Hunter's Curse

V de Cold Case Psychic Spin Off

Pandora Pine
(Nov 2018)

Etiquetas: Homo, Sobrenatural, Mistério

  
 
 
 
HUNTER’S CURSE

By
Pandora Pine
 
A cold case psychic spin off
novella
 
 Hunter’s Curse
Copyright © Pandora Pine 2018
 All Rights Reserved
 
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used
in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of
the copyright owner except for the use of brief quotations in a book
review. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons,
places, events, business establishments or locales is entirely
coincidental.
First Digital Edition: November 2018
 
Poem Bones to Stone used courtesy of Cee Brown
 
For Cee:

Sister. Friend. Support. Heart. Soul.

Poet.
 
PROLOGUE

Hunter

Emotions and destiny,

You have played.

Not fire, nor steel,

Will seal your fate.

Until love’s true kiss,

You are doomed.

But ‘til that day,

Set your bones to stone.

 
Winter, North Wales, 1418…
The chains were heavier than they looked. Hunter supposed
anything attached to one’s neck, hands, and feet was bound to get
heavier the longer they were worn. Adding to the burden was the
journey. Walking barefoot uphill over the craggy, ice-covered rock
path leading to Harlech Castle made every step an agony. It was
possible he would bleed to death or die from exposure before
making it to his final destination.
To his punishment.
Hunter had not chosen his profession in this life. It had been
chosen for him. The latest member in a familial line of sentinels that
stretched back through the centuries. His lips quirked into an all too
brief smile. Sentinel was the word father insisted be used to the rest
of the world.
Within the walls of their home, Hunter was free to speak his true
title: Demon slayer.
Today, Hunter would pay for that title. For his failure, rather. His
job was two-fold: slay demons and don’t get caught by his family’s
enemies. Hunter had succeeded with part A. It was part B that
tripped him up. That mistake would cost him dearly.
He had been out with his father, battling a particularly powerful
fallen angel, Seren, who had come to be a protector, of sorts, to the
garrison commanded by Edmund Mortimer, sworn enemy of King-in-
waiting, Henry V.
Things hadn’t gone as planned. It had been a trap. A ruse to
draw Hunter and his family out into the open. As the net started to
close around them, Hunter had known there was only one way to
save everyone. Offer himself to be captured as the rest of his family
escaped.
There hadn’t been time for tearful goodbyes, just one last look
over Hunter’s shoulder as he ran headlong toward his fate. A fate
that now had him coming closer and closer to the looming double
doors leading to the main keep at Harlech Castle.
The castle itself was an architectural marvel, built on a spit of
rock, soaring at least two hundred feet into the sky. There were
sharp declines in the land to the north and west of the castle making
attacks from either direction impossible. An ingenious ditch had been
cut into the rock on the south and east facing sides to keep the
castle safe from all four directions.
Hunter shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to be marveling at
the design of the castle held by his enemies. This was likely the
place he was going to die or spend the rest of his miserable
existence in some damp, drafty dungeon.
Knowing it was cowardly of him, Hunter wished for death. He
would ascend to the next realm in death. He would be a soul keeper.
Charged with not only bearing watch over the earthbound members
of his family, he would also join the chorus of ancestors doing their
work from the other side.
He looked forward to being reunited with his grandparents and
with Effa, his young sister, who’d passed when she was only three
summers. A genuine smile crossed his face. He knew his sister
would be waiting for him when he crossed over. Hunter would hug
her until his arms ached.
A slashing pain to the back of his head brought Hunter back to
the present. “You are about to be brought before Osian, the most
powerful warlock of our time, yet you grin like a fool?”
The foul breath of his captor washed across Hunter’s face. “Let
Osian do his worst. I am not afraid to die.” Hunter shrugged. His
chains jangled with the effort it took to move them.
 Dark laughter rang out, bouncing off the jagged rock surrounding
them. “Death is too easy for a vile demon slayer like you. Oh, no, I
believe Osian has something a bit more, challenging, shall we say, in
store for you.” The captor turned back to the men bringing up the
rear. “Isn’t that right, boys?”
Jeers and laughter rang out from behind Hunter. A sharp rock hit
the back of his head. Warm blood trickled down his neck.
Moments later, the large double doors opened with a booming
crash. The blessed glow of firelight reached out to meet him. It was
so bright that it hurt his eyes at first. Hunter blinked a few times to
get adjusted as he was shoved into the great hall which was a
cavernous room meant to accommodate all who lived and worked
within the walls of Harlech Castle.
His eyes finally adjusted, Hunter could see roaring fires set in the
hearths that lined the room. The people of the castle weren’t huddled
around them though, they were facing the open center aisle,
watching him. Hunter imagined this is what the room looked like for
weddings, only with the peasants dressed in their finery and without
scowls on their faces. Taunts were shouted at him as he was
dragged past, on toward the central dais.
From halfway down the aisle, Hunter recognized the three people
sitting upon the rise. Edmund Mortimer and his wife, Catrin, flanked
a central figure dressed in vivid purple robes. The robed figure was
straight out of Hunter’s worst nightmares. He’d been hearing dark
tales of Osian since he was old enough to walk. His parents would
scold him with cautionary tales of, “You’d best behave or Osian will
get you.”
 Now, here he was, in the flesh, about to pronounce sentence
upon Hunter for a life lived in service to the family business. But
there were two sides to every story. One man’s hero demon slayer
was another man’s murderous vile betrayer. He was about to answer
to Osian for his sins.
Movement to his right caught his attention. Turning, Hunter saw a
dark figure moving out of the shadows. “Seren!” he growled, yanking
forward on his chains. Hunter’s right hand came up as far as the
chains would allow, but nothing happened. No flash of light. No burst
of energy. Seren didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. She only laughed.
“Did you think you would be allowed into Castle Harlech with your
powers intact, little demon slayer?” Cruel laughter followed her
words. “We know you allowed yourself to be captured so that the
rest of your family could escape, like rats from a trap.”
“It is I who have taken you abilities from you, young Hunter,”
Osian said, standing from his seat. His purple robes flowed behind
him as he stepped down from the dais. He appeared to be levitating.
As his enemy drew closer, Hunter couldn’t help noticing how
handsome the warlock was. None of the stories his family told him
ever included tales of his flowing dark locks and amber eyes that
seemed to glow as if he had a fire burning from within. All tales of
Osian Hunter had heard made him out to be a hideous beast.
“You are wondering what sort of punishment I have in store for
you, little one.” Osian brushed past Hunter. The fur-lined hem of his
robe brushed over Hunter’s ruined and bleeding feet. In an instant
they were healed.
Hunter couldn’t believe his eyes. He knew it was dark magick
making such a thing possible. Taking a mental inventory of his body,
he noticed everything was healed; all of his cuts and bruises suffered
at the hands of his captors, the muscle aches from where punches
and kicks had been landed. He was perfect. Even the old scar on his
left hand from childhood was gone.
“Ah, yes, it is regrettable that you were treated so poorly at the
hands of the castle soldiers. I asked them to take you by any means
necessary, so I bear the blame for your injuries.” Osian completed
his slow circle around Hunter. He came to stand in front of the
demon slayer making eye contact with him.
To Hunter, it felt like the warlock could see into his very soul. He
tried to shut himself down, not liking how vulnerable this made him to
the witch.
“Before I pronounce sentence, I offer you one chance to avoid
your fate. Think carefully upon this offer, for you will not like the
consequence should you refuse.” Osian raised an eyebrow,
advancing one step closer to Hunter.
“I am listening.” Hunter couldn’t imagine what Osian had in mind,
but the look in his eyes indicated the warlock’s interest in him.
Hunter knew that look. It didn’t offend him in the slightest. He was an
admirer of both sexes. Equal opportunity, was how he termed
himself. Why turn away any warm, willing body from his bed?
“Join me, Hunter. I have so much to teach you.” Osian ran a
finger down the left side of Hunter’s cheek.
His body responded instantly, which Hunter assumed was exactly
what the warlock wanted to happen. If his brain was addled with lust,
then he wouldn’t be able to think clearly. “What are the other terms,
Osian? Certainly, learning at your knee is not all you require of me?”
Hunter raised an eyebrow in challenge.
 The witch chuckled. It was a low, melodic sound. “You are a very
clever boy. There is one other task you would be required to
perform.” His lips stretched into a smirk.
Hunter’s stomach sank. He knew what the task was without
Osian having to speak the words. “I would battle the slayers.” It
wasn’t a question. “In order to live, I would be required to hunt my
own family.”
Osian clapped his hands. “I told you he was a brilliant boy,
Seren.” He turned back to his captive. “Hunt and of course, kill, but
that’s a minor detail.” He looked over Hunter’s shoulder. Iain, Oliver,
unlock our guest’s shackles, please.” Glee suffused the warlock’s
face. In that moment, his beauty rivaled that of any angel.
“NO!” Hunter roared. He turned himself over to his family’s
enemies to save them. There was no way he was going to turn on
them and hunt them to save his own life. “I do not agree to your
terms, Osian. Kill me if you must, but I will not obliterate my own
family in order to survive.”
Osian’s beauty morphed into something dark. Rage took over his
countenance. His amber eyes ignited.
Hunter would swear he heard thunder rolling from within the walls
of the keep. He was going to pay dearly for defying the warlock’s
wishes. “I’m ready to die,” Hunter said simply. He took a deep
breath, focusing on the last image he had of Effa before she’d fallen
ill.
Osian’s malevolent laughter filled the great room. “Kill you? That
would be too easy, little demon slayer. What I have in mind for you is
much worse.” He laughed again.
Worse than death. What could possibly be worse?
 The warlock’s hands came up in front of him. Balls of swirling
black clouds began to grow in his palms. “Did you notice the
sentinels guarding the castle walk as you were brought to the
doors?”
Hunter nodded. There had been several stone figures lining the
rocky path; some had horns, others wings, some both. Several of the
sentinels wore tortured looks, while a few wore looks of defiance.
“Did you wonder how they came to guard the castle?” Osian
whispered in his ear.
“No,” Hunter growled.
“You are about to find out.” Osian took a step backward. “Winds
from the North which chill to the bone, turn this man into stone!”
Throwing his hands forward, the balls of black clouds enveloped
Hunter.
Remembering the defiant stone men, Hunter schooled his
features. His punishment might be a lifetime’s entombment in rock,
but he wasn’t going to let his lasting monument be one of terror. His
last act would be to bring bravery to his family’s name.
“Your curse will be to spend every moment awake. You will not
thirst. You will not hunger. You will not breathe. You will watch the
passage of time. Your family will die in battle. Some may grow old
and wither like grapes upon the vine. You will see it all, but be unable
to do anything but watch.” Osian laughed again. “But do not fear, you
won’t be locked in stone forever, Hunter,” Osian crowed. “Every
hundred years you will be freed.”
“Freed? For what purpose?” Hunter could feel his legs start to
stiffen. He tried to wiggle his toes and found he couldn’t move them
at all.
 “Why, to rethink your answer, of course. You will be given ten
years to roam this earth. To assimilate. To settle. Perhaps even to fall
in love. I will return at the end of those years to ask you again if you
wish to join me. An answer of yes earns you your freedom. You will
begin to age again and you will live your life any way you choose.”
“So long as I obey your commands!” Hunter bit out from behind
clenched teeth.
“A no answer will send you back to the stone for another century.”
Osian waggled his fingers. “Goodbye, Hunter. You stupid little fool.”
Refusing to rise to Osian’s bait, Hunter took one last full breath,
plastered a defiant look upon his face and waited for the stone to
take him.
 

