Wolf Marked (Magic Side: Wolf Bound Book 1)

Jaxson

We left Eclipse through the back. My rental truck was parked in the alley, and I didn’t want Regina or Billy or Sam wondering where we were going. My inner circle had been asking too many questions lately, and it was getting to the point that I would have to shut them down.

It was better to be discreet. Tensions throughout the pack were high, and parading around with the LaSalle woman wasn’t helping matters.

Savannah was a crucial asset. She could scry, she could draw, and there was a possibility I could exploit her connections with her family. She’d already procured a scrying potion, after all. But she was also in far more danger than I’d originally thought and become a major liability. It was on me to rectify that.

I probably couldn’t teach her to fight well enough to save her life, but I could help her run. A pair of enchanted boots would give her the speed she needed to get away.

Savannah climbed into the front seat. My gaze gravitated downward, and I couldn’t help but notice her legs in those high-cut shorts. She had legs for days and was fast for a human. The boots I had in mind would enhance her natural abilities—heck, she might even be able to keep up with me.

I wanted to chase her. To hunt her.

Something about that image sent heat through me, and I scowled. To her, I was a monster, no different than the demon we’d killed. She wouldn’t understand the chase.

Savannah was scrutinizing me closely, mildly annoyed. “Listen, if you’re too busy to take me wherever it is we’re going, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. I’ve handled myself well enough so far.”

“You can’t count on luck,” I replied, putting the truck in gear. “This trip won’t take long.”

She huffed, and I sensed her disbelief as I pulled onto the main street that fronted Eclipse. Sometimes, she was intolerable.

As we passed my auto body shop, a slight smile tugged at her lips, and I suspected she was pleased with herself after her raid the other night.

For all her protests, she liked to play games, too.

My wolf liked that.

Savannah glanced at the signposts as we drove through the intersection. “So, the LaSalles are forbidden from entering your territory. Where, exactly, does your pack land begin?”

“Now you’re interested in where you should and shouldn’t go? Good. We generally claim everything up to 73rd. After that, you’re in the Indies and on your own.”

“Great. Just trying to figure out where I don’t belong.”

I looked over. “Billy got under your skin after all, huh?”

She shrugged.

“You handled yourself well. He has good reasons for hating your family, as Sam mentioned, but he’ll keep his claws in check.”

Savannah’s cheeks flushed red, and she averted her eyes.

I grinned. If she’d had any doubts that I’d overheard everything in the bar, those were now gone. The next part of that conversation had been particularly interesting…and Savannah, whose thoughts had apparently drifted in that direction as well, was quite embarrassed but a little aroused nonetheless. That was gratifying after the hell she’d put me through last night.

The scents of her desire and mortification were intoxicating, and it was easy to imagine her fucking me. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. She was a LaSalle. Besides, in her eyes, I was just another murderous monster.

Time to shift the subject.

“Over that way is Avery’s Point.” I gestured to the wooded area on the right. “That’s one of the few forests on the island where we can shift and run our wolves.” Slowing, I turned into the Flats. “The largest wooded area in Magic Side stretches south from Exposition Park and crosses into the Indies, your family’s territory. It’s not ideal, but it’s been that way since the island was founded.”

And yet another source of conflict between the pack and the LaSalles.

Savannah nodded but said nothing as we pulled onto the main drag of Market Street. I watched with curiosity as she took in the dozen or so storefronts, all specializing in different things—D’s Witchcraft and Wizardry, Pure Potions, and a store called Updos with fancy wigs floating in the window. Her eyes rounded, and I could smell her excitement. “What is this place?” she asked.

“Market Street. The best place to find random stuff.” I parked in front of Donahue’s Hardware and Alchemical Supplies.

She turned to me with a look of confusion. “What are we doing here? Buying a magic hammer?”

“First, you need some new boots. You’re too slow and need to run faster.” Again, my eyes drifted to her long, lean legs.

Irritation colored her face. “I’ll have you know I was the state champ in the four-hundred-meter in track. I am fast, just not four-legged fast.”

A track champ. So that explained her speed—she was a natural.

“We’ll have to do something about that,” I replied.

She scowled at me. “What do you suggest, I grow an extra pair of legs?”

“That idea hadn’t crossed my mind.” I lifted my brows. “Why don’t we start with boots?”

To my surprise, she shrank against the door. “Did you just flippantly imply that you could turn me into a werewolf? Are you infectious or something?”

I snarled at the impudent woman. “Lycanthropy is extremely rare. Maybe one in ten thousand wolves have the gene to pass it on. I could bite you a hundred times, and you’d be fine. If slightly tender.” She definitely needed a good nip.

