Two Roped and Ready [Bewitching Desires 6] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour) by Mellanie Szereto Page B

of an antique-looking desk held a volume he couldn’t begin to comprehend. Its cover was worn, cracked leather, and its pages yellowed. A faded green ribbon marked the reader’s spot. The book had to be at least a couple hundred years old.
    Two dark-haired women sat on a fancy couch, sipping tea and talking in low voices. The word “poison” perked up his ears, and he stood motionless in the doorway in an attempt to eavesdrop on their conversation.
    “…a splinter in her thumb. Aunt Flóra says it couldn’t have come from the house or the barn. None of the wood here is that roughly hewn.”
    “Does anyone know where she went when she disappeared? What if the shifter broke through the barrier again and kidnapped her? Maybe she got the splinter when she was escaping.”
    The shifter? A sudden stitch of pain made Quayde squeeze his eyes shut and tense his neck muscles. An image of a roof getting ripped off a house and flying debris sparked a moment of panic. Tornado! He jerked his hands forward to reach for Ilona, but he couldn’t move.
    He swallowed a groan and grabbed for the wall. His heart slammed against his ribs, trying to pound its way out of his chest. Forcing his eyes open, he fought to regain his balance. His vision cleared and then blurred as the scene came and went. The ancient shifter. “The splinter was from the tornado.”
    A hand closed over his shoulder and another gripped his elbow, guiding him into the room. “Orsolya, look out, love. Ilona’s mate seems to be ill.”
    More images flashed in Quayde’s mind, and he staggered to keep from falling. Nausea rose in his throat. “The ancient shifter. He wants to hurt Ilona.” She sat facing him and PC on an unfamiliar bed, her lips moving and her words sinking into his brain. “He’s part of the Black Triad. And she’s a witch.”

Chapter 9
     
    Raised voices yanked PC from his half-asleep state. He’d had strange dreams again, and this time, he had no doubt they were memories. They might’ve happened long before he was born, but they’d happened all the same. Now, he understood his and Quayde’s connection to Ilona. That they’d made love to her together didn’t even shock him, the act seeming completely natural.
    Quayde’s stubborn tone carried into the bedroom from the living room. “I want to talk to Romána.”
    A female voice answered him. “She’ll only tell you what we already told you. Ilona has to explain about…everything.”
    “You mean that you’re a family of witches. Ilona is in a drug—sorry— plant -induced coma because some batshit wizard guy wants her dead. The witch thing means nothing to me.”
    “But she has to be the one to—”
    “I know where the splinter came from.”
    No one spoke for several long seconds.
    “I’ll get Romána.” The closing of a door seemed to signal the woman’s departure.
    “About frickin’ time.” Quayde stalked into the bedroom. Crawling onto the mattress next to Ilona, he stroked her cheek. “I’m here, darlin’. I won’t leave you again. Promise.”
    Keeping hold of her hand, PC levered up on his elbow. “You remembered more, didn’t you?”
    “Yeah. You?”
    PC nodded. “She’s ours forever, and we’re hers. I think she was trying to protect us.”
    “True mates will always protect one another. Their bond requires it.” Romána moved at a sedate pace from the dresser to the bed.
    Unsurprised by the sudden appearance of the old woman from last night, PC waited for Quayde to go on the attack.
    He didn’t, her calm demeanor evidently soothing his temper. “The splinter came from the framing of Patience Wyndham’s brothel in Encanto, Texas. I’m pretty sure Kazmer made a tornado rip the roof off the house. As soon as Ilona saw the twister, she said some kind of rhyme, and then we were here. What did he do to her?”
    Romána stood at the foot of the bed, her palms rubbing over the bump where her granddaughter’s feet were resting. “Because he caused the