Hunter

August, Present day…

The stone gargoyle sat silently in Hunter Conroy’s backyard. He
wasn’t altogether pleased with this particular rendition of himself, but
Osian had caught him by surprise when he’d shown up in war-torn
France in 1918.
Not wanting to leave his fellows at the front line, Hunter had
thrown a bit of a fit when Osian whisked him away from the
battlefield to a deserted street in downtown Paris. He’d been so
angry at the situation that he’d plopped himself down right on the
sidewalk, his legs drawn up against his chest. His hands were
clasped together around his knees. Hunter had, of course, refused
Osian’s request to join him and his merry band of thugs and had
been promptly turned back to stone.
Over the intervening ninety years, he’d been brought to the
United States, passing from family to family in Massachusetts. His
gargoyle had settled in Salem, Massachusetts around the time when
Flower Power and Jimmy Hendrix were all the rage.
The one thing Hunter had learned to do over the course of the
centuries was to roll with the times. Blending into his setting would
be crucial when he was set free from the stone again. His transition
needed to be seamless, so the people of Salem would believe he’d
really just moved to town from Chicago.
During World War I, he’d been an ambulance driver, among other
things, and had managed to put money away for himself for the next
time he was released from the stone. The one gift, aside from his
freedom, Osian always provided was identification documents. When
he’d awoken in Salem, he’d found a Massachusetts driver’s license,
a birth certificate, along with a United States passport. There was
nowhere on earth he could go where Osian couldn’t find him. The
passport was simply a cruel reminder of that fact.
Once Hunter had the funds from his Swiss bank account
transferred to the Salem Five Bank on Essex Street, he’d been able
to buy a house for himself and his gargoyle. In cash. Those Swiss
bankers had sure been right on the money when they’d spoken to
him in 1910 about ROI; Return on Investment.
The second thing he’d done when he’d gotten settled in his new
digs was to figure out a line of work for himself. He’d known how to
drive during the war and had watched on as automobiles became a
staple in every driveway. It was a no-brainer when he’d seen a sign
advertising Help Wanted at a place called Witch City Towing. He’d
been hired on the spot.
Only a year later, the owners of the shop, a lovely gay couple,
were more than happy to sell the business to Hunter so that they
could retire to sunny Boca Raton, Florida. The harsh New England
winters were just too much for them.
Hunter could certainly attest to that. Having spent fifty or so of
them out-of-doors and in snow drifts of varying heights, he’d most
definitely agree that getting the hell out of Massachusetts before the
snow flew again was a good plan. He was just pleased as punch that
he would be able to spend the next ten winters indoors.
Now, he was approaching the end of his freedom. Sitting in a
patio chair, his face upturned to the sun, Hunter couldn’t help
sneaking glances at the stone gargoyle whose eyes were most
definitely on him.
“Well isn’t this nice!” a familiar voice called from the backyard
gate.
“It sure in hell is!” Hunter called back to Cisco Jackson, Salem’s
Chief of Police. “First day off I’ve had in nearly a month, with all of
those damned summer tourists parking in handicapped spots and
tow zones. Christ, I didn’t think this day would ever come!”
Cisco walked through the gate, taking a seat in one of the patio
chairs. “So?”
Hunter had no idea what the chief was talking about. Well, that
wasn’t exactly true. He’d helped out on a couple of “off the books”
cases Cisco and some of his friends had been a part of, the latest of
which involved the chief’s new fiancé, Luca Pennington, and how
he’d come by his newly acquired sun allergy and craving for AB
negative. Judging by the way Cisco was grinning at him, this didn’t
have anything to do with Luca or any other bizarre investigations. He
shrugged, knowing it would just get Cisco riled up.
“Seriously? You can’t really be this dense.” Cisco leaned forward
in his seat. “Walker. What’s going on with you and Walker?”
Oh. That. “Nothing.” Hand to God. Hunter actually made the
ridiculous hand motion. When he was free from the stone, Hunter did
his fare share of ogling both sexes. He even made it a point to score
a random lover or two, but he never got personal with any of them.
As soon as he realized a relationship could get serious, serious
meaning he’d want to share a bed for more than one night, he
moved along, or chose not to get involved at all.
There had been two situations like that lately: Jude Byrne and
hunky ER doctor, Walker Harmon. He’d met P.I. Jude Byrne during
an investigation involving the Salem Witches. Boston Cold Case
Detective Ronan O’Mara had gone rogue and needed Hunter’s help
determining if two cars driven by members of the coven had been
tampered with.
The detective had brought the mouthy and perpetually horny P.I.
along as backup. He’d been all over Hunter like white on rice. Smart,
as he was easy on the eyes, Jude was usually the kind of guy he’d
go for, but Hunter had seen early on that the P.I. was the kind of guy
he could see himself getting attached to and then pining for. With
only a short time to go until Osian’s return, the last thing Hunter
wanted or needed to carry back into the rock with him was a broken
heart.
ER doc, Walker Harmon was another kettle of fish altogether.
Standing well over six feet tall with mocha skin and hazel eyes, he
had it all, looks, brains, and for some reason, he seemed just as
intrigued with Hunter. They’d met while Cisco had been trying to
figure out how Luca had been infected with, “a raging case of the
vampires,” as Luca charmingly put it. Walker had shown up just as
the man who’d infected Luca had made a break for freedom and had
witnessed Hunter using his “hand-powers,” as the man had termed
them.
All Hunter had done was pick him up and throw him across the
room, without touching him, in order to keep the man from escaping.
He’d been following Cisco’s instructions to the letter, after all. Walker
seemed interested in him, but things hadn’t really gotten a whole lot
further than that. Intentionally, on his part. Who knew what the deal
was on Walker’s.
“What the hell do you mean, nothing?” Cisco rolled his eyes. “I
saw the way the two of you were snuggled up together on a blanket
at my Fourth of July party.”
“We sat next to each other, chief. It’s not like we were practically
fucking each other like you and Luca.” If the captain and the vampire
had been neighborhood strays, Hunter would have thrown a bucket
of water on them. Somehow, he didn’t think even that would have
cooled their desire for each other.
“We’d just gotten engaged. A little hanky-panky is perfectly
acceptable. Plus, it was my front lawn. My rules. If you didn’t like it,
you could have left.” Cisco offered a good-natured frown.
It was Hunter’s turn to roll his eyes. “Walker was my ride home,
remember? It seemed someone called him to say there would be too
many cars in the driveway if I drove my truck. Gee, Cisco, I wonder
who dropped that dime, hmm?”
 Cisco shrugged, breaking eye contact. “You looked cozy to me.
What happened when he drove you home? I can’t imagine he kicked
you out the door and let you roll down the hill to your front door.”
Hunter snorted. “No, he was kind enough to park the Mercedes,
but he didn’t walk me to the door or anything. The only person who
seemed to think it was a date was you.”
“What?” Cisco rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. “He
said he was really into you.”
“Was that before or after he saw me hurl a man across a room
using my hand-powers?” Hunter held his hands palm up. They
looked ordinary to him. They always did.
Sighing, Cisco set a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “We’ve been
friends for almost ten years now and you never said a word about
this. Never said you were a gargoyle. Never revealed your powers.
Did you think I wouldn’t understand?”
Hunter’s powers and circumstances had always been a dicey
situation. Back in the fifteenth century, his powers could have gotten
him burned at the stake, if they had been discovered by the church.
An oxymoron if ever he heard one, as he was fighting demons for
fuck’s sake. As he’d woken through the centuries, he’d found that
attitudes toward his abilities hadn’t really softened much. Until this
time. Until Salem. It seemed he’d landed in the perfect spot for a
person with his talents and unique position.
Sighing, Hunter tried to organize his thoughts. “It’s not that,
Cisco. Well, not that entirely. There’s a larger story at play here and I
need to tell it. I was going to just tell it to you and ask for your help,
but now that I know Tennyson and Ronan and all of their friends, I
want to get them all in on it too. Do you think you could set
something up? A meeting or a gathering?”
“This is big isn’t it?” Cisco’s gaze softened.
Hunter nodded. “Sooner rather than later. I’m not sure how much
time I have left. “
“I’ll see what I can do.” Squeezing Hunter’s shoulder, Cisco left
the table.
Watching his oldest friend in Salem walk away, Hunter felt a
sense of ease that had been missing for so long. Osian had a habit
of showing up before the ten years were technically over. His
freedom should run out just after Christmas, but the warlock tended
to appear a month or two, sometimes three before the actual end of
the decade.
By his estimation, Hunter might only have one month of freedom
to go.
 

Walker
Emergency Room physician Walker Harmon was having one hell
of a day. It had started five minutes after his shift began with a
jackknifed tractor-trailer on the Route 114 bridge. Several cars had
been caught up in the chain-reaction crash. North Shore Medical
Center had gotten all of the casualties.
Now, six hours later, he was finally getting a minute to himself to
wolf down a protein bar and guzzle some water. Taking a seat at one
of the tables in the doctors’ lounge, Walker pulled out his phone.
There was the usual text from his mother back in Albuquerque
complaining that his father wasn’t getting enough fiber in his diet,
another from his sister complaining that their mother was on the
warpath, and a message from his former lover, police chief Cisco
Jackson.
Walker debated reading it, although not for the most obvious
reason. They had parted amicably several years ago. Well, as
amicably as lovers could part when you asked your boyfriend to
retrieve sex tapes your other lover had been filming of the two of you
together. Cisco had done it for him, bless his heart, but had ended
their relationship after the tapes were handed over.
Cisco was engaged now to Salem’s resident vampire, Luca
Pennington. Thanks to Walker owing Cisco a favor for that whole sex
tape debacle, Walker was now Luca’s private physician, prescribing
him blood for his “hemophilia.” You just never knew how one little
mistake like doing a douchebag with a penchant for making sex
tapes could alter the course of your entire life. He’d gone from
prestigious ER physician to private doctor to Bela fucking Lugosi
incarnate.
Tapping the message from Cisco, he saw that it didn’t have
anything to do with the baby vamp. Walker rolled his eyes anyway. It
had to do with the other situation he’d been trying to avoid like a
raging case of the vampires. Hunter Conroy.
Walker really was being a prick. He liked Hunter. He really did.
What wasn’t to like on the surface? The man was a blond god,
looking like a younger Dierks Bentley with his deep blue eyes and
shaggy blond curls. Hunter had muscles to spare and an easy grin
that lit up the room. Those things weren’t the problem. Hunter also
had X-Men-like powers and a stone-cold alter-ego. Literally.
 Sighing, Walker read the rest of the message from Cisco,
[Emergency meeting 7pm. Ronan’s house. RE: Hunter. Bring
snacks. :D]
Walker snorted. Only Cisco Jackson could request snacks for an
emergency meeting. What kind of snacks did he want? The kind the
humans in the room would enjoy? Or the kind the resident vampire
would enjoy sipping from a cup with a lid? Christ, he was all queen
today.
Fuck, it wasn’t like he could sneak bags of AB neg out of the
blood bank unnoticed. Luca would have to shift for himself. Bags of
Doritos would have to do. Maybe a pizza or some shit, but that was
it.
What the hell was this emergency meeting about anyway? Was it
an actual emergency? Like life and death? The kind of emergencies
he dealt with on a daily basis? Or was this just another ruse to get
him and Hunter together in the same room?
Walker pushed back in his chair. Hunter was a good guy. There
was no doubt about that. Cisco had told him the story about that
night in the Salem Towne Forest when he’d helped Ronan save the
Salem Witches and some of their friends. Witch City Towing was a
reputable business. There was no disputing what a hard-working
man Hunter was.
The problem, as Walker saw it, was two-fold: he was behind on
his own life plan to be married and have started a family by the time
he was thirty-five, and the fact that Hunter had fucking mutant, X-
Men-like hand-powers.
Was he being a prejudice bastard? Yes, probably so. What if they
used Hunter’s spermatozoa to have a child and the baby was
shooting up their kitchen with laser beam eyes or some crazy shit
like that? Was Walker putting the cart miles ahead of the horse? Yes,
that was probably the case too.
He’d been an overachiever his whole life. One of those genius
kids who’d skipped several grades and started college at fifteen.
He’d gotten his undergrad at UCLA and then it had been off to
Harvard Medical and Beth Israel for his residency. Now, he was
settled into his career in emergency medicine and poised to be the
youngest ER Chief when the current man in charge stepped down at
year’s end.
All that was missing now was a man to share his success with.
Walker had thought Cisco Jackson would be the man standing at his
side. They’d been the perfect couple on paper. Attractive, smart and
electric in the bedroom, but he’d gone and fucked things up, literally,
by picking up a side piece in one of the pharma sales reps who
frequented the hospital. It had been on Walker’s mind to try to
rekindle their relationship, That thought died a quick death when
Cisco had come to see him six weeks ago, his baby vamp in tow.
Cisco had said something to him during that meeting that had
him revaluating his thoughts on their broken relationship. He’d asked
if Walker ever found himself breaking the speed limit to get home to
Cisco. It was a good question. One that made Walker think that was
exactly what the vaunted chief of police was doing to get home to his
vampire. Speeding.
The chief made a good point. He’d never broken the speed limit
to get home to Cisco. In fact, he’d taken on a second lover while
they’d been together. Walker had known deep down in his heart he
and Cisco weren’t meant to be forever loves, but he’d been the last
best chance he’d had at having it all.
Until Hunter Conroy, his brain suggested.
Should Hunter be on the menu just because he was gay and
available? Shit, was Walker crossing him off the list just because he
had different abilities from himself?
Things seemed to be working out for Ronan O’Mara and his
psychic husband, Tennyson. They’d been married for nearly a year
and were expecting a baby via surrogacy in February. Ten’s partners
at West Side Magick, brothers Cole and Carson Craig, were also
happily married with families of their own. It wasn’t out of the realm
of possibility that marriages between people of otherworldly abilities
could work out. Tennyson and his band of merry psychics didn’t go
around tossing people around like footballs though. He would have
seen the results of that in his ER. Wouldn’t he?
Then there was Cisco and Nosferatu. They were engaged and
living together. At least Hunter wouldn’t be snacking on him like Luca
did with Cisco…so far as he knew.
Walker looked back at his phone. It was obvious they wanted him
at this meeting to help Hunter. His first obligation in every situation
was to his oath. He’d go as a doctor and see how he could lend a
hand. If the emergency meeting was simply a ruse to hook him and
Hunter up, there was no reason he had to stay for more than a slice
of mushroom pie, was there?
Typing out a quick response to Cisco, Walker slipped his phone
back into his scrubs and headed back to work.
 