Savannah raised her hands defensively. “I didn’t mean to offend. Just wondering if I should be worried. And please don’t bite me.”

Savannah would make a terrible wolf. Disobedient, hot-headed, infuriating.

“You have nothing to worry about,” I said gruffly, swallowing my irritation.

“Good.” She averted her eyes, and I sensed her relief.

I opened the door and stepped onto the sidewalk. “You did look nice in that wolf mask, if it’s any consolation.”

She snorted and slid out of the truck. “Not really.”

A woman stepped out of Updos with a hairstyle that looked like an intricate bird’s nest. Savannah did a double take when a live bluebird poked its head up from inside. “Wow.”

“The things women do for beauty these days, I’ll never understand.”

It was true—real beauty was natural. Before I could stop myself, I glanced at Savannah.

“What now?” she asked, noticing my roving eyes.

I cleared my throat. “Nothing.”

We walked down the street in silence. I relished the quiet as Savannah took in the sights around her. We passed an eyeglass shop that sold night-vision contact lenses, then a clothing store with dresses that flashed different colors in the window. I stopped in front of The Cordwainer’s Curiosities. “And here we are.”

Like its neighbors, the store’s window held a selection of its wares—in this case, the finest shoes on offer. Rather than sitting on pedestals or boxes, however, each pair was levitating and engaged in some fashion of movement in place. The tennis shoes were jogging, the red flamenco heels stamped in a rhythmic dance, and the black stilettos sashayed like they were walking down a catwalk.

Savannah shot me a wide smile. “Magic shoes?”

“I told you you’re too slow.”

She rolled her eyes but stepped through the front door with a spring I hadn’t seen since we entered the Fair the night before. I couldn’t stop my smile as I followed her in.

Shelves of floating shoes filled every space along the walls, and Savannah’s eyes landed on a pair of bright pink platform heels that were on display in the center of the shop.

“Ah, welcome.” A stout, bald man appeared from out of a back room. He adjusted the apron tied around his front and flamboyantly gestured to the pink heels. “The new line from Andrea Todorova. Gorgeous, aren’t they? You can walk miles in them, and they’ll feel like you’re dancing over clouds.”

“Seriously? They’re gorgeous.” Savannah ran her fingers over the smooth leather.

I could easily imagine how those might look on her as she moved around a stage, her hair flying behind her.

Hair like flames.

She was an asset. That was all.

“We’re in the market for a pair of running boots,” I said, my voice rough.

The shopkeeper glanced at Savannah, then cast me a look over his glasses, and recognition dawned on his face. “I see. For the slow-footed.”

Savannah shot me a deadly expression, and I forced a grin. “Exactly.”

“A pair of Swiftleys might do.” The shopkeeper waved his hand dismissively at her feet. “Could you remove…those things? For a fitting.”

With a sigh, she shucked off her old tennis shoes and plopped down on a bench. The little man slipped out a long wooden wand and touched it to her right toe.

He closed his eyes. “What would you like? What fits, hmm?”

“Well, I’m generally a size nine,” she answered.

“I’m not talking to you,” the man muttered.

“Then who—’

“Your feet. I think it only makes sense to get their opinion on the matter.” He touched the wand to her left foot and nodded, apparently listening intently. Savannah gaped, but without another word, the shopkeeper disappeared in the back.

“Was that for real?” she asked me, her eyes wide.

“Honestly, I have no idea, but I wouldn’t get a fit anywhere else.”

The bald man returned a minute later with a pair of black biker boots made of smooth leather with a buckle over the front and a one-inch heel. Savannah slid her feet into the boots and moaned, then circled the store twice. I could sense her joy. She’d witnessed unimaginable horrors in the past week, yet somehow, was still capable of experiencing delight.

She was strong hearted.

Savannah grinned. “These are amazing.”

Watching her reaction to this new world was like seeing everything for the first time. A broad smile slowly spread across my face. “Just wait until you run in them.”

“Can I really run in biker boots?”

The bald man made an irritated squeak and threw up his hands. “Of course you can. They’re Swiftleys. It’s literally what they’re for! Why else would I bring them to you?”

She tensed and seemed about ready to dig into the man, but then she shook her head and turned her attention back to the boots with unabashed adoration in her eyes. “How fast can I go?”

“I cruise around forty miles an hour,” I replied, “so that’s your benchmark.”

Her eyes widened. “Holy crap, that would easily double my speed at a sprint.”

A glimmer of concern drifted into my mind. She’d need to be faster than me to outrun the rogue wolves. They must have been using some kind of enchantment or physical enhancement as well. I needed to know more.

As she admired the boots, doubt clouded her face. “How much—”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I like the thought of you keeping up. Who knows, maybe you’ll be my match.”