Olivia balled up her fists. “Jaxson needs to be free to choose his own mate. A proper mate. And I’m his only chance to make that happen. This is my only chance to do something decent with my life for once. To make up for—”
Gwen’s eyes had gone wide.
“To make up for killing my parents.” All the air went out of Olivia’s lungs. She said it. Finally. Out loud. And to the one person who could destroy her by barely lifting a finger.
Gwen’s face twisted up. “Olivia, dear, that wasn’t your fault! You were just a child, coming into your powers and—”
Olivia held up her hand to cut her off. She’d made all the excuses in her own head for years. None of it changed the fact that her parents were dead by her own hand. “It doesn’t matter. It happened. And I can’t undo it. What matters now is that I need to break this curse. Before I’m too in love with Jaxson to be able to let him go.” She was afraid it might already be too late for that, but she was going to try.
Gwen’s concern wrinkled up her magically young face… then slowly, it relaxed. She was silent for a moment, seeming to look all over the air surrounding Olivia. She remembered that scanning look from when she was a child, when her mother would read her aura. Her aunt was judging her somehow by the essence of her intentions. Her thoughts. Olivia kept still and quiet while she did, hoping that she’d see Olivia’s determination in the colors visible only to true witches.
Finally, her aunt nodded. “I see. Well, then. We better find a way to break this spell.”
Olivia’s body sagged with relief. Then, impulsively, she reached out and threw her arms around the tall, gorgeous witch who was going to save not only Jaxson, but her as well. “Thank you so much, Aunt Gwen.”
When she pulled back, there was a shine in Gwen’s eyes to go with her smile.
Jaxson pulled his car up to the meeting spot where Jace had assembled the assault team.
Everyone, including Jaxson, had changed into combat gear—lightweight body armor they could still shift out of, if necessary, plus ultra-light helmets with built-in mics for communicating while human. All told, they had two vans, one car, a dozen shifters, and a small arsenal of weapons and tech for taking down the gate. The meetup was two blocks away from the warehouse, and the sun was starting to sink, but the cover of night was still hours away.
“What’s our status?” Jaxson asked his brother, who was holding one of their secure handsets to his ear.
Jace held up a finger, listened to something on the handset. “Copy that.” Then he turned to Jaxson. “About half an hour ago, a van arrived and entered the gate. It drove straight into the warehouse through a back garage door. Nothing has left since Murphy arrived and set up his surveillance, and there’s obviously still activity on the ground, so…”
Jaxson nodded. “You think Jared’s still in there.” The bad guys wouldn’t bring new shifter victims to the warehouse, if they’d already decamped from that location. “What do you think they’re waiting for?”
Jace shrugged. “Maybe they think Jared is the extent of our plans for assault?”
Jaxson frowned. That seemed unlikely. “More likely they don’t have a good place to go. Biding their time until they get a new prison set up.”
Jace nodded his agreement. “Either way, someone is still there. And I’m betting Jared is, too.”
“Agreed.” Jaxson glanced at the late-afternoon sun. “Time is still against us. I don’t think we can wait until nightfall.”
“I thought you might say that.” Jace smirked and waved over Taylor. He brought a handful of gear—thick rubber gloves, a long metal rod, and jumper cables. No doubt his electrical-fence-breaking kit.
“Hey, boss,” Taylor said. “I’m ready to take ‘er down whenever you say.”
Jaxson looked askance at the equipment. “We’re not going to have much surprise on our side. Which means we need overwhelming force. Shock and awe.”
Jace cocked his head. “What are you thinking? Just ramming the gate?”
“We’re going to have to do that regardless,” Jaxson said. “Cutting through the fence and going on foot is too slow. Too much time for them to react. On the other hand, the distance between the road and the shack is pretty small. They won’t see the truck coming until we’re breathing down their necks.”
Taylor looked disappointed.
“However, I’m worried about shocking the vehicles and dragging a ton of electrified razor wire with us into the compound.” He tipped his head to Taylor. “So I still want you to blow the fence, but I need you to wait until we’re about to ram. That means you’re sitting this one out, Taylor. And watching our rear flank.”