 3

Hunter
Shit, Cisco had really pulled out all the stops. Ronan’s house was
so filled with people and food there was hardly room for more of
either. All of Tennyson’s psychic friends were there. He’d seen
Callum Churchill and other members of the Salem witch coven. Then
there was Tobin Woods and his fiancé Niall Gallagher, the new
owner of the newly refurbished Black Cat Inn. Lastly, there was the
ever-flirtatious Jude Byrne who was standing with Luca and Cisco
near the kitchen door. He thought he saw Cold Case Captain
Fitzgibbon with his man, philanthropist Jace Lincoln, and Fitz’s son,
Greeley. The only person missing was the one he’d been kind of
hoping to see: Walker Harmon.
“How’s it going, Hunter?” Ronan slapped a hand on his back.
“I’m good, Ronan.” He couldn’t help but wonder if Cisco had
clued the Boston detective in about the reason for this impromptu
meeting that was currently taking over his house, or if Ronan was
just as much in the dark as everyone else. Hunter snorted. Did the
psychics know what was going on and they were just trying to keep it
close to the vest?
“I don’t know anything about this meeting, Hunter,” Tennyson
Grimm assured him, as the psychic joined the group. “What I do
know is that you’re nervous. Why don’t you have a seat. We’ll get
started as soon as Walker gets here.”
Walker? Hunter felt his heart kick up a notch. So, the hunky ER
doc was coming. To the party. Maybe he’d be coming later, but not at
Hunter’s hands, that was for sure. Shit! What the fuck was wrong
with him? Could Tennyson read his mind now? Could he see the
down and dirty fantasy Hunter was having where he was fucking the
good doctor into next week? Fuck! He scrubbed his hands over his
eyes. Stop thinking about fucking Walker…
Tennyson started to laugh. He patted Hunter’s arm before he
walked away.
God! How fucking embarrassing. At least his dick wasn’t acting
up. As far as he was concerned, popping stone for the doc would be
the only possible way this night could get worse. Well, until he had to
tell his story.
Commotion near the front door signaled Walker’s arrival. Pats on
the back and hugs were the order of the night until the ER doc was
circulated around to him.
“Hunter.” Walker nodded.
He didn’t reach out to hug him, nor did he offer to shake. Hunter
felt like a fucking leper. He nodded in return and turned to walk away.
He was going to be encased in stone about a month from now. Why
the hell was he standing here taking a look from Walker like he had a
case of rancid egg farts when there was a mushroom pizza in the
kitchen with his name on it. “Excuse me,” he muttered before turning
away.
“Hunter,” Walker took his arm by the elbow, stopping his forward
progress. “I’m an asshole.”
He had to admit, Walker took the words right out of his mouth.
Hunter was about to say that very thing when Ronan’s booming
voice called the meeting to order.
“Okay, everyone! Can I have your attention?” Ronan clapped his
hands. “Thanks, guys. Where’s Hunter?”
 “Here!” He raised a hand and gave Walker a brief nod before
working his way though the crowd to get to Ronan.
“I want to thank you all for coming tonight on such short notice.
That’s what I love so much about our family, we’re here for each
other no matter what.” Ronan’s sunny look darkened a bit. “Some of
you know a bit about Hunter’s story beyond the fact that he owns
Witch City Towing, because you’ve seen it with your own eyes.
Others, I’m sure have heard things through the grapevine. I’m gonna
let Hunter tell his tale in his own words and then maybe we can all
help him figure a way out of this mess. From what I understand it’s a
time-sensitive issue. So, without further delay…” Ronan grabbed a
highbacked chair and indicated Hunter take it.
He was reluctant at first, knowing everyone in the house was
going to crowd around him like kids at afternoon story time at the
Salem Public Library. He wouldn’t have a clear escape route if Osian
showed up. The last thing he wanted was to put his friends, family,
as Ronan put it, in danger.
Taking a deep breath, Hunter tried to organize his thoughts. He
watched in wonder seconds later as Tennyson Grimm moved around
the room arranging people so there was now a clear path not only to
the front door, but also to the kitchen and the back door of the house.
Hunter offered his host a brief smile. “I’m Hunter Conroy. For those
of you who don’t know, I’m a gargoyle, but my story goes back
further than that. I’m actually a demon slayer.” He stopped speaking,
waiting for the gasps or for a ringing shout of “bullshit!” When none
came, Hunter figured it was safe to carry on.
“I was born in 1388 in Harlech, Wales, into a family of prominent
demon slayers. We carried out our work in the dead of night. Not
only were we battling demons, fallen angels, evil spirits and the like,
we were also up against those who were fighting on the side of those
demons.”
Ronan opened his mouth, looking like he was about to say
something, but he snapped it shut again.
Hunter took that as his cue to continue, “In the winter of 1418, we
were out hunting a fallen angel named Seren. What we didn’t know
at the time was that she was the pet angel of a very powerful
warlock.”
Jude Byrne growled from the back of the room.
It was a well-known fact that Jude hated witches. Hunter didn’t
know the entire story behind that intense hatred and doubted very
much that Ronan and the gang knew it all either, but the P.I.’s father
had been murdered by a witch in front of Jude when he was a
teenager. The rest of Hunter’s story certainly wasn’t going to endear
him to the world-wide witch community. “It turned out that night’s
hunt was a trap. Seren had been sent out to gather as many
members of my family as she could. I figured out what was going on
and warned as many as possible. I sent them fleeing in different
directions, while I offered myself to the huntsmen from Harlech
Castle.
“Jesus Christ,” Walker whispered.
Hunter had been trying to keep his eyes off the doctor as he’d
told his tale. There was no mistaking the genuine empathy is the
man’s voice. He wasn’t sure how this conversation was going to go
with Walker. He was a man of science. Of logic. Granted, Walker had
been there to see Hunter hurl the suspect in Luca’s case across the
room without having laid a finger on him. However, that was far
different than hearing Hunter explain he’d been born in the
fourteenth century and was actually six hundred and thirty years old.
“What happened next?” Jude asked. His voice sounded closer
now, as if he’d moved forward in the room to get a better view of the
storyteller.
“I was brought before Osian, the most powerful warlock in Wales.
He may have been the strongest in Europe, for all I knew at the time.
He gave me the option to join him and live, but joining him meant
that I would have to hunt my own family.”
“Holy shit!” Cisco muttered. “Obviously you didn’t choose that
option. What was behind door number two?”
“Tennyson? Carson? Would you show everyone, please?” Hunter
took a deep breath. He could feel his hands shaking. A second later,
Walker was slipping his hand into Hunter’s and giving a gentle
squeeze.
A minute or so later, both psychics walked into the living room
carrying something between them that was draped in a black cloth.
They set it down with a loud thump which echoed loudly in the still
room. Hunter nodded at Tennyson, who pulled the drape off with a
flourish worthy of Harry Houdini.
Now came the gasps and the ohhs and ahhs. Hunter had
expected no less. His gargoyle was a stunning visual aid. “This is my
1918 gargoyle from France.”
Callum Churchill and Jude Byrne stepped forward at the same
time. Each man eyed the other warily as they approached the stone.
“Can I touch it?” Jude asked. The look in his fiery amber eyes was
serious for once.
“May I as well?” Callum asked, shooting Jude a dirty look.
 “Sure, there’s nothing either of you can do to hurt it. Or me for
that matter.” People had touched his various stone incarnations
down through the centuries. Nothing had ever affected the stone or
him while he’d been entombed within it.
Jude knelt before it. His right hand reached out toward the
reddish-colored rock, without a tremor in sight, landing on the
gargoyles left hand and knee. His eyes slipped shut.
“Do you feel anything, Jude?” Ronan asked, breathlessly.
“I’m not saying anything until Harry Potter touches it too.” Pulling
his hand back, Jude sat on his ass on the living room floor.
“Aren’t you clever?” Callum rolled his blue eyes at the P.I. “What
a shame I’ve sworn to use my magick for good. You’d make an
adorable horny toad.”
“Guys,” Ronan cautioned. “Just touch it and get it over with,
Callum. The quicker you’re done, the quicker we can go home.”
Jude snickered. “I bet that’s what his dates say.”
Ronan shot Jude a shut-up-or-die look before turning back to
Callum. “Whenever you’re ready, Callum, but sometime tonight
would be great.” As if to punctuate his request, Ronan’s stomach
growled loudly.
Shutting his eyes, Callum’s left hand reached out to touch the
gargoyle’s head. He hissed like he’d been burned, and yanked his
hand away from the rock. “In the name of the goddess!” Turning his
palm right side up, the skin was red and blistered as if it had been
burned.
“Shit, is that the hand you jack off with, Churchill? Looks like
you’re shit out of luck.” Jude started to laugh.
 “Not even my toddlers act like this,” Carson Craig whacked the
back of Jude’s head on his way past.
Hunter watched as Walker pulled away from him and went to
Callum, inspecting his hand. He looked as if he was about to ask for
medical supplies when Carson reappeared at his side with a first-aid
kit.
“There’s the benefit of being at a party with a gaggle of psychics.
You get what you need without having to ask for it.” Walker shook his
head and went to work on Callum’s burns.
“Why was Callum burned and Jude wasn’t?” Ronan asked,
peering over Walker’s shoulder, presumably to get a better view of
the boy-witch’s injuries.
“If I had to guess, I would say it was because a warlock cursed
me and he doesn’t want another warlock messing with his magick.”
Hunter shrugged. “That’s just a guess on my part.”
“So,” Tennyson said, “Osian offered you two options, join him and
fight against your own family, or be turned into gargoyle?”
Hunter nodded. “Right. Only the caveat with being a gargoyle
was that I get set free every ninety years.”
“What?” Walker turned from Callum’s hand to stare open-
mouthed at Hunter.
“I know, it’s a crazy story. Almost beyond belief.” Hunter shook his
head. “I get set free every ninety years. I get ten years to live as a
free man. To have a life, a family, a business. Whatever I want. At
the end of that decade though, Osian comes back and asks me
again to join him.”
“With the same two choices?” Tennyson asked.
“Join or become stone?” Walker whispered.
 Hunter nodded. At least the ER doc wasn’t wearing an openly
defiant are-you-fucking-shitting-me look. He seemed to be following
along with the story and looked to be, dare he say, believing it.
“How much time is left on your decade?” Jude asked, absently
reaching out to set a hand on Callum’s knee.
“I’m never a hundred percent sure, at least a month, maybe a
little more.” It certainly wasn’t enough time now that he felt the bonds
of friendship in this room and had the flavor of mint chocolate chip
ice cream and hot wings on his tongue.
“Do you have a fucking sledgehammer, Ronan?” Walker asked
with grit and steely determination in his hazel eyes.
“Why?” The detective looked slightly alarmed.
“I’m gonna turn this fucking rock to smithereens. Hunter can’t be
consigned back to it if it doesn’t exist anymore, right?” Walker looked
around the room at their gathered friends. His eyes landing last on
Hunter.
Hunter had tried destroying his gargoyle in 1518 and then again
in 1618 and for a third time in 1718. He’d given up after that. The
stone was always put back together, looking good as new the next
day. He wasn’t going to tell Walker that. If his gallant knight wanted
to whale away on the damn thing until he couldn’t lift his arms for the
next swing, who was Hunter to stop him?
 

