PROLOGUE
May Day, Nineteen Months Ago
“Earth to Becca!”
Becca stood on The Point and let the roaring waters of the two rivers converging wash away every thought in her head. She breathed in the scent of the earth warming and the first flowers blooming.
She turned to see her cousin Charlotte hold up a bottle of fancy electrolyte water they sold at the family store to tourists and hikers. “Since you’re all healthy and going to use your one weekend off to go hiking, I didn’t bring the moonshine.”
“It’s eleven in the morning!”
“Are we going to do this?” her sister Goldie asked from her perch on one of the National Park Service signs explaining the historic significance of the two rivers and the ecology of West Virginia. She lay against it sunbathing in the weak May sunshine.
“Do what?” Becca asked.
“What did Granny Sam tell you yesterday?” Goldie asked her, one eyebrow at her hairline.
Becca sagged. “To go find myself a man to flirt with and stop worrying about her.”
Goldie grinned. “That is not what she said.”
Becca rolled her eyes. Her grandmother had gotten increasingly inappropriate with old age. Or maybe she had always been that way, and the jokes just went over her head for the first decade or two of her life. When Becca had started to fuss over her, Granny Sam suggested—demanded—that she go out and enjoy herself and find a man to shack up with.
Between nursing school and her duties with the coven, Becca hadn’t so much as blinked at a guy in months unless he was in a hospital bed. And as a nurse, you learned early never to go fishing amongst patients or doctors for fun. She tried to keep those two spheres of her life totally separate.
Charlotte clapped her hands together and leaped off the rusted railing. “To that end, shall we?”
Goldie obediently stood up too. The main Circle of thirteen witches was chosen by power and precedent, but a witch could join with any of her sisters to enhance her magic in smaller Circles.
Becca and her cousins had been gathering on this promontory since they’d been allowed to wander around town unsupervised in elementary school. In those early days, it had been mostly summoning spells for things like My Little Pony or the biggest cinnamon roll at Sunday brunch.
Really, they had been wishing spells. A summoning took more magic than any of them had back then and was super dangerous because you were manipulating reality.
There was no limit to what you could wish for, magical or not.
“What’s on the agenda?” she asked her cousin Charlotte. As the most powerful witch, the loudest, and the oldest, Charlotte had always led their little mini-coven of cousins.
“We have to do what Granny Sam said,” Charlotte said with a gleam in her eyes that Becca recognized and feared.
She played dumb. “We’re going to cast a spell to leave her alone and ignore the fact that her lungs are failing?”
“What? No! We’re going to find you a man.”
Becca closed her eyes. “I knew it. I don’t have time for a man! I have a year of school left.”
It was one thing for her grandmother to whisper in her ear. It was another for her entire collection of aunts and cousins to be in on the project.
“Oh, no,” Charlotte said. “I’m not trying to get a ring on your finger. I’m just trying to get a guy in your bed for a night.”
Becca laughed. If she hadn’t known her cousin so well, and if she hadn’t been participating in these little wishing Circles for most of her life, that announcement would have seriously disconcerted her.
As it was, she just said, “Sure thing. Let’s wish for a man and My Little Pony.”
Goldie held up a finger. “And the aunts off our back.”
“And a place in the Circle!” Andie finished. That had been their other main wish. They wished for toys and games and power. Always more magic. Always a chance to be in the main Circle of thirteen.
The wish was a little awkward now because Charlotte and Becca had long since become members of the thirteen. Andie, the daughter of a boy, never would. And Goldie was waiting for Granny Sam to kick the bucket.
Still, tradition was tradition.
“And a place in the Circle!” Becca said with an imaginary toast.
“Cheers!” Charlotte said and held up the water. Normally, these Circles took place after dark and involved copious amounts of moonshine or dandelion wine that Charlotte‘s brothers cooked up in the back of the store.
“On this day, we weave a spell to find Becca Abbott a man. Not for forever, just for the night.” Charlotte opened her eyes and winked across the Circle. “Or two. Do you want to add anything?”
As she spoke, magic stirred. It felt to Becca like her cells snapped into alignment and an extra force flowed through her veins along with her blood. It was both uncomfortable and addicting.
“Becca? Wishes? Hopes? Dreams? Secrets?” Charlotte said, totally unaffected by the power she was weaving.
A vision of life with her own household away from the coven sprang unbidden in her mind. A job as a real nurse in a real hospital and coming home at the end of the day to a man she loved, not the son of a witch she was matched with. One with his own ambition. But she knew her role and tried to keep it light as she said, “Make him have the body of a God, um, a fantastic cook, and the heart of a saint.”
