The Keepers: Ethan. Rae Rivers
you’re going to spill!”
“If this harms one hair on Kate’s head, Declan –”
“I’m not afraid of Declan.” Sienna laughed, giving a dismissive wave of the hand. “He’s my Keeper. He’d never harm me.”
“Kate’s his woman.”
“Ooh, trump card. Clever.”
Another hiccup.
Jenna sent her a narrowed glance. “Didn’t you and Sarah once explode your grandmother’s kitchen or something?”
“A minor miscalculation.”
“Miscalculation? You blew up Rose’s kitchen! Give me that!” Jenna reached for the bottle, but Kate shifted out of her reach and tossed the liquid down her throat.
Jenna’s jaw dropped and they stared at each other in silence.
“You’re both looking at me as though I’m about to combust into a bearded lizard or something,” Kate whispered and then she laughed. A loud and hysterical laughter that escalated as though the potion had unleashed a giggling teenager.
Sienna grinned.
“They’re gone!” Kate said, sobering, and held out a hand for silence. No hiccups. Beaming, she gave Sienna a high five and they both burst out laughing.
They sounded so free, joyous: everything Jenna and the Bennett brothers fought so hard to preserve. It was contagious and by then, Jenna couldn’t hold back her smile.
Another sleepless night. Another nightmare.
Jenna sighed and opened the freezer, brightening when she saw the new tub of ice cream. Since Sienna had discovered Jenna’s weakness for mint ice cream she kept the freezer stocked with a steady supply.
Jenna grabbed a spoon, opened the tub, and hopped onto the counter. At the rate she was devouring her midnight stash, she was sure to gain a few extra pounds.
Hopefully, her morning training session with the guys would help to offset the damage.
She was on her fourth spoonful when she heard movement on the stairs. She tilted her head, spoon dangling above the ice cream, and waited, refusing to acknowledge the way her heartbeat had upped its rhythm.
Because it had nothing to do with the fact that those stairs led to Ethan’s room. Right?
He paused on the last step when he saw her. She hadn’t bothered with the lights, relying on the yellow glow from the patio light outside. Besides, she’d know her way around the kitchen blindfolded. Hell, she’d done this pyjama drill enough times.
His hair was ruffled, like he’d run his hands through it a dozen times. He wore a t-shirt that hugged the muscles in his chest and arms and cotton pants, the ones with a flimsy drawstring that hung low on the waist. Firm, athletic, tanned.
She swallowed, tasting mint.
He didn’t seem surprised to find her there but raised an eye at her midnight snack.
“Want some?” she asked, putting the spoon into her mouth.
A mild grin curled his lips and he crossed the room, stopping to grab a spoon out of the drawer. He scooted onto the counter beside her and reached for the ice cream. “Another dream?”
“Yeah. You?”
His brows creased but he didn’t ask her to elaborate. He probably knew she wouldn’t tell him anyway. He shook his head. “Work.”
“Figured so. Your hair’s a mess.”
“What’s my hair got to do with work?”
“You wear it neater than I do.” Grinning, she motioned to his hair with the spoon. “That spells all kinds of tossing and turning.”
His lips twitched in one of those half smiles she loved.
She refilled her spoon, trying to ignore the flutter inside triggered whenever she was alone with him – a sensation that had magnified since their tussle in the forest earlier. “You worried about the opening?”
“We’re as ready as can be,” he replied, in the quiet voice that always seemed to stir her senses. His frown grew deeper. “The town is still infested with crows. Nothing like what we experienced, but bad enough. They’re everywhere.”
“Shitty timing with the opening of the restaurant and the festival this weekend. The entire town will be there.”
And Hazel’s timing was no coincidence. Their enemies loved public events as it meant tons of witnesses, most of them unaware of the supernatural happenings right under their noses, so magic was on a tight rein.
Whilst Keepers and witches protected the secret of their magic, their enemies flaunted it in their determination to achieve their goals of power, exposure and control.
But Ethan couldn’t delay the opening of the restaurant any longer.
Jenna lowered her spoon and sighed. “There will be so many people there. The idea of taking Sienna and Kate out after what happened today –”
“We can’t keep them locked up.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“I know.”
Of course he did. He’d been protecting Sienna far longer than she’d been protecting Kate. But there was so much more at stake now.
She scrunched her nose. “As much as I love being a Keeper, it sometimes sucks big monkey balls, you know?”
His rumble of laughter reverberated across the room. “That about sums it up.” He laughed again and she smiled. Sobering, his gaze met hers. “We won’t let anything happen to them,” he said softly, his tone taking on a more serious edge. “To be honest, I wish Hazel would hurry the hell up and appear.”
His words didn’t surprise her. She knew how much he hated waiting for an attack. They all did, but for Ethan it was different. He’d grown tired of constantly being in defence mode, always primed in case their enemies showed up. Despite knowing that Archer would never agree to an attack, Ethan had tried everything to find Hazel. He’d grown impatient, frustrated, a side of him she hadn’t seen very often.
“A part of me is relieved she’s showing presence again,” Jenna said. “Her silence has been unnerving.”
“Damn right.”
The dark witch caster had been far too quiet ever since Jenna had rescued Kate from her in a New Orleans cemetery a few months ago. She’d almost lost Kate that night – an offering in one of Hazel’s sacrificial rituals. Hazel had intended using Kate’s blood to free her nephew, Mason Brogan, imprisoned and desiccating in an abandoned storage room on the Bennett estate. Once they’d harvested Kate’s blood, they would’ve killed her and scavenged her magic – a victory that would turn the war in Hazel’s favour.
But Jenna and Kate had escaped.
Ethan dumped his spoon into the tub, not surprising her. Talking about Hazel was always an appetite-killer. “Despite my search, my questions, no one will reveal where Hazel’s hiding. Even witches that side with us.”
“They’re afraid, Ethan. Hazel is all power and fear. Few people would dare cross her.”
“You did.”
“That’s different. I had Kate to protect.” She didn’t elaborate, didn’t have to. He’d put himself in danger countless times defending Sienna. Their witches, their lives, came first above all else. Even their own.
“Are you afraid?”
“When