"Uh … "
"Because I'm still not convinced of this whole perfect forever mate crap."
"Um … "
Lana began to pace. "He's a wizard!"
"Yeah, but-"
"I'm a witch." She shook her head. "It just can't work."
"It's going to have to."
She frowned. "What do you mean it's going to have to?"
"You answered the call, babe."
"Don't call me babe. And next time I'm letting my metaphysical answering machine get it."
He chuckled. "That makes you a member of the Beckett pack, whether you like it or not."
"That's just it! I don't know if I like it or not!"
"Does it bother you that he turns furry?" She made a rude noise, and he laughed. "Guess not. Have you two, um, ‘done the deed' yet?"
"Ugh." She could practically hear the quotation marks.
"Seriously. Did he suck in bed? Is that why you're thinking of doing a flit?"
"First he drugged me, then he got sick off some spell that he thinks someone named Cole used on him, and now I'm nursing him while he hacks up snot. Not exactly my idea of romance, let me tell you." There was no way in hell she was bringing up the workroom incident.
"Cole hexed him?"
Uh-oh. The teasing tone was completely gone from the other man's voice. "Let me guess. You're his older brother."
"Damn straight. Tell Christopher I'm on my way." Gareth hung up, leaving her holding a buzzing headset.
Lana hung up. "Lovely. Now I get to deal with two of them." At least Gareth had sounded like he knew who Cole was and how to deal with him. She stared at the phone before putting it back in Chris's pants. "And how does he know where we are, anyway?" She shook her head and decided to worry about that later. "Grammy!"
"Yes, dear?"
"Can I borrow the laptop?"
"Go right ahead. Pasta all right for dinner?"
"Does the Pope love Jesus?"
Grammy laughed and went back into the kitchen, shaking her head.
She headed into Grammy's bedroom and opened the laptop. Big brother might know who Cole is, but I don't. And I'm the one he threatened to kill. She booted up the computer, watching Windows come up. The good Lord helps those who help themselves, and the Lady provides the means. She settled down in the chair and began researching Christopher Beckett.
A half an hour later she had a better idea of who Christopher Beckett was, but was no closer to figuring out who Cole was. Chris was a graphic designer for Black Wolf Designs, a well established firm in Pittsburgh. From his correspondence, they were responsible for the websites of some pretty major labels. The fact that his father was head of the firm explained the name of the company. She wondered why Chris had chosen to live so far outside his home city, but nothing in the Google search had answered that question.
Heading to the bookcase, she pulled down The Registry. Inside was listed the name of every wizard, witch and warlock around the world. Each copy was magically tied to a Master Registry and updated when the Master updated.
How the Master updated was debatable. Some said one man was responsible, a scribe, priest or even a librarian who somehow magically knew when someone was born, died, had children and added all of that information to the registry. Others said it was secreted away in some secret monastery staffed by members of all three magical persuasions, all of them responsible for keeping the book updated. Still others believed the book updated when it needed to, with no interference from the mortals who referenced it or the person or people who guarded it.
Lana believed the latter. To her it made perfect sense. Men could be bribed to alter registrations.
Nothing could bribe the universe.
She opened the page to the Becketts, first checking out Christopher. She found his family listing easily. It seemed Chris had two brothers. Gareth, the eldest by three years, and Daniel, two years younger than Chris, were both listed along with their prodigious bloodline. Both looked enough like Chris that they were unmistakably related. There was a short, not very informative entry for a Zachary Beckett, and she wondered if he'd been a brother who'd passed away. The Registry could be vague at times.
She sat back to stretch, jumping at the sight of a strange man standing in the doorway of Grammy's bedroom. He had dark hair and golden eyes much like Chris did, but his features were harsher, less refined, and his hair was closer to dark brown than black. He looked a lot like the portrait of Gareth Beckett in the Registry.
"Lana? Your grandmother told me I could find you up here."
She grinned in relief at having her suspicions confirmed. "Gareth?"
He nodded and stepped forward to shake her hand. "Nice to meet you. Where's Christopher?"
"Bed, hopefully letting the remedies work."
His grin faded. "Remedies?"
She glared at him. The moment he started making fun of her "witchy" ways he was in for a world of hurt. "Don't start."
His lips twitched. "Yes, ma'am."
"We think this Cole person tied the sickness to some wolf hair Christopher somehow left behind last night."
"Tell me about it."
The command in his voice got her hackles up, but she could understand how he felt. It was his little brother in the other room sleeping off the effects of a nasty spell. "My car broke down last night."
"I got that, and I got that you're Christopher's mate. How did Cole get a hold of some hair?"
"Cole was in the woods last night, and Chris tried to protect me."
"How did he protect you?"
She knew what he was really asking from the cautious way Gareth spoke. "His wolf jumped Cole."
"Which means the son of a bitch has hold of wolf fur. Fuck. That means Christopher can't shift or it'll get worse."
Lana smiled. "That's what I thought." Nice to have it confirmed, too.
"So you concocted something to help?"
"A plant in his room to draw the illness out and ground it into the earth, some ginger, anise and cinnamon tea, and chicken soup."
He blinked. "Chicken … soup?"
She shrugged. Explaining the instinctive nature of a witch's magic to a wizard usually ended in frustration for both parties, and frankly she just wasn't up for explaining right now. "It's good for colds."
"Uh-huh." He shook his head. "I'm just going to go and check on Christopher." He nodded towards the computer. "Glad to see you're doing your homework."
She blushed at his knowing look but decided to brave it out. "Thanks."
Gareth Beckett strolled out of the room with the same grace his brother usually exhibited. Oddly the sight didn't move her the way it did when she watched Chris, but she still enjoyed the view. "How many of you are there, anyway?"
He was laughing. "Four."
"Four of you? Lord help the women of the world." She frowned, glancing back down at the open registry. Wait. Four?
He ducked his head back in. "Only three of us are available now, babe."
"Don't call me babe." He made his way out of the office again, chuckling. "And who the hell is Cole, anyway?" She shouted after him.
"Ask Chris," he yelled back.
She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hand, suddenly weary. "I'm so going to kill Kelly. Stupid boondock bachelorette party. It's not like there isn't a male strip club right here in Philly. We could have done pizza and Club Risque, damn it." She turned back to the computer and shot off a quick email to Kerry, telling her she'd get in touch as soon as she could, deleted the spam about a bigger penis for her pleasure, and shut the computer back down before heading back into the blue bedroom to face the Beckett brothers.
Time to throw myself to the wolves.
* * * *
"Why are you here, Gareth?" "Your mate didn't tell you I was on my way, did she?" Gareth was sprawled in the seat Lana had sat in, poking a curious finger at the mostly dead plant on the nightstand. Chris was vaguely reassured that there was still some green left on it. With Lana's help it might even survive.
"No, she didn't, probably because I was asleep up until ten minutes ago." Christopher got out of bed and reached for his shoes. He was feeling remarkably well considering he'd napped most of the day fully dressed. He usually felt rumpled and out of sorts when he did that. Actually, he did still feel rumpled, but the knowledge that his mate had chosen to stay by his side was a joyful hum inside him. He did, however, dislike feeling rumpled, so he decided to change into some fresh clothes.