Walker

Anger pounded through Walker’s body. He couldn’t remember

being this angry since his pharma-dick told him about the sex tapes.
In this moment though, he was ready to go to war for Hunter Conroy.
The meeting had broken for dinner after Ronan told him that he
didn’t have a sledgehammer and neither did any of their friends. The
look the detective shot everyone in the room before declaring them
hammerless did not go unnoticed.
“Here, I saved this for you,” a familiar voice said from behind him.
When Walker turned, Hunter was behind him holding a pizza box
with paper plates and napkins stacked on top. In his other hand were
sweating bottles of water.
“How’d you know mushroom was my favorite?” Walker asked
when Hunter set the pie down on the coffee table near where he was
still sitting on the living room floor. Walker hadn’t moved when the
party broke up.
“Oh, you mean aside from the fact your name is on it?” Hunter
laughed. He opened the box and grabbed a sliced for himself after
Walker grabbed his own.
“There’s plenty of pizza in the kitchen, you know.” Walker frowned
at him.
“Yeah, but mushroom is my jam.” Hunter waggled his eyebrows
at the doctor.
“I’ll allow it considering the present state of affairs.” Walker
frowned. After the day he’d had at the hospital, he was starving.
Hunter burst out laughing.
That wasn’t the response Walker was expecting from Hunter.
He’d take it though. “So, what is the ultimate goal of this meeting? To
try to figure out a way to defeat this Osian guy and keep you out of
the stone for good?”
 Hunter shot him a look like he’d never even considered that
possibility. He shook his head. “No. I needed Cisco’s help with the
business and my new gargoyle. I thought maybe everyone should be
in on it since I want to wake up here in Salem in 2118.”
“Oh.” That didn’t make one lick of sense to Walker at all. Once
everyone was back in the living room, he was going to say those
very words to the group and see what they all thought. With the
lineup of people here, there must be something Hunter could do to
fight back. Not to mention the hand-powers thing.
“What have you been up to since the Fourth of July?” Hunter
asked.
Walker refocused his attention on the man wolfing down his
mushroom pie at an alarming rate.
“Working, mostly.” Walker shrugged. “Trying to find a cure for
Luca’s-” Raging case of the vampires, is what he’d almost said.
“Weird allergy,” he amended.
Hunter leaned forward. “I know he’s a vampire.” His hot breath
ghosted across Walker’s ear, making the doctor shiver in response.
“Oh shit!” Jude crowed, “are we interrupting something? Hunter,
when you get horny, does your dick turn to stone? Jude burst out
laughing. “Asking for a friend!” he managed between snorts and
giggles.
Hunter stood up from his place on the floor near Walker, his
hands going for his button fly. “You want to see?”
Half the room erupted into shouts of, “NO!” The other half were
catcalling and urging Hunter on.
Hunter grinned at Jude and sat back down.
 Cisco held his hand up for order. “The reason Hunter wanted to
get everyone together was to talk about his final wishes.”
Hearing those words, “final wishes,” felt like a dagger being
driven into Walker’s chest. Jesus Christ, as a doctor it seemed like
there should be something he ought to be doing to stop this whole
thing. He’d listen carefully to what Hunter needed and then he would
bring up his plan to fight fire with fire and witches, psychics,
vampires, cops and one very pissed off emergency room doctor.
“As I get closer to the end of each ten-year cycle. I start my
preparations. I make sure my money will be safe for the next time I’m
set free. I do what I can to make sure my gargoyle will be taken care
of, if possible, and I ensure whatever business I’m involved with will
be in good hands.”
“How does that work when you wake up? Don’t you need ID or a
birth certificate or something?” Greeley Fitzgibbon asked.
Hunter nodded. “That’s something Osian sees to. When I’m set
free from the stone, I always have the proper documentation. This
time around it was a Massachusetts driver’s license. A birth
certificate and a U.S. passport. I also get to keep all of my own bank
records so I can start a new life. Osian wants me to be as
comfortable in this new life as possible so that I’ll be more likely to
want to stay at the end of it.”
“Fucking douche tuba,” Captain Fitzgibbon muttered.
“He’s smart though, Cap,” Hunter started, “this has to end
eventually. My family is long dead. So are all the friends I’ve made in
other lives. I mean seriously, what am I doing this for now, anyway?”
“You’re doing this to stay out of this motherfucker’s clutches.
That’s what you’re doing!” Jude sounded enraged.
 “What are you saying, Jude?” Tennyson asked.
“The man making the promises here is a fucking warlock! You
can’t trust those dirty bastards as far as you can throw them.” Jude
turned to Callum, “No offense.” He shrugged and turned back to
Hunter. “He claims he’ll let you go if you join him, but that isn’t carved
in stone.” Jude rolled his eyes. “No pun intended.”
“Let me get this straight. If you agree to join him, you get to stay
here in Salem with us and what, go off on missions like you’re a
member of the C.I.A.?” Carson asked, looking to Tennyson for help.
“That’s the way he’s explained it to me in the past,” Hunter
agreed. “I would start to age again and I could live out my life here.”
“You wouldn’t be immortal anymore?” Luca asked, sounding very
curious.
“No, not according to Osian,” Hunter agreed.
“Ten, Carson, Cole? Are any of you getting a read on this Osian
asshole? Any impressions from Hunter or the gargoyle? It had the
ability to hurt Callum. Can you read it?” Ronan looked around at the
three psychics in the room who were all eyeballing each other.
Cole headed toward Hunter, while Carson and Ten moved closer
to the gargoyle.
The stone creature looked innocent enough sitting in the middle
of the living room floor with its knees drawn up to its chest and its
arms wrapped around them, but Walker wouldn’t touch it for all the
free antibiotics in the world.
“Hunter’s telling the truth,” Cole announced. “Sorry, Hunter, I
didn’t mean to say it like there was ever any doubt. I don’t feel any
kind of link from Hunter to Osian, but I assume there’s a way for the
warlock to find him when the time is right.”
 Carson was down on all fours examining the gargoyle.
“Are you sure you should touch that thing, wife?” Truman Wesley,
Carson’s husband, asked.
“I’m looking with my eyes, not with my hands, just like my mother
taught me, husband,” Carson said. “I’m feeling some strange energy
coming off this thing. I’m guessing that’s probably what Jude felt
too.”
“Ten, what about you, babe?” Ronan asked Tennyson, who was
still keeping his distance.
Tennyson held up his finger in the universal gesture for “Wait a
minute.” He dashed out of the living room and when he came back a
moment later, was holding a small white board and a marker in his
hands. He held up one finger against his lips, asking everyone to be
quiet before he started writing. When he was finished, he turned the
board around for everyone to see.
“The stone is a conduit.” Walker read silently to himself.
Tennyson erased what he’d written and scribbled again. “It works
like a bug. Get it out of my house! Quietly!” Were the next three
messages.
Walker watched as Ronan and Captain Fitzgibbon wrapped the
stone creature up and carried it out to Hunter’s truck. Jesus, did that
mean Osian had a hotline to everything Hunter had been saying for
the last nine years?
When everyone was settled back into the living room, Walker
knew it was his time to speak. “What about those hand-powers of
yours? Why can’t you use them against Osian?”
Hunter laughed. “Hand-powers? Is that what you’re still calling
them?”
 Walker raised an eyebrow. “Hunter, you threw a man thirty feet
across the lobby of the Darwin Building without laying a finger on
him. I’d call those hand-powers. What would you call them?”
Hunter shrugged. “It’s my gift, I guess. It’s for fighting demons.”
“Really?” Ronan asked. “You mean it won’t work against me?”
“Do you really want to tempt fate, Ronan?” Fitzgibbon asked. “I
hate to say this out loud, Hunter, but he’s my best detective, can you
point those things at someone else?”
“There aren’t any demons in this room, Kevin. No evil spirits. No
fallen angels,” Hunter said simply.
“Well that’s a fucking relief,” Jude said with no heat in his voice.
Raising his hands, Hunter directed them across the room.
Unbelievably, no one flinched and nothing flew into a wall.
Walker was stunned.
“See? They don’t work when there’s nothing for them to work on.”
Hunter shook his hands like he was drying them off and set them
back in his lap.
Well that was interesting. “Like some kind of failsafe so you don’t
get pissed off and destroy half of Tokyo?”
“I’m not Godzilla.” Hunter rolled his eyes. “But I suppose it is
some kind of guard so that my people can’t use their powers for evil.
“How do we break the spell?” Ronan asked. “There has to be
some way to break the spell for good.”
“In fairy tales spells and curses are broken with a kiss,” Greeley
suggested.
“Well if it’s that simple,” Jude grinned. “Pucker up, Buttercup.” He
made an exaggerated duck face, aiming it in Hunter’s direction.
 “Are you up to date on all your vaccinations?” Callum Churchill
asked, his nose was straight up in the air. “It would be a shame for
the curse to be broken only to lose your mind to an uncurable case
of VD courtesy of the town trolley.”
“The town trolley?” Hunter asked, sounding like he was just
barely holding back a giggle.
“Yeah, you know,” Ronan started.
“Everyone gets a ride!” The room finished off.
“Fuck you all!” Jude crowed, crossing his arms over his chest. He
was grinning, despite his proclamation.
“This isn’t helping.” Walker sounded angrier than he intended.
“What else besides diseased kisses breaks curses?” Shit, now he
was saying it.
“What about prayer?” Fitzgibbon asked. “Twelve years of
parochial school.” He shrugged.
“There are several ways to do it through the use of witchcraft,”
Callum suggested. “We could try outright curse breaking. I know of
several ways to do this. Or, if those methods fail, there’s always spell
reversal.”
Hunter’s eyes narrowed. “What’s spell reversal?”
Jude barked out a happy laugh. “It’s like using a mirror to reflect
the spell back on the person casting it.”
Cullum nodded. “The one thing we have to keep in mind is the
strength of the warlock casting this curse.”
“What do you mean?” Tennyson asked.
“We need someone on our side who is equal in strength and
power to Osian, otherwise it would be like a high school quarterback
facing off against an NFL lineman.” Callum looked around the room.
 Ronan turned to the witch. “Do we know someone like that,
Callum?”
“I might. I don’t know if he’d be willing to get involved with this
situation, but I can ask.” Tennyson wore a worried look on his
handsome face.
“Do that,” Ronan ordered. “Cap, you start researching prayer as a
way to get this thing done. Ten, you and the psychics get in touch
with your spirit guides, do as much research as you can on this and
see if you have any means to break a curse like this.” Ronan turned
around to face Jude. He raised an eyebrow high.
“This should be good,” Jude mumbled.
“I don’t mean to encourage your hatred of witches, Jude.” Ronan
fisted his hands on his hips.
“Actually, Ronan, we’re dealing with a powerful, centuries-old
warlock in this case, but please continue…” Jude smirked.
“Some of us were there that day at the Black Cat Inn when you
used that Navajo weapon-word to defeat the spirits who were trying
to hurt Niall. You know more about this than you’ve said. I’m not
pressing you to spill any family secrets here, but if you could find out
more about words like that or how to battle a powerful, centuries-old
warlock, I sure would appreciate that.”
“I would too.” Hunter grinned.
Jude nodded. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
Ronan nodded. “Cisco and Walker, help out with getting Hunter’s
affairs in order in case this all goes belly up in the end. If anyone can
help with a plan to secure his gargoyle…” Ronan trailed off, his eyes
looking glassy. He cleared his throat roughly. “We’ll reconvene in a
week and see where we stand. Time’s of the essence here, people.”
 Walker stayed where he was on the floor. With all of his years of
medical training and advanced degrees, all he was qualified for was
to help put affairs in order. Not that he was angry to be assigned that
kind of duty, but he’d always been at the top of the list for handy
people to have around, but now, there was nothing he could do to
keep Hunter from turning to stone.
 

