“Can’t. You’ll be fine. You have your guards there.” He nodded at the twins, who were watching him, round-eyed. “There are other people out in the world being hassled by Fae. I need to save them too. You have my number if you need me again.”

He pointed both forefingers at Misty, walked out the back door, slammed it, and headed down the porch steps. There was a flash of sunshine, and he was gone.

“Great.” Misty felt despair settle over her. “On my own again.”

“We’re with you, Aunt Misty,” Matt said. “You saved me. Now we’ll save you.”

They were adorable, both of them. Misty fetched a spoon and the last carton of ice cream in the freezer and sat down at the table with them. As the three of them reached with spoons for the chocolate marshmallow ripple, Misty opened the book. “All right, I’ll look through it. Again.”

Not until most of the carton was gone did Misty stop on a page. She pressed her hand to it, her heart beating faster. The spell read, How to Find Your Lost Love.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Graham danced aside as Oison struck, but the sword blade caught along Graham’s ribs and broke the skin. Oison ran for Dougal, who had slumped to the ground, but Graham dove over his nephew, protecting him. Like hell he’d let Oison take him.

Oison raised the sword again and drove it down into the place Graham had been shot. Graham shouted in pain, but he wouldn’t move—Oison wasn’t touching Dougal again with that blade.

But Graham wouldn’t let himself die, not yet. He needed to live so he could tell Misty how much he loved her. You woke me, he wanted to say. I’d been existing before. Surviving. With you, I learned about life again.

And about laughter. Misty was always smiling or laughing about something, finding the lightness in any subject. And talking. Goddess, the woman could talk. Her sweet voice had poured over him every time he’d been with her, soothing all the hurts in his soul. How could he have ever thought of not taking her as mate?

Oison raised the sword again. Graham roared as it came down, then he heaved himself up to meet it.

He noted with satisfaction Oison’s look of surprise. Graham was strong, stronger than any Shifter he knew, and Oison was going to find out just how strong.

The sword was in him, but Graham wrapped his hands around Oison’s throat. The Fae’s slim neck was sturdy, but Fae were of the same basic composition as Shifters or humans. They needed air to breathe, blood to flow through their bodies.

Graham pressed his fingers into Oison’s throat, cutting off the airflow. If he crushed the trachea, no more Oison. He hoped he could do it before his own breath ran out.

He thought he heard Misty’s voice calling his name. Graham!

Graham could barely see. He thought he heard the throb of a Harley, which wound him into memories. He and Dougal riding side by side, wind in their faces, charging down an empty Nevada highway as fast as they could go. Riding hard.

Other voices joined Misty’s. Eric. Diego and Xav. The wild yips of Kyle and Matt. Two small bodies whacked into Oison, and Graham lost his hold. Damn it.

Graham cracked open his eyes. Matt and Kyle were growling and snarling, climbing all over Oison. Graham seemed to see, superimposed on the cubs, two gigantic wolves, their muzzles huge, eyes red with fury. They were too thick of body and broad of chest to be regular Shifter wolves—these were something he’d never seen before.

Graham blinked, and they were the cubs again, tearing at Oison, who batted at them as though they were annoying gnats.

“Misty, no!” Xavier’s voice, and Misty charging past Xav, not listening. Typical. When Misty got the bit between her teeth, there was no stopping her.

Electricity crackled, and there was Misty, a Taser in her hand. “Matt, Kyle, out of the way.” The cubs turned to stare, yelped, and leapt to the ground. “Get away from my mate, ass**le,” Misty said clearly, and she shot a bolt of electricity into Oison.

Graham had to laugh to see the Fae jolt with the shot. Oison let go of the sword, but not before an arc had laced down the blade into Graham. Graham grunted and fell back, Dougal still beneath him.

Misty was crying, on her knees next to Graham. Graham had enough energy left to open his eyes, to lift his arm to reach for her.

Oison recovered—Fae were almost as tough to kill as Shifters. His black eyes like mouths to hell, Oison yanked the sword out of Graham, and swung it at Misty.

The cubs went crazy again, leaping at him. Xavier slid out his Sig, and aimed it at Oison, but he couldn’t shoot because he might hit the cubs.

Air popped, and Reid appeared, out of breath, filthy, his eyes as merciless as Oison’s. He shoved Oison away from Misty, and the sword blade went wide. Oison, furious, turned to face Reid.

The two Fae fought, Reid grappling with him for the sword, rage on his face. Xavier kept trying to aim, but he had no clear shot. Reid landed a hit across Oison’s face, drawing blood, but Oison backed up, his grip on his sword true again, and rammed the blade at Reid.

Graham heaved himself up. Blood ran from his wounds, and his Collar was shocking him, but the wolf in him gave him strength. He felt himself Shifting before he realized it, into his in-between beast, a monster that was half wolf, half human. Misty, instead of running away in terror, came to Graham and steadied him on his feet.

Graham roared. He grabbed Oison’s arm as his sword came down to Reid and ripped the blade away. As Oison spun to face him, Graham took the blade in both hands and broke it over his huge knee.