Goldie smirked. “That’s it. That’s all you want?”
“Okay. Financially stable. And not a doctor. And not allergic to cats.”
Charlotte winked again. “Dog person. Got it.”
“No, I said…not allergic. That means he likes cats. Never mind.” She closed her eyes and said to herself, If this is going to work, please let him be kind. And unavailable so when I ghost him, he’s not upset by it. And let him take me away from my life. Just for a day. Or two.
“Magic’s pumping, any other requests?” Charlotte asked.
She could hear Andie muttering under her breath but not loud enough for anyone to understand. Still, Becca could’ve guessed: always for more power and a place in the Circle if you didn’t have one. And maybe a man of her own.
She looked at her sister, who said, “Oh, I’m good.”
Let Granny Sam be okay, Becca whispered silently, but she knew better than anyone not to wish for her to stay. She knew full well that Granny Sam being okay might mean being gone.
She dropped her cousin’s hands and picked up the backpack she’d stashed under the signs with supplies for the day’s hike.
“I’ll see you tonight,” she said with a wave.
“I can’t believe you want to go tramping through the woods on your day off,” Charlotte said. “How are you going to find a man in the woods?”
Becca shrugged. “If you lived where I did, you wouldn’t wander?”
She looked around at the mountains surrounding the town and the two rivers crashing together right in front of them. It took her breath away, but she knew when she lived here, she hardly looked up. A body could get used to just about anything.
“Have fun. Don’t get lost in the woods!” Andie said.
Becca grinned and held up her finger and thumb an inch apart. “Maybe a little lost in the woods?”
Her cousins laughed with her as she started for the railroad bridge over the Shenandoah. This was another huge blessing that most of the family took for granted. The Appalachian Trail ran straight through town, and she could get on it whenever she wanted.
She enjoyed the familiar clang of her shoes against the metal of the bridge. They played here often as children, though they weren’t allowed over the bridge until they turned twelve. She thought it was a sneaky way for Granny Sam to get them interested in the forests. What better way than to forbid it?
She was looking forward to the shade of the trees on the other end and a quiet hike away from the busy tourists when she heard a voice say, “You’ll get there.”
She turned to see a man sitting at the side of the path tying his shoe with his head down. “I’m just going for the day.”
He looked up, and Becca froze.
Body of a God? Check.
He had sandy blond hair and blue eyes, and the most perfectly proportioned features she had ever seen on a human being. In short, he was hot as hell. And that was just his face. It topped a body with huge biceps and a lean waist.
He stood up, and her head followed him up like a bobblehead. Most of the Abbotts were tall and lanky. She’d not gotten those genes, but the middling height and curves that always showed up at least once in a generation. He towered over her. She realized she hadn’t said a word as she just stared at this perfect human being.
“I’ve done a bunch of day hikes on the trail,” he said easily. “Happy to be starting a real thing now.”
She glanced at the tiny backpack he wore, no bigger than her day pack.
“In a few weeks,” he added quickly. “I am also day hiking today.”
She almost smiled. She didn’t know if he had the heart of the saint, but he certainly didn’t have the arrogance of a doctor.
She should say something. Should she invite him back to the cabin? She couldn’t believe this was happening. He was talking to her. He wasn’t walking away or sniffing in dismissiveness.
Had the spell actually worked?
She scoffed. It wasn’t possible.
She should open her mouth and say…
“Are you okay?” he asked, the smile slipping from his face.
“Do you want to hike with me?” she blurted out and bit her tongue to keep from qualifying the statement with how he probably wouldn’t want to and why he didn’t have to because he was clearly some kind of supermodel who would not ever want to go hiking at all. Except he was standing there in hiking boots, and that was absurd.
A grin lit his face, impossibly making him more attractive. “Yes, I would love that.”
Her brain just stopped for a second.
He would love that. He would love that.
Get it together, Becca. “How far are you thinking of going today?”
“The plan was to get into Maryland. Or wherever. I’m flexible.”
X-rated images cascaded through her brain. Yes, he was clearly flexible. He was talking about hiking. He was talking about a plan for hiking with her. That was all that was happening right now.
“Okay, then. There’s a cool promontory an hour away?”
“Perfect.”
Yes, he absolutely was.
They started down the path under the just-blooming oak and sycamores over their head. It was the perfect temperature. He was perfect. This was perfect.
“I’m Dan, by the way.”
Oh god, she hadn’t even introduced herself. “Becca.”
“Why’d you pick Harpers Ferry for your hiking needs today?” he asked.