Hunter
When Hunter left Ronan and Tennyson’s house several hours
later, he nearly tripped over Walker who was sitting on the front
stoop in the dark. “Oh, shit! Are you okay? Didn’t you leave like
ninety minutes ago?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Walker grumped. “I’ve only been sitting here for
like an hour.”
Under the light of the of the crescent moon, Walker was stunning.
His hazel eyes glowed like warm honey, but the grumpy-as-fuck look
on his face was ruining the illusion. “Why are you still sitting out
here?”
“Do you see the black Mercedes three cars up from here?”
Walker pointed.
“Oh, shit!” Hunter laughed. Walking up to the car, he could see
there was an inch separating its back bumper from the car parked
behind it. Jogging to the front of the car, he could see there was
much more room, about two inches this time. “How did you get it in
this spot?”
 “How did I get it in this spot?” Walker half-shouted, sputtering with
anger. “There were no other cars parked here! I’ve been sitting out
here for the last hour hoping one of these assholes would come out
and move their car.”
“Come on, doc. I’ll take you home.” Hunter hooked a thumb over
his shoulder at the pickup truck parked a few cars back.
Walker raised an eyebrow at him.
“What, is your ass too highfalutin to ride in a truck?” Hunter
looked offended.
“No! I’m just wondering what else you had planned for me.”
Hunter laughed again. This guy was too much. “You think I’m
gonna kiss, fuck, or kill you to try to break the curse?”
Walker’s eyes darkened. “Are you?”
“Let’s go, doc. Taxi’s leaving now. Last chance for a ride unless
you want to wait for an Uber or Luca and Cisco who, the last time I
saw them, were necking out on the back deck. Do you think Luca
bites Cisco’s dick?” Hunter grimaced before heading toward the
truck.
“Jesus Christ! Wait for me!” Walker called out, just as Hunter was
reaching for the driver’s door handle.
Hunter had a feeling mentioning Luca and Cisco would get
Walker’s ass moving. There was something going on between the
threesome he hadn’t quite figured out yet. Maybe he could get the
good doctor to dish about it on the way home.
Hunter pulled out into traffic once Walker was belted into his seat.
“So, was there some kind of a kinky three-way gone wrong between
you, Cisco, and Luca?” Go big or go home, right? Hunter couldn’t
wait to see Walker’s response to this.
 “What?” he gasped. Walker did not sound amused.
“Every time I see you around the lovebirds it’s like you have a
wall up around you. I don’t know, a barrier or some shit. I just
wondered if you had this kinky-ass threesome that took a very wrong
turn and you couldn’t quite look them in the eyes yet.” Hunter shot
the good doctor a filthy grin.
Walker opened his mouth looking like he was loaded for bear, but
his lips snapped shut. Turning his entire body toward Hunter until the
seatbelt wouldn’t let him move any further to the left, he smirked right
back. “What’s your definition of a kinky-ass threesome? It could vary
wildly from mine.”
Walker’s voice was barely above a whisper. Hunter could feel it
tickling against the sensitive skin of his neck. “I wouldn’t want to
offend your delicate sensibilities, doc, I am a renaissance man, after
all.” His dick was instantly hard and digging against his stomach.
“Chicken.” Walker arched an elegant eyebrow at him. “My
definition of a kinky-ass threesome would involve big cocks, a fist,
not quite enough lube and hours of Viagra-fueled spit-roasting.”
Well, checkmate, asshole… Hunter had to swerve to keep the
truck on the road. He heard Walker chuckle seductively, felt his
breath ghost across Hunter’s cheek, making the hairs on the back of
his neck stand up. “I was just going to suggest a gag and a vibe or
two, but hot damn, doc. You don’t play around.” Hunter shook his
head. He had a vivid imagination. It wasn’t hard to picture the doctor
down on all fours in front of a raging fire, while one big black stud
took him from the back, ceaselessly pounding him forward onto an
equally impressive Latin cock, choking Walker with every thrust. Shit!
Was that racist? He didn’t suppose so. It was three hot men with
giant dicks. That was all that mattered. Dicks! Maybe Walker’s back
would be striped with previous money shots…
“Jesus, Hunter! Eyes on the fucking road!” Walker reached out to
grab the steering wheel. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I was just imagining a multi-racial gangbang in my head. You
were the main course. Is that racist?” Hunter rubbed a hand against
the back of his neck.
Walker burst out laughing. “Why are you asking me?”
“Well, because you’re… And I’m…” Gah! There was no way
Hunter was saying those words out loud. He had one month of
freedom left and he wasn’t going to spend them defending himself
from charges of being a racist dick.
“Because I’m black and you’re white?” Walker asked. He was still
grinning.
“It does sort of make you a subject matter expert. Right?” Hunter
offered a shaky grin. He wasn’t any good at this P.C. bullshit. None
of it existed in 1918.
“Was I enjoying myself?” There was a hint of laughter in Walker’s
voice.
“What?” Hunter was totally lost now.
“As the main course in your fantasy multi-racial gangbang. Was I
enjoying myself?”
“Fuck, yeah! You were moaning and drooling and jacking
yourself…” Hunter should stop elaborating. Keep it simple, stupid.
“Yes, Walker. You were enjoying yourself. Immensely.”
Walker reached out to whack the back of Hunter’s blond head.
“OW!” Hunter grumbled, rubbing his head.
 “No, asshole, it’s not racist! Jesus Christ.” Walker rolled his eyes.
“Cisco and I have a history.”
Hunter had to stop and think for a minute why Walker was all of a
sudden talking about Cisco.
Oh… His original question, the one that had led them down the
multi-racial gangbang rabbit hole, had been about Walker’s weird
attitude around Cisco and Luca. “History of the one-night sort or one
that’s longer and a bit more tangled?”
“We were together for about a year. It was sort of on the down
low. Not that we were ashamed to be together, just more that we
were busy people and we didn’t get to see each other much.” Walker
shrugged.
“I get it. You fucked things up and were hoping for the opportunity
to set things right again and that’s when Luca sank his fangs into
Cisco. Now you feel awkward and off-balance around their diabetes-
inducing love.” Hunter hit the blinker, turning the truck down Walker’s
street.
“How did you know that?” Walker unbuckled his seatbelt, turning
around to face Hunter.
“Another part of my curse is that I’m awake in the stone. I can
see and hear everything that’s going on around me. The only thing I
have to do with my time is people-watch. I guess you could say I’ve
become a subject matter expert at that over the centuries.”
“You in the mood for some ice cream?” Walker asked. “I think I’ve
got some mint chocolate chip in the freezer.
Call him crazy, but Hunter, with his knowledge of people, was
pretty damn sure the only thing he was about to wrap his lips around
was the sweet caramel skin of Walker’s cock.
 
