Her Werewolf Hero

“So you think your boyfriend...?” Bron asked.

She shrugged. “Maybe? All this just came to me earlier when I was standing outside the motel. I mean, I never thought Purgatory would be open to Keith. He’s not very deserving of anything but Hell.”

“Has he ever killed, maimed, committed a mortal sin?”

“I don’t think so. Oh, I’m sure not. His bark was always worse than his bite.”

“Then who are you to judge where his soul was capable of going upon death?”

“I’m not judging, I’m—” Angry that Bron seemed to be accusing her of something. Kizzy stared out the window, no longer interested in the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Hadn’t he the capacity to sympathize with her?

“The ways of the soul are something we can never know,” he offered peacefully. “And I didn’t mean to sound as if I was judging you, Kisanthra. I do think it a possibility that man’s soul clutched your heart in death. You said he’d told you he’d never let you go?”

She nodded. How creepy to think that her boyfriend had been so obsessed with her that even in death he had tried to possess her?

“You think it could be Keith’s handprint on my heart? Does that mean we’re still connected somehow? How long does a soul stay in Purgatory? This is even weirder than vampires. It’s freaking me out, Bron.”

He clasped her hand, and she met his soulful blue eyes. Hero eyes. Eyes that showed more compassion than he was probably comfortable physically showing. And why all of a sudden did she crave that physical connection from him? If she could have leaned across the table and pulled him into a hug, she would have.

“I don’t think he can cause you any more grief,” he said. “It’s the living creatures who might like to get their hands on an entrance to Purgatory of which you have to be cautious.”

“That’s so not reassuring.” He smiled and that lightened her heavy heart, and she laughed terribly. “Promise you won’t leave me alone until it’s clear I’m not in danger?”

He nodded. “I give you my word.”

“Yes, you’ve said that. But how can I know if your word is good?”

He pushed the untouched plate of boysenberry pie toward her. “I’ll offer you the last piece as a sign of good will.”

She chuckled and dug into the rich purple dessert. “Pie does cover a world of aches and pains.”

“Thanks for telling me about your accident and the relationship with your former lover, Kisanthra. It may indeed provide some help with this mission, though at the moment I’m not sure how.”

Now she laid her hand over his. “I prefer Kizzy.”

He winced. “It sounds so...”

“You’re a little old-fashioned, aren’t you?”

He shrugged. “Guilty. These young, strange names are too modern for my tastes.”

“Seriously? You’re not that old.”

“Yes, but— It’s beautiful. I will give Kizzy a try.”

“It’s easy. Like fizzy or tizzy or dizzy. Should we see if they have to-go cups, so we can take more coffee with us for the drive?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Off to adventure,” she said. “Do you have an extra stake?”

His raised his eyebrow and waited for the punch line.

“I should probably practice my thrust and stab while we’re driving.”

“I’d expect nothing less from you. I’ll see what I have.”

Chapter 6

Bron tossed the broken tracking device into the garbage can outside the gas station. He’d forgotten to throw it at the truck stop, and twenty miles later Kisanthra—Kizzy—had him pull over to use the restroom, so it was a good thing he’d remembered it now.

An antiques store across the highway beckoned with red flags fluttering at the four corners of the old barn building. Kizzy had said she’d like to check it out. And he’d agreed. He didn’t mind sorting through antiques. It was a kick to recognize the things he’d once used in daily life. And they weren’t in a rush. Unfortunately, they had time to waste as he waited to see what might come after Kizzy.

His eyes tracked the sky, seeking any sort of flying creature that may have had a bead on the tracker, broken or otherwise. He didn’t know how witch magic worked, but the fact it had led him to her meant it was so powerful that it probably could still function even after the crystal device had been broken.

Could he take her home and walk away? He didn’t think it was going to be that easy. And that wasn’t any kind of emotional thing. He just had no way of knowing she could be safe.

Her dead boyfriend had actually clutched her heart from Purgatory while she lay dead on the operating-room table. How bizarre was that? But he believed her. She’d had dreams. Had said the doctor had remarked on the weird scarring he’d noticed on her heart.

No doubt about it, Kisanthra Lewis owned the Purgatory Heart.

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