. The witch’s name was Catta.”

Dallas went stock-still, unable to hide her reaction.

Rhys’s dark blue eyes narrowed on her as everything between them faded away. His stare was heavy, almost accusing. “You know her?”

“I know—or knew—a witch who went by the name long before I was born. It might not be the same witch, however.” Though something told Dallas that it was. Because Catta was an evil monster. She was part of the reason Dallas had run from her very first coven over two decades ago. She’d started to see the truth behind the curtain of lies Catta had erected.

He stared down at her long and hard. “Where is she now?”

“I honestly don’t know.” And he would be able to scent the truth on her. “I left her coven long ago.”

His eyes widened slightly. “You were part of her coven?”

“I was. I left when I realized how evil she was.” More truth.

“I need details about her,” he snapped out, his muscles pulled taut.

She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly unsure. “What will you do when you find her?” She already knew the answer, but wanted it confirmed.

“Kill her.” Two simple words, spoken with lifetimes of rage and pain.

Dallas had never been a violent person but she actually found herself nodding as if to say she understood. Because she did. Catta was true evil—though she masked it, making everyone think she was all light and sunshine, that she cared about the world. She’d pretty much written the book on how to gaslight. Dallas wondered if she even bothered to hide her true self anymore. When she’d escaped her coven, the members had all been turning dark—assuming their worst selves. If that was true now, then Catta had no reason to hide who she was.

Dallas turned away from him, scanning the yard again as thoughts turned over in her mind. “I’ll help you find her,” she finally said. She shouldn’t help him—Catta was too powerful, too old. Goddess, she was ancient, just like this male in front of her. But what Catta had done was evil and wrong. Rhys and his family had suffered a horrific, senseless loss. They deserved justice. And peace. So did all of Catta’s victims.

Next to her Rhys sucked in a breath. “Seriously?” There was so much hope in his voice it sliced at her.

She didn’t turn to look up at him, however. But she felt his gaze on her face as she continued. “As soon as I’m done helping King, yes. I don’t know how much help I can be. I left her coven decades ago. Out in Washington. I have no idea if they’re still around or if they disbanded. I never kept tabs on her, so I can’t give you details. But I can put out some feelers and see what I get back.” Though it scared her to ask about Catta, Dallas would do it. When she’d run, she’d cut all ties.

His big, callused fingers skated down her arm gently for the briefest of moments, just a barely there touch that sent a cascade of sparks bursting inside her. “Thank you,” he rasped out.

She took a step away from him, even though her instinct was to comfort him, to ease his suffering. That was just the healer part of her nature. But he didn’t care for her kind and she wasn’t helping him for any reason other than it was the right thing to do. “We need to finish scouting the rest of the areas King wants me to look at. Then I need to go see someone downtown. You don’t need to come with me.”

“Who?”

“A human named Thurman. But most people just call him the Magic Man.”

“I’m going with you.”

She wanted to tell him not to bother but instead pulled out her notepad and made some notes about this area and the many things that King could do with it. When she was working on something, she was able to compartmentalize. Right now she needed to not think about Catta or even the sexy, angry male who was standing right next to her.

Ignoring him, she made a note to question whether or not King was going to tear down the mansion, but she hoped he didn’t. The place was gorgeous and it was another area for people to live. Safe housing was in short supply since so many had been displaced after The Fall.

“Dallas,” Rhys said gently, pulling her from her note-taking.

She looked up at him and saw a myriad of emotions in his gaze. “What?”

“I didn’t mean to insult you before. And I am sorry for… I’m just sorry. For my anger. For…everything,” he rasped out, anguish in his eyes. “I’ve been angry and bitter for a long time.”

An image of him playing with Willow in the yard that morning was the only thing that dispelled some of the anger—and hurt—inside her. He’d been hurt by a witch, deeply and in such a way that it had changed the entire trajectory of his life. If his sister had been murdered thousands of years ago, then he’d been carrying that rage for a very long time. Even into his Hibernation, it seemed. Something like that could change a person, reshape them. Still, it didn’t make it right for him to judge an entire group of people based on the actions of one.

She simply nodded. “Okay.” That was all she had to say for now.

Especially since she had another secret—one she wasn’t sure how he’d handle if he found out about it. She didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth yet.

Didn’t trust him not to use the knowledge against her if he found out that the witch he wanted to kill was her mother.