 6

Walker
Walker was certifiable. What the hell was he thinking inviting
Hunter in for ice cream? Was it because the man understood what
had gone on between himself and Cisco and hadn’t judged him for
it? Was it because he was fucking lonely and pitiful? And why the
fuck couldn’t he find the right key? Walker had tried four already and
none of them were unlocking the damned door.
“Can I help?” Hunter asked from behind hm. His body fitted
against Walker’s like they’d been made from the same mold. Taking
the set of keys, Hunter got it to work on the first try. Setting his hand
on Walker’s hip, he grinned against the back of his neck. “I’m good
with my hands.”
That was the fucking understatement of the century. Walker’s
dick was so hard it hurt. Not that this was the time to be thinking
about Cisco, but he couldn’t ever remember his dick being this rock-
hard with the chief. He’d keep that little piece of data to himself
though.
“You gonna invite me in, doc? Or are we gonna stand here all
night with my needy-as-fuck dick digging into your sweet ass? I
mean, I could fuck you right here against your front door, but your
nosy neighbor looks like she’s about to dial 911. I’d hate like hell for
Cisco to be the one to break up the party before I get your dick down
my throat.”
Walker cleared his throat delicately. He wanted to drop to his
knees right now and worship the giant piece of man-meat
threatening to skewer him alive, but Mrs. Ortega was the chattiest
old biddy on the block. He didn’t want to give her gossip for her
Wednesday night prayer circle.
Turning his head, he could see her peering through her blinds
like the worst spy ever. Hunter hitched his dick against the crack of
Walker’s ass, reminding him that he was there. Like Walker could
fucking forget. Making a decision he knew he might regret come
morning, Walker opened the front door.
Hunter wrapped an arm around Walker’s mid-section and carried
him into the house, kicking the door shut behind him. Setting him
back on his feet, he went instantly for Walker’s belt, then the catch of
his pants.
Walker couldn’t believe this was happening to him. Hunter has
his pants around his ankles and his dick in his hand in three seconds
flat. It had to be some kind of dick-handling record. If records like
that were kept.
Why the fuck was he thinking about inane shit like that when a
gorgeous man with fucking hand-powers was jacking him off like a
pro? Maybe he needed a CT scan? While Hunter was busy beating
his meat with one hand, the other was trying to get his shirt off. Talk
about multi-tasking. “Let me help.” Walker ripped his shirt off.
“Thank Christ. I wondered if you were writing your next PhD
thesis in your head and I’d have to do all the work myself.” Hunter
chuckled against Walker’s skin as his left hand was free to roam at
will now.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a mouthy bastard?” Walker
knew he was pushing his luck. Hunter’s hand was heaven on his
long-neglected cock. The last thing he wanted to do was alienate the
only man who’d touched it lately, himself excluded.
 “You want to shut me up, doc?” Hunter tugged on his earlobe
with sharp teeth.
In an instant the hand around his cock was gone, as was the
soothing, almost drugging warmth against his back.
“That looks about just the right size to do the trick.” Hunter
winked and hit his knees. Still fully dressed, he put his hands behind
his back and opened his mouth wide.
Motherfucker… Who the hell knew the centuries old demon
slayer had a touch of submission in him? Grabbing a handful of
blond curls, Walker pulled Hunter up to the head of his leaking dick.
He waited, wanting to see what Hunter would do. There were so
many options. Would Hunter take the initiative and choose one or
wait to be told what to do?
His eyes narrowing, Hunter seemed to be studying the situation.
In an instant, his head darted forward. His pink tongue licking out to
taste, then devour Walker whole.
Walker’s brain felt like it was short-circuiting. He watched in
amazement as Hunter worked him over, gagging on his cock one
moment, pulling back to lavish his shaft with ice-cream cone licks the
next. No one had ever sucked Walker off with such care or
enthusiasm before. Hunter acted like his dick was silver and he was
eager to polish it.
Bringing his hands from behind his back, Hunter pushed against
Walker’s thighs. He made mewling noises in the back of his throat.
Pleas for Walker to open up, he imagined. Obeying, Walker
lengthened his stance. He was instantly rewarded with Hunter’s
eager hands on his balls. One caressed the delicate flesh, while the
other gave a short, fast tug on his short hairs. Walker cried out. The
sharp flash of pain combined with the sensations coursing through
his cock nearly had him coming on the spot.
Grinning around his mouthful, Hunter slipped the index finger of
his right hand into his mouth. When he pulled it out, it was soaked in
his saliva. He winked at Walker and went back to sucking his dick.
Lost in Hunter’s sinful mouth, Walker had forgotten about
Hunter’s finger until he felt something cool and insistent pressing
against his dark hole. Letting out a needy moan, he pushed back
against the intrusion and Hunter slid home. It might just have been
Walker’s imagination, but he would swear on a stack of medical
journals that he could feel sparks of electricity coming from Hunter’s
finger. Which was ridiculous, right? Maybe so under ordinary
circumstances, but not with a lover who had magical hands.
Crooking his finger over just the right spot, Hunter moaned,
sending vibrations down Walker’s shaft.
Those insistent vibrations in harmony with the electricity from
Hunter’s finger set him off. His cock jerked hard. Walker felt his
entire body convulse with the force of it. He vaguely felt Hunter’s left
hand take his hip with an iron-grip.
His eyes slammed shut against the intensity of his release. Wave
after wave burst from his slit, which ached from the power of the
stream. Colors like Walker had never seen before burst before his
eyes; redder reds and bluer blues. It was as if he were seeing color
for the first time. He dug his own fingers harder against Hunter’s
head, hoping he had enough strength left in him to hold on.
One last weak trickle escaped his weary dick and he knew he
was finished. “Hunter…” Walker managed before he started melting
toward the floor. The last thing Walker remembered feeling were
Hunter’s strong arms catching him before he hit the kitchen floor.
 

Hunter
In all of his years of fucking men, and they were considerable,
Hunter had never seen a lover respond to oral sex like that. Jesus
Christ, his performance was so good that Walker passed out.
Passed the fuck out!
Hunter knew he had skills. Hell, a man picked shit up over six
hundred years of doing the forbidden dance, but that was the first
time in his life a lover had hit the deck after busting a nut.
He hated being crass like that, but in truth, it was the only
weapon he had in the battle to keep his heart safe. Yeah, he’d
caught Walker before the brilliant doctor slammed his brilliant brain
against the travertine tile. That was just good manners. What worried
him was the way he’d carried the naked man into his living room and
covered him up with a warm throw.
That would also come under the heading of good manners,
Hunter supposed. Sitting in a highbacked chair for the rest of the
night watching over Walker while he slept fell under something else
entirely. It had been centuries since he’d spent an entire night with a
lover when he wasn’t actively involved in nut-busting, for lack of a
more appropriate term.
There really was no explanation for why he was still sitting here in
Walker’s house. Hunter could have just tucked the doctor in and left
a note on the counter. “It was fun! Catch you later.” Or something
equally cheesy, but something held him back from doing that very
thing.
Once the mantle clock had chimed out four bells, Hunter figured it
would just be rude to leave now, this close to when Walker probably
needed to get up for work.
Just then, there was movement from the couch. An almost dainty
hand lifted high into the air to stretch, followed by the cutest little
yawn Hunter had ever heard in life. He would never say this out loud,
but that sound alone cracked the stone around his cold, dead heart.
“Morning, doc.”
“Oh, shit!” Walker hissed from under the blanket. “You’re still
here, Hunter?”
“I was waiting for my turn.” Hunter figured riling the doctor up was
the best way to get out the door without needing to have that
awkward morning-after chat.
Walker’s outraged bald head popped up over the blanket. “You’ve
got two hands. Use them.”
Hunter felt an eyebrow shoot to his hairline. “If you insist.” He
stood up, his back muscles screaming in protest. Damn, he must
have been sitting in that one position for way too long. He wasn’t
going to let that stop him from making a point though. His hand went
for his button fly as his erection curled up to meet him halfway.
“Jesus, stop!” Walker pushed himself into a sitting position.
“Shouldn’t I buy you dinner.” He shook his head and yawned. “I
mean that was the most incredible blow job of my entire life. Dinner
at the most expensive place in town wouldn’t cover the cost of that.”
Dropping his hands from his fly, Hunter crossed his arms in front
of his chest. This is why he should have left when Sleeping Beauty
was tucked in and snoring like a baby fawn. A baby fawn? What the
fuck was wrong with him? Walker’s spunk must be giving him
heartburn or something. It wasn’t like him to be whimsical. He was in
so deep right now. Every instinct Hunter had in his entire body was
telling him to run. Run fast. “You don’t need to buy me dinner or
reciprocate, Walker. I was just kidding.”
Walker raised an eyebrow. “You used your hand-powers on me.”
A blush rose up on his cheeks. “In me. I felt it.”
Hunter sighed. “That happens sometimes. You were totally safe.
It’s white magic or something.” Shut up! His brain ordered. His mouth
wasn’t listening though. “It’s only happened like that one other time
in my life and with a woman. I didn’t know it could happen with a
man.” That was something he’d been mulling over while he’d been
watching Walker sleep.
“We can talk about this over dinner.” Walker pushed back the
blanket. Standing up, he stretched, reaching for the ceiling with his
long arms. His morning wood reached high too. “I’m not taking no for
an answer, Hunter. Is Lobster Charlie’s good for you?” Walker
stalked toward him, his erection bobbing against his stomach.
“Are you the dessert?” Hunter licked out over his bottom lip. He
was only inches away from Walker’s cock.
“That all depends.” Walker shrugged. He turned, heading for the
hallway.
“On what?” Hunter called back.
“How cooperative you are!” Walker chuckled.
Well, shit. He was really in deep now. This was the reason he
didn’t get involved past one-night stands. Things got complicated.
Feelings grew, then blossomed. Then, it was Hunter back in his
gargoyle watching another great love grow old, wither, and die.
 

Walker
What the hell had he been thinking? All he had to do was wrap
the blanket around himself and thank Hunter for getting him home.
He could have grabbed an Uber to work, or if worse came to worse,
he could have called Cisco for a ride back to his car.
Oh sure, that would have been fun. Getting the third degree from
his former lover about his current one. Was Hunter his current lover?
Did blow jobs count toward being able to call a man your lover?
Walker snorted. Hell, what he got last night wasn’t even a blow
job. It was a blow job of such epic, mutant X-Man, proportions that
he fainted like an antebellum debutante in a dress cinched up too
tight. He’d had a lot of sex in his life… A lot of sex. Never once had
he passed out from the power of the orgasm.
Power of the orgasm? Christ, if he kept this flowery shit up he’d
be writing sonnets next. Ode to a Blackout Blowjob. Shall I compare
thee to a dewy morn. Hunter sucketh my dick with more skill than
porn.
That’s it. Walker had officially lost his mind. Maybe Hunter sucked
his brain out along with every drop of jizz in his nuts. That’s why he’d
slept so well. The tanks were empty. Both of them.
God, that right there was another reason to classify Hunter as a
lover even if oral wasn’t technically sex. He swallowed like a fucking
champion. It was as if his release tasted like the finest French
champagne. A better analogy was like a drug to an addict.
The look on Hunter’s beautiful face had been the purest bliss, as
if he’d been drinking ambrosia from the font of an Olympian god.
Ode to an Olympian prick… Thy divine essence quenched me to the
quick…Fuck, not that shit again.
Walker shook his head. Sometimes his big-ass brain was too
damn big. He had the tendency to overthink things. Way overthink
things. So, he’d offered to take Hunter to dinner for services
rendered. No big deal. It was just dinner.
Shit, services rendered made it sound like he’d cleaned out
Walker’s gunked-up roof gutters. Worse, it almost made Hunter
sound like a whore. Which he wasn’t, far from it, in fact.
What the hell was wrong with wanting to take a handsome man
out to dinner anyway? Picking up his phone, Walker called Lobster
Charlie’s and made a dinner reservation for 7pm. Next, he sent
Hunter a text letting him know he’d pick him up at 6:30pm.
Crickets.
No matter. Hunter was probably sleeping or out on a tow call or
fucking ignoring him by playing hard to get or some other form of
head fuckery.
When his phone rang a few minutes later, it wasn’t Hunter calling
him back, but Ronan O’Mara. Walker sighed. What on earth could
the Cold Case detective possibly want with him? He didn’t make
house calls. Shit he hoped that one of Ronan’s neighbors hadn’t
heard his little tantrum last night when his car had been boxed into
its parking spot. “Harmon,” Walker answered, hoping his internal
annoyance wasn’t coming through loud and clear.
 “Hey, Harm, it’s Ronan O’Mara. How’s it going?” Ronan’s voice
was filled with unicorns and fucking rainbows.
Only Cisco called him Harm. Walker felt his lips curl into a snarl.
“Good, Ronan. Sorry about last night.”
“Last night?” Ronan sounded honestly shocked. “Oh, you mean
when you got a little hot under the collar about that Osian asshole?
Ten and I thought that it was pretty interesting how you seemed all in
with Hunter.”
Walker had to bite back a growl. He wasn’t all in with Hunter. Was
he? “Yeah, it just seemed kind of odd to me that in all of the years
Hunter has been dealing with that warlock ass-monkey that he never
tried to find a way to break the curse.”
“Ten and I talked about that last night. He reminded me that
libraries weren’t the places they are now through the ages. You
couldn’t exactly walk into one in medieval Wales and take out a book
on spell breaking and witchcraft. He would have to have been careful
with who he spoke to as well.”
“Shit, he never knew if that Osian or one of his people was spying
on him.” Which reminded Walker of Hunter’s gargoyle. He wondered
what he’d done with it this morning. Did he stick it back in his garden
or did he wrap it up and bury it in the yard? How creepy was it that
Osian was using the damn thing as a listening device?
“We just wanted to thank you for agreeing to be there for Hunter.
He’s alone and we’re all coupled up, but for Jude, and he’s such a
horndog that he’d be all over Hunter like,” Ronan snorted. “Well, like
dogs on a three-legged cat.”
Walker had been about to say that he hadn’t agreed to be there
for Hunter, but then Ronan mentioned Jude. He’d seen Jude in
action. That man was handsome and would probably give him one
hell of a ride. One hell of a raging case of VD too if the stories about
the rainbow notches on his bedpost were true and not fake news.
The thought of him and his leaky prick getting anywhere near Hunter
was enough to seal the deal. “You’re welcome. I don’t want to see
him back inside that stone.” That much was true. Walker would do
anything in his power to keep Hunter from being imprisoned back in
the gargoyle.
“None of us do. When I see that warlock douchebag, I’m gonna
punch him in the throat.” Ronan sounded like he was ready to kick
warlock ass and take no prisoners.
Walker laughed. He wanted to be first in line, but he wasn’t going
to tell Ronan that. “And when Osian uses his hand-powers to send
you flying across the room like Hunter did with the prick who hurt
Luca?”
“I’ll say, ‘Weeeeeeeeee, motherfucker!’” Ronan laughed.
Hunter would have to remember that. “Wee, motherfucker” might
end up being their version of “Remember the Alamo.” There were
worse rallying cries on record. Walker would bet the house on it.
“Any luck on finding a way to reverse the curse?”
Ronan snorted. “I was thinking about that last night. You know,
that was the rallying cry in Boston for so long with the Red Sox and
Babe Ruth.”
Walker nodded. There was a famous traffic sign on Storrow Drive
that read “Reverse Curve.” Boston was infamous for its crazy roads.
This S-curve in the middle of downtown was one of them.
Crazier graffiti artists had modified the sign, painting a “the” in the
middle and turning the “V” in “curve” into an “S,” making the sign say
“Reverse the Curse.” It was crazy now that’s what Hunter’s life
depended on, reversing a centuries old curse.
 

