Damon's Enchantress by Alyssa Day

Author:Alyssa Day [Day, Alyssa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Holliday Publishing, LLC

6

Damon had to blow out a few deep breaths himself on the way to his car. His reaction to Lily’s meltdown had been intense—and instantaneous. The fierceness of his need to protect her had caught him off guard, and he’d been impressed as hell with how quickly she had recovered from what had clearly been a massively powerful spell. He’d seen terror spells in action before, but nothing like that. Nothing so strong that it could send a fire mage to her knees.

Bannon had money, so clearly he’d hired the best. Damon needed to put resources on the job of tracking which warlocks were unscrupulous enough to do business with scum like Harrison Bannon the Third and had recently come into a big whack of cash.

He popped the trunk lid on the car, which was actually an agency car that the local SAC had offered for his use. The Special Agent in Charge had also directed one of his people to stock the car with the basics: emergency gear, guns, ammunition, and survival gear. The sight of the gear made him grin at the memory of Zane’s phone call.

“I’m putting out a call for the best vest manufacturer in the business to make a bulletproof vest that will fit you when you’re in lion form,” Zane had said, in his best “Or Else” tone.

“Zane. I’m not going to stop and put on a vest when I’m shapeshifting. How would that even work? ‘Excuse me, Mr, Bad Guy, would you please help me into this vest? I’ll just put my left paw here…’”

“Shut up. We’re doing it. We’ll figure something out. You…you saved my life, today, man. You could have been killed. So cut out the damn heroics. And thanks again.”

“Shut up, yourself. How many times have you saved my life, Brain Boy? It’s the job. Get over it. Have Zenia make me some of her incredible chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies and we’re even, at least until the next time.”

Zane had laughed. “My life is only worth a batch of cookies?”

“They’re good cookies, Zane.”

Damon grabbed the sleeping bag and blanket, the duffel bag with his favorite weapons, and the bottle of excellent twenty-year-old Scotch he’d bought on the way from the airport, planning to drown his sorrows at having to deal with fragile, boring witches.

Assumptions, meet ass. There was nothing fragile or boring about Lily.

He tried to ignore the distracting wave of warmth that swept through him at the thought of her, but that was a lost cause, so instead he focused on scanning the area for any sight, scent, or feel of danger.

And found it.

The tiny yard surrounding her cottage was vibrating with dark energy. He couldn’t believe neither he nor Lily had felt it when they’d arrived back at the house after dinner, so either the terror spell had masked it, or the perpetrator had cloaked himself with some kind of don’t-see-me magic and then hung around waiting to see the results of his handiwork.

He—or she--was gone now,

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