She hadn’t put “small talk” on her list for a perfect man, but suddenly realized it was a totally underrated talent. She needed to add it to every spell because she clearly had forgotten how to do it.
“I grew up here.”
“Oh, that’s cool. It would be a spectacular place to grow up. If I were you, I would never leave.”
She went still at the casual statement. He couldn’t possibly mean anything by it, but it echoed her aunt’s manipulations too closely.
“I actually live in DC now. I’m just home for Wa… a family reunion thing.” Had she casually announced to this human stranger that she was home to celebrate Walpurgisnacht with her coven? The pulse of adrenaline at accidentally revealing herself to a human cleared her brain of hot guy fuzz.
“That’s nice,” he said like he was talking about anchovies or cleaning toilets.
She laughed. “Well, I know if I ever play poker with you, I’ll be fine.”
“Sorry. It’s not for me. Thus…” he flung a hand at the woods around them. “So, why DC?”
“I’m in nursing school. West Virginia has a program, but I am a little bit ambitious, so I just had to head to the big wicked, city.” She cringed; she sounded like a small-town girl from Harpers Ferry.
“Why do I get the feeling that’s the understatement of the week?”
“DC is not that bad!” How did she fall into the same conversation she had with Aunt Sonia the night before?
“Not that part. You’re a little ambitious?”
She forced out a laugh and wondered if she should keep quiet, but this part of herself, she would not make small. He could just deal, even if it was only for a day. “Okay, a lot ambitious.”
He didn’t go running in the opposite direction, and she cast about for another bit of small talk. “What do you do?” She cringed again; now she sounded like a stuck-up doctor from DC. “Sorry! Sorry. That is such a cliche thing to say. All anybody wants to know in DC is what you do for a living.”
“Let me guess, around here, all anyone wants to know is your last name and your mother’s maiden name, and any aunts and uncles so they can trace all the relatives you have in common? So? Mother’s maiden name?”
He was clearly from a small town. She opened her mouth to answer, but doubt assailed her. Her mother’s maiden name was Abbott; all witches kept the family name to keep the bloodlines clear.
She couldn’t know his name. Then he would be real and human and leave his socks on the floor and use too much toothpaste. “Anonymous. If we get into how we know each other, all of this is real. But this weekend, nothing is real. It’s two days out of time.”
After another twenty feet, he said, “Okay. No backstory. Just two days. But just so you know, in real life, I am a paramedic. Hopefully, there are enough paramedics in the world, that’s not an identifying detail.”
“Oh, that’s so cool.”
Unbidden, a voice in her mind ticked off the next thing on her list: he’s not a doctor.
She was walking through the woods with a hot paramedic seconds after doing a summoning spell for her perfect fling. It was not real.
When they turned a corner and headed toward the promontory, she couldn’t help asking, “Are you a dog person?”
He laughed loud and long, and she wondered why that was funny. After a full thirty seconds, he said, “You could say I’m a dog person.”
“I have a cat.”
“We can never be friends,” he said solemnly, and her stomach dropped before he grinned and said, “I’m kidding. I love cats too. They don’t always love me, but I forgive them.”
He was not allergic to cats.
They walked on, chatting about work and plans, and said hello to a few hikers coming and going. But mostly they were alone in the woods in the sunshine.
Do you want to come home with me? The words rested on the tip of her tongue. They could go back to Harpers Ferry to the cabin her family kept in the woods. She could be in bed for twenty-four hours with a hot paramedic who was also kind, not a doctor, and not allergic to cats. What else had she wished for? She wished now she had been a little more specific. But looking at Dan, she let that go. He was perfect; he looked like a movie star but was humble and adorably awkward.
It wasn’t anything in his body. He was the opposite of clumsy, a fluid hiker who matched her shorter stride effortlessly and was clearly at home in the woods in a way she’d seen few people accomplish and envied herself. But the moment he opened his mouth, awkwardness spilled out with every word. It was an irresistible combination.
They chatted about cats and dogs, nursing, healing, and hiking as they made for the promontory, and she hardly remembered a word she said as the drumbeat of her grandmother’s exhortation and her cousin’s spell pulsed in her mind.
It was a running joke around Harpers Ferry that you could pick up a hike her off the trail whenever you wanted, but she never had. She’d never had a one-night stand in her life. She had short flings and shorter relationships, but she’d always gone into them thinking that they might turn into something. She never just pulled a stranger into her bed because he was beautiful and kind, and because she wished for him and her wish came true.
He was saying something about the view. She didn’t care about the view.
“Do you want to come home with me?”
To read this from Dan’s point of view, download the free, full prequel, Her Wounded Wolf, here.