Hunter
Hunter loved Lobster Charlie’s. When he first discovered the
eatery, he had four or five meals per week there. So why was it that
he’d typed half a dozen, “thanks, but no thanks,” messages to
Walker in the several hours between when he’d gotten the invite and
now, only minutes prior to when his chariot was scheduled to arrive.
It was just dinner. What was the big deal?
Well, it would have been just dinner if Hunter hadn’t asked if
Walker was going to be dessert while his leaking, morning wood was
only inches from Hunter’s watering mouth.
He was showered, dressed, and wearing his best aftershave.
Hunter guessed that meant he was going to dinner. It wasn’t a date.
It was just dinner.
Nearly jumping out of his skin moments later when the doorbell
rang, Hunter took a deep breath. Just Dinner didn’t ring the doorbell,
did it? Not in his book anyway. Just Dinner honked the horn and
waited impatiently for you to find your wallet and keys before running
out the door.
Steeling himself for whatever was awaiting him behind his front
door, Hunter yanked it open to find a dashing Walker dressed in a
blue button down and jeans. “Damn, Walker.”
“I was just going to say the same thing to you.” Walker’s hazel
eyes roamed over Hunter from top to bottom before making a return
voyage up.
Hunter was also wearing jeans and black polo shirt. Looking at
Walker, he wished he’d put a little more thought into his outfit.
“I’m starving. Are you ready to go?” Walker held his arm out.
Not expecting that act of chivalry, Hunter took it, locking the door
behind him. He’d already shoved his keys and wallet in his back
pockets. As they walked toward the doctor’s Mercedes, Hunter
couldn’t help wondering if the chivalry was going to continue with
Walker opening the car door for him. It did.
“Thanks.” Hunter grinned up at his escort when Walker did that
very thing with the door.
Nodding, Walker pecked his cheek.
Hunter felt a blush rising up from his toes. If he looked in the
mirror he was betting he was going to look sunburned. Well, Just
Dinner didn’t kiss you like that before shutting your car door. Shaking
his head Hunter grudgingly admitted to himself that this night out
with Walker was a date. Maybe now he could relax and enjoy
himself.
The ride to the restaurant was comfortably silent. Hunter watched
Salem pass by, the smell of the ocean getting stronger as they got
closer to the harbor. He loved living in this seaside community. The
idea that he might only have weeks left to enjoy it at his leisure was
gutting.
Walker parked the car and before Hunter could object or
unbuckle his seatbelt, he was opening the door and offering a hand
to help him out of the car. This was different. That was for sure. No
other date had ever done anything like this before. Mostly because
his dates were more of the slam-bam, thank you, Sam, variety.
 Pushing those thoughts from his head, Hunter put his hand in
Walker’s, allowing himself to be pulled out of the car.
Minutes later, they were settled at a table for two with a gorgeous
view of the harbor. Walker was carefully studying the menu. Hunter
knew what he wanted, so he was carefully studying Walker. He bit
his bottom lip every time his date found something appealing on the
menu. His amber eyes would light up, his brows lifting in unison.
He’d leave a finger next to his new favorite on the menu as he kept
reading.
“I can’t decide.” Walker threw his hands in the air moments later.
“What are you getting?”
Hunter grinned. It was on the tip of his tongue to say, “You, to go,”
but he choked that back. “I always get the king-sized lobster roll and
fries. They cram like three lobsters into that thing. There’s so much
meat that the roll lies flat on the plate.” He made a gesture with his
hands like he was opening a book to mimic what happens to the roll.
Walker read back through the menu. “With the butter or the
mayo?” His hazel eyes popped back up, locking onto Hunter’s.
He was sitting with an emergency room physician who was
asking him to choose between butter or mayo. Both answers were
going to be wrong, as was the order of deep-fried, crispy potatoes.
Oh well, you only live once. Or every ninety years, in his case.
“Butter.”
Walker nodded. He echoed Hunter’s meal down to the extra
butter to dip the lobster in when the waitress came to take their order
moments later. “I got an interesting phone call today.”
Hunter grinned. He could only imagine which member of last
night’s party had reached out to him. “Was it that scam call where
the IRS tells you they’re sending sheriff’s deputies to your door to
arrest you for a tax bill you haven’t paid?”
“No! Of course not!” Walker rolled his eyes.
“When I get that call, I tell them the cops are already here and
does my spam caller want to speak to them?” Hunter winked at him.
Walker laughed. “What happens then?
“Sometimes they hang up on me or they start to yell, telling me
this isn’t a joke.” Hunter had a bizarre urge to reach out a hand to
Walker. While they sat looking out at boats moving in and out of
Salem Harbor, he wanted Walker’s hand in his. Giving his head a
small shake, he turned his full attention to Walker’s original
statement. “Who called you?”
“Ronan. He wanted to thank me for being so ardently on your
side in all of this since we’re the only two in the group not coupled
up.” Walker took a long sip from his iced tea.
Hunter felt his eyes start to bug out. “The set up was obvious. I
had a feeling those two were going to try to push us together since
Jude has a wandering dick.”
Snorting, Walker started to laugh. “What does Jude’s dick have to
do with Ronan and Tennyson pushing us toward each other?”
“I think Jude’s dick decides a lot of the goings on in this little
friend group. Don’t get me wrong, Jude strikes me as the type of
man who knows how to show a guy a good time, but for the poor
gargoyle who’s about to be consigned to another ninety years hard
time, I don’t think Mr. Happy Dick is the guy who’d be my Braveheart,
if you know what I mean.”
“You think Ronan believes I’ll inspire you to fight for your
freedom?” Walker looked stunned.
 “I do.” Hunter nodded. It was a risky thing to say, but he was
saying it anyway.
“Why haven’t you thought to do that in the past. I know you said
you tried destroying your gargoyle, but…” Walker trailed off as if he
wasn’t sure how to finish that thought.
“Don’t feel like you have to walk on eggshells with me, Walker.
Say what’s on your mind. Osian seems to know my every move. I
think part of it is the fact that my damn gargoyle is a listening device.
I’ve also wondered if he’s got people on me, like this is some low-
budget fucking spy thriller. The other thing is that I’ve never really
known where to go for help before. This is the first time and place
I’ve ever been to where witches and vampires are out in the open
and not dirty secrets hiding from the world in some rundown cabin
out in the woods. That’s why it’s so important to me that my gargoyle
stay here in Salem if this all goes badly for me.” Before Hunter knew
what was happening to him, Walker was holding his hand. Finally.
“I promise you that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you here in
Salem.” Walker brushed his thumb against the side of Hunter’s hand.
It almost felt like Walker had been about to say, “With me.”
Hunter didn’t know why he got that feeling, he just did. The absolute
last thing he wanted was to spend the next ninety years in that god-
forsaken stone, but knowing Walker would be his knight in shining
armor made the scenario a bit less terrifying.
 

