Graham dragged in a breath to fight this new threat . . . and found himself lying flat on his back on Misty’s couch, the same stupid movie on her TV. Two little wolves were standing heavily on his chest, beating on him with their oversized paws.

 • • •

Misty emerged in the morning to find Graham at her kitchen table, red-eyed and irritable, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. Kyle and Matt, in their human form and dressed, their faces already dirty, bounced in chairs opposite him. Xavier stood at the stove, a towel over his shoulder, black T-shirt hugging his torso, as he cooked something that smelled wonderful.

Misty poured herself coffee. She enjoyed leaning back against the counter and taking a leisurely sip, happy to no longer crave liquid by the gallon.

Graham, on the other hand, was still under the spell. He lifted his coffee and took a sip, but his hands shook. He pulled the cup from his mouth after one taste, as though stopping himself from pouring the burning brew down his throat.

“You all right?” Misty asked him.

“Do I look all right?”

His voice was harsher than usual. His eyes were bloodshot, lips dry. This was Graham with a hangover, under a thirst spell, and by the looks of it, little sleep.

“No, you look like crap,” Misty said. “You need to drink something.”

Graham growled. “I need to go back to Shiftertown. Only reason I’m still here is to feed Kyle and Matt. And to make sure you’re all right for the day.”

“Xav’s making us chili killies,” one of the twins proclaimed.

“Chilaquiles,” Xav said good-naturedly from the stove. “Mama’s specialty. You’ll love this, Misty.”

Misty’s stomach growled. After the tequila shots, she should be as dry-voiced and red-eyed as Graham, but she felt pretty good. She’d had a dreamless sleep, waking when the sun rose to find the two wolves curled up on the bed next to her.

They’d leapt out as soon as she’d opened the door, and she’d hurried through her shower and dressed, concerned about Graham.

Xav brought two plates filled with eggs, fried tortillas, cheese, and tomatillo salsa to the table and put them in front of the cubs. He’d already laid out forks, and fortunately, the cubs decided to try to use them.

Graham had pushed aside his place setting, his elbows where his fork and knife would be. The flame tattoos climbed up his arms—red, orange, yellow, outlined in black.

“You need to eat something,” Misty said to him.

“No, I don’t. I need to go back to Shiftertown.”

Kyle and Matt didn’t have to be told to hurry. They were already halfway through their meal. All the pizza last night obviously hadn’t filled them.

“Well, eat something at home then,” Misty said. “And drink.” Just because Graham couldn’t control the thirst didn’t mean he didn’t need water.

“Will you let me worry about that?” he snapped. “You stay home. There’s a crazy Fae running loose, and he might get pissed off because you broke his spell. I’m sending over reinforcements.”

“I can’t stay home,” Misty said, watching Kyle and Matt shovel in the rest of the eggs and tortilla chips. “I have to talk to my insurance agent, make sure they receive the police report, call people about getting my store repaired, postpone incoming deliveries, and apologize to all my customers for having to cancel their orders. I’ll be busy.”

“Then you wait for my reinforcements.” Graham shoved aside the coffee and thrust himself to his feet. “Come on, you two.”

Matt and Kyle abandoned their places and licked-clean plates to barrel toward Misty. “Good-bye, Aunt Misty!” The two little boys hugged her legs, two eager faces turned up to her. Misty leaned down and hugged them back, kissing their foreheads. They gave her sticky kisses in return then broke away from her.

“Bye, Xav!” Another enthusiastic leg hug, and then they were out the door, heading for the small truck Graham had driven over.

Misty’s broken front door had been temporarily repaired with a piece of board nailed over the torn part, plus it was guarded by another muscled man in a black T-shirt and black camouflage pants.

“Graham,” Misty called as Graham strode out the door without another word. She caught up to him in the driveway, as the cubs climbed enthusiastically into the pickup. “Wait a minute.”

Graham swung to her. She expected him to give her hell again about wanting to talk, but he said nothing, only waited.

Today he looked less human than ever—a wild animal posing as a human being. His light gray eyes were hard with anger and pain, his short hair mussed, and the scars on his tanned face and arms were stark white. He was battling thirst and need for sleep, and losing.

“You should stay here,” Misty said. “You need to rest. Maybe Reid can find another way to break the spell . . .”

Graham’s words cut over hers. “No. Until this is over, I’m staying far away from you. Stick with Xav and the Shifters I send over, but keep away from me.”

Misty took a step forward. Her body hummed from his pleasuring of her last night, from the way he’d held her when they’d finished, her half-naked body folded into his. Graham hadn’t forgotten that, his look told her, and he wasn’t angry at her. He was scared.

“Graham . . .”

Graham raised his hands. “Stay. Away.” He moved his hands as though physically shoving her back, and then he turned around, got into the truck, and slammed its door.