“Like when you kiss me.” He smiled. “Only without the ick factor.”
“Zach.” She shook her head, tried not to smile, and failed. “Someday, you’ll want a girl to look at you like that.” Please, God, let it not be soon. “Now, you told me you had a surprise for me.”
His face brightened. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a small box, the bow lopsided and partly smashed. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”
Touched, she took the box, laughing as she pried the layers of tape off the sides. She lifted the lid, and tears stung her eyes. “Oh, Zach. It’s beautiful.”
On the black velvet lining the box lay an amethyst pendant. In the shape of a heart.
“Since you gave me yours,” he touched it again, ducking his head, one foot kicking at the floor. “I wanted to get you one. A special one. You like it?”
“I love it.” She pulled him in, kissed his cheek. “And I love you. Help me put it on.”
He lifted the smooth silver chain, the tiny links creating their own design. Standing behind her, he fastened the clasp, and the heart settled just below her collarbone. She touched the deep purple stone, beautifully streaked with white, and it warmed under her fingers.
“Let’s see.” He ran around to face her, and halted, his mouth dropping open. “Wow,” he said, staring at her. “Mom—it’s glowing.”
“What?” She moved to the small mirror above the utility sink. Under her fingers, the heart radiated a deep purple glow. “How—”
“I thought you said Annie was the witch.”
“She is.”
“Looks like you’ve got some power of your own.”
Blinking, she studied, the glowing crystal. She had always felt deep down connected to amethysts. Maybe—
Pushing away the useless hope, she held out her hand. Zach took it, let her pull him over to her. “Do you mind if Marcus joins us? He’s come a long way to see me, and he doesn’t know anyone else here. And it’s Christmas—”
“Okay, okay—stop laying on the guilt, Mom.” He tugged on her hand. “Can we go now? I’m starving.”
This from the boy who inhaled two huge roast beef sandwiches not two hours ago, along with most of her dessert.
“I hope you can last until we get to Annie’s.”
He let out a long-suffering sigh that had her laughing. “If I have to.”
Claire followed him out into the shop, and shooed him over to the rack behind the counter to grab their coats. Marcus waited for her, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in question.
“You are more than welcome to join us, Marcus.” Stepping closer, she touched his wrist. “Please—I will tell you everything, once Zach has gone to bed.”
Jade green eyes scrutinized, more brilliant against his sun-darkened skin. His hair was longer, gold weaving through the dark curls. And he looked—strong. Whole. The ugly whip mark she remembered was now a thin white scar on his left cheek, ending just above his jaw. It only made him more striking.
She wanted to touch him so much her body ached for it. Instead she stepped back, accepted her coat from Zach with a smile, and opened the front door.
“Shall we?”
*
“All right.” Marcus pulled her outside, after Claire checked on Zach for at least the tenth time to make sure he was asleep. He grabbed her hand and started walking in the direction of the shop two blocks away. “Start talking, Claire.”
She did, taking him through every event from the moment Regina burst into her shop. Without even thinking about it, she unlocked the back door, let them inside, and pulled bottled water out of the small fridge. They were sitting at the reading table when she reached the part about Zach.
“Wait.” He took her hands, lowered his head. Heat spiraled through her, so fast she held on to keep from sliding out of the chair. “You were wrong.” He raised his head. “The boy did not take all of your power. You don’t feel—hollowed out, you called it, as you did after Azazel returned you.”
“No, I—” She clutched his hands. “It felt right. For the first time, Marcus, I felt like I used my power for the right reason.” She pulled free, leaned back in her chair. “And if you call my son the boy one more time, it will be the last thing you say to me.”
A slow smile crossed his face. Damn him, she wanted to kiss every inch of that face. But not until he understood she was now a package deal.
“You have become the mother wolf, Claire.” She lifted her chin, and his smile widened. “It looks good on you.”
“Really?” She twisted her hands together, relieved to finally be able to unload on someone. Marcus was the absolute last person she expected to be her sympathetic ear. “Every other minute I’m terrified that I’m going to say something, do something that will scar him for life. Or worse, let something slip about who he was. God above, I still don’t know how I’m going to explain away what he thinks are sixteen years he actually lived—”