10

Walker
 Instead of driving Hunter back to his house, Walker drove back to
his house instead. If Hunter was going to fuck him into the next
century, have dessert rather, then it wasn’t going to be with that nosy
Osian listening in like some warlock peeping Tom.
Hunter grinned over at him when he took the right-hand turn
toward his house. Walker didn’t say a word. He didn’t even smile. He
just kept driving, thanking Christ the whole way that he’d stocked up
on condoms and lube the day after he and Hunter met.
The second the door was shut and locked behind them, Walker
shoved Hunter back against it, kissing him as if he were a
suffocating man and Hunter was oxygen. He felt Hunter’s hands
come up to grip his hips and dig in. Walker moaned into Hunter’s
mouth. He wasn’t really one for being man-handled, but Jesus
Christ, his dick was so hard right now that rubbing against Hunter
was likely to set him off.
Just as Walker was getting used to the idea of creaming his jeans
like a horny high-schooler, Hunter was gently pushing him back.
“Kitchen sex was fine the first time, but how about we switch up
the geography for round two?” Hunter was panting for breath, his
blue eyes so dilated with arousal, they were nearly black.
Walker liked that idea. If he was going to return the favor, he
didn’t want to get tile marks in his knees from the grout. Taking
Hunter’s hand, Walker led him to the bedroom. He flipped the lights
on and turned back to his renaissance man.
Hunter’s eyes were roaming over the room, done in tasteful
shades of blue, before returning to Walker. “Do you have all the
supplies we’ll need?”
 “What, like ball gags and vibrators?” Walker couldn’t help but
think back to their conversation from last night about his fantasy
threesome.
Cupping the sides of Walker’s face, Hunter shook his head no.
“Condoms and lube. I just wanted to make sure all of your incredible
body was in play before I get my hopes up.”
Christ! He thought he was the poet in the room. Words like that
could make him come, cock untouched. “Take off your clothes. I
want to see you. The only hint of flesh I saw last night was a peek
down your shirt when you were sucking my dick.”
Nodding, Hunter went for the hem of his black polo shirt pulling it
over his head and ruffling his blond curls into a crazy riot which he
didn’t bother trying to smooth down.
Walker was torn, should he start taking off his own clothes too or
should he just stand and watch as Hunter revealed himself this first
time? Fuck it! He clawed at the buttons on his blue shirt undoing
them as quickly as his nimble fingers would allow. By the time he
ripped his shirt, and one beneath it, over his bald head, Walker was
surprised to see Hunter, still only shirtless, staring at him with an
amused smile on his face. “What are you waiting for?”
“Your eyes on me. I didn’t want you to miss any of the action.”
Hunter dropped a sexy wink before reaching for the button of his
jeans. He kept his eyes on Walker as he undressed himself.
Walker knew Hunter was staring at him, probably watching for his
reactions. His eyes were glued to Hunter’s magic hands as they slid
the button through the slot, and with an agonizing slowness that
would have made a sloth impatient, pulled down the zipper.
 He wouldn’t have pegged the sexy-as-fuck gargoyle as the tighty-
whitey sort, but there they were, peeking out of his jeans. They were
so white, they almost blinded Walker. He watched with rapt attention
as Hunter used the heels of his hands to push the jeans off his hips.
Progress stopped to pop everything over the head of his uncut cock,
which had Walker licking his lips and taking a step forward.
“Like what you see, doc?” Hunter toed his shoes off before
bending over to push his jeans the rest of the way off.
“You are magnificent. It’s as if you were sculpted by-” Walker
gasped, a hand fluttered to his mouth. “Jesus, I’m sorry, I…” Walker
spun around, burying his face in his hands.
Hunter was behind him a second later, wrapping his arms around
Walker’s bare torso. “Never apologize. I’ll never be offended by
anything you say to me, especially when you’re about to compliment
my magnificent body.” He grinned against the back of Walker’s neck,
before lightly nipping at the skin there.
“Every touch drives me wild, Hunter.” Walker’s dick, jutting out of
the waistband of his boxers was testament to that.
Hunter tugged on the thigh of Walker’s jeans. “Why are you still
dressed then?”
The warmth of Hunter was gone the next second. Walker turned
to see him bouncing on the mattress, positioning himself on the
pillows with his arms behind his head, as if he were settling in to
watch the show. The last thing Walker wanted to do was disappoint
him.
Making quick work of his button and zipper, Walker pivoted
around so his ass was facing Hunter.
 “Mmm,” Hunter moaned. He reached out to lightly swat Walker’s
jeans-clad rear end.
A tingle ran down Walker’s spine straight to his cock. Jesus, the
things this man did to him. He eased his jeans and boxers down his
hips with deliberate slowness, making sure Hunter got a good view
of his assets before bending straight to the floor in a perfectly
executed big toe pose. He was sure his yoga instructor would be
thrilled. Right now, all that mattered was looking behind him to see
Hunter leaning over the edge of the bed about to swipe his tongue
over his balls.
“Fuck! Hunter!” Walker grabbed his ankles for support. He was
glad he did a second later when Hunter’s silky tongue slid over his
hole. The warm heat instantly relaxed, but aroused him further. His
poor dick, pointing straight down at the floor, like a useless third leg,
twitched.
“You like that, huh? Getting your ass eaten out.” Not bothering to
wait for an answer, Hunter went back to work dipping and swirling his
tongue against the tight furl of muscle.
Walker had never felt anything like this in his life. Truth be told,
he’d never let anyone else do this to him before. Feeling the
shockwaves of pleasure rioting through his body with each deft
stroke of Hunter’s tongue he had to wonder why.
Hissing seconds later when he felt the cool sensation of his
lover’s probing finger instead of the heat of Hunter’s tongue against
his ass, he pushed back, letting Hunter in. Walker knew this time
there wasn’t going to be blow job to accompany this invasion. He
tried to relax and open himself up to Hunter as much as he could.
“How do you want me?” Hunter’s gruff voice asked.
 Turning to stand up, Walker saw Hunter leaning on one elbow,
his cock slicked, suited up, and ready to roll. Walker didn’t know how
to answer the question. He said the one word echoing in his mind,
“Forever.”
Hunter’s eyes narrowed on Walker. With lightning fast reflexes,
Hunter grabbed him and pulled him onto the mattress to lie beneath
him. Bending low, Hunter kissed him gently, barely brushing their lips
together.
Walker reached up to run his hands along Hunter’s flanks,
dancing the tips of his fingers along the tanned skin. He wanted to
touch every inch of Hunter’s skin in an effort to memorize all of him.
Every freckle. Every scar. He needed to know everything about the
magnificent man who was about to own his soul.
He wasn’t surprised when gentle kisses weren’t enough for
Hunter. His lips became more demanding. His hands pawed down
Walker’s body touching his skin, feeling and searching until they
reached his thighs which he pushed apart.
“Yes, Hunter.” Walker spread his long legs as far apart as they
would go, bending his knees to give Hunter easier access to him. He
cried out again when the blunt, slick head of Hunter’s dick pressed
against his loosened hole.
“Forever,” Hunter whispered in return, his blue eyes baring his
soul as he breached Walker’s body.
Neither man cried out when Hunter was completely sheathed
within Walker’s body, they simply stared, wide-eyed at each other.
Walker couldn’t help thinking Hunter’s whispered word sounded
like a promise. Whatever it was, promise, affirmation, or one of those
stupid things lust-addled brains spat out just before orgasm, Walker
would take it and hold it close to his heart.
Hunter’s hips began to move in a gentle rolling motion, like waves
on the ocean. Lifting his ass with his heels, Walker matched him
thrust for thrust. They were moving in-sync, taking each breath
together.
The eye contact was intense. Neither man blinked. Walker’s
hands had stopped their exploration on the dip of Hunter’s back, just
shy of the swells of his ass. He ached to press forward, to possess
the twin globes of flesh, but was wary of doing anything that would
break the spell that seemed to have been cast over them.
Crying out when Hunter angled his hips a tick to the left, seemed
to bring out something feral in Hunter. His blue eyes darkened. The
gentle kisses turned carnal. His hands, which had been resting on
the sides of Walker’s face were suddenly gone. Hunter was suddenly
gone.
In a flash, Walker found himself flat on his stomach with his ass
perched high in the air.
“Better find something to hold on to,” Hunter whispered, as he
surged deep into Walker’s body. One hand clutched his hip. The
other snaked under his torso to anchor to Walker’s shoulder.
Walker did as he was told. He grabbed hold of the headboard
slats just as Hunter started to pound into him from behind.
“So fucking tight,” Hunter moaned in his ear. “Your body fits mine
like glove.”
His thrusts were precise and demanding. Between the brutal
pace and the dirty talk, it wasn’t going to take much for Walker to be
coming all over the bedspread.
 “Gonna come, Walker. Gonna come so deep inside you’ll never
get me out.” Hunter bellowed Walker’s name, gripping him tighter.
Walker’s cock jerked when he felt Hunter’s dick pulse inside him.
His thrusts became frenzied, less precise. Hunter continued to cry
out for him, calling him beautiful in three languages. When his hips
stilled, Hunter rolled them onto their left sides. He was quiet after
that, seemingly content to just hold Walker in his arms.
There was something warm and wet against the back of Walker’s
neck. Tears. He would carry that to his grave, along with the wetness
sliding down his own cheek, melting into the pillowcase.
 

11

Hunter
Hunter didn’t know how long he stayed curled around Walker.
Long enough for his dick to come back to life. That was for certain.
As much as Hunter wanted round two, he and Walker needed to talk
more. How fucking bizarre was that?
“Walker, you awake?” The ER doc was lying against his heart.
They’d stayed glued together for about half an hour after round one.
Hunter didn’t want to risk an accident with the condom, otherwise
they’d probably still be in that same position. When he’d come back
to the bedroom, Walker was under the covers. Hunter had joined him
there.
“Yeah.” His hazel eyes peered up, while his right hand traveled
down.
Knowing he was absolutely crazy, Hunter reached down to grab
Walker’s wandering hand and brought it back up to his chest. “We
should talk.” Shit, those words sounded awful.
Walker pushed away from Hunter. He sat up, pulling a pillow into
his lap.
“It’s not that kind of a talk, Walker.” Hunter rolled his eyes. “Shit,
I’m doing this all wrong. I’ve never done this before.”
“Done what, let a guy down easy?” He crossed his arms over his
chest, his lips curling into a pretty pout.
“No, talk after sex!” Hunter snorted. “Usually, I would have been
gone five minutes after you finished shouting my name.”
“Oh, so I should be thankful you’re still here?” Walker’s hazel
eyes burned with anger.
“Jesus, Walker!” Hunter threw his hands in the air. “I want to talk
about fucking Braveheart!”
Walker raised a quizzical eyebrow. “You want to fuck Mel
Gibson? He’s a little old for you, don’t you think? Definitely not as hot
as he was in Braveheart or the Lethal Weapon movies. Then there’s
the whole doesn’t believe in the Holocaust, nuttier than a shithouse
rat…thing. But, it’s your dick.” Walker shook his head, looking
dumbfounded all the while.
Hunter stared at Walker like he was the shithouse rat. “Did I bang
your head against something when I was fucking you?”
“No, why?” Walker sounded confused.
“I’ll start again from the beginning.” Hunter took a deep breath.
“Remember the other day when Ronan said he thought you would
inspire me to fight to find a way to break the curse?”
“Oh!” Walker started to laugh. “Oh, you were talking about me
being your personal Braveheart, not about wanting to fuck…” Walker
set the pillow aside to lean over and kiss the frustrated look off
Hunter’s full lips. “I’m with you now.”
“Thank Christ. I was afraid I’d have to draw you a picture.”
Hunter’s lips quirked into a smile. As quickly as the smile broke over
his face, it faded. “It might not work, you know?”
“What, breaking the curse? I get why you’d think that, but we
have a lot of good people in place to help you.”
“Good people are fine, Walker, but what I need are people
capable of defeating the most powerful warlock in existence.” Good
defeated evil in a lot of cases, but they needed powerful magick to
break the curse holding him hostage.
Walker frowned. “How do you know he’s the most power warlock
in existence?”
“What?” Hunter was stunned by the question. “Of course, Osian
was the most powerful warlock, he said he was all the time.”
“Before you’d said his name the other night I’d never heard of him
before.” Walker shrugged.
“You aren’t a warlock or a member of the magick community.
Why would you have cause to know his name? I can’t list off any
other doctors in emergency medicine aside from you.” Hunter
sneered.
“None of the Salem Witches had heard of him either. Callum
Churchill had no idea who you were talking about when you said his
name,” Walker spat back.
“Why are you being so stubborn about this?” Hunter didn’t
understand how this talk had gotten off track so fast.
“Why are you? Look, if you say the name of any prominent doctor
in emergency medicine in the world, I’ll know his name, Hunter. I can
see you’re getting frustrated, but just hear me out.” He set a hand on
Hunter’s arm. “If this Osian truly is the most powerful warlock then
people in the witch community will have heard of him. But if he isn’t,
if he’s only been feeding you a line of bullshit for all of these
centuries…”
Hunter gasped. “Then his spell might be easier to break?”
“I don’t know. All I’m saying is that Callum Churchill didn’t
recognize his name. Men like Osian, narcissists, don’t usually hide in
the shadows toiling in anonymity. They like their work to be out in the
open. If he’s a major player, I’m sure Callum will be able to find
something on him.”
“Looking into him could also bring him to me sooner.” Hunter
shivered. He only had a small window of freedom left to him as it
was. The idea of losing only one precious minute was heartbreaking,
but if this work brought him a lifetime of freedom, it would be worth it.
“I thought of that too. We need to get this plan to come together
fast, just in case,” Walker agreed.
Hunter pulled Walker into his arms.
“What would happen if you joined Osian?” Walker whispered. “I’m
not suggesting you do it. I’m just playing devil’s advocate here.”
Breathing out a harsh breath, Hunter tried to organize his
thoughts. “You know people use that phrase all the time, devil’s
advocate. I hear it every day tossed around so carelessly. You don’t
want to be an advocate of the devil, Walker. Trust me. He has
enough creatures doing his bidding. It goes against everything I am
to become what Osian would make me. The best way to describe it
would be like a Jew becoming a Nazi or an African American
becoming a member of the KKK.” A full-body shiver tore through
Hunter.
“I’m sorry, Hunter. I didn’t know.” Walker reached out to hold
Hunter’s hand.
“It’s okay. I don’t hold that against you.” Hunter pressed a kiss to
Walker’s head. “Yes, I’d get to stay here in Salem and live my life
free of the stone, but aside from going against everything I believe
in, I’d be under Osian’s control. Who knows what else he’d make me
do? I assume that if I refused, it would be back into the rock for me.
Or maybe he’d have a worse fate in store.”
“What do you mean a worse fate?” Walker shivered.
Hunter pulled Walker into his arms, rubbing his hands over
Walker’s arms to warm him back up. “Well, he’s been trying to get
me on his side for six hundred years. Can you imagine how pissed
off he’d be to have me for a while and then lose control of me again?
I can’t imagine it would be pretty.”
“No, I don’t imagine it would be,” Walker agreed, moving closer
into Hunter’s chest.
“Plus, there’s another thing,” Hunter said quietly.
“What?”
“Remember my demonstration of my hand-powers at Ronan’s the
other night?”
“You mean when they didn’t work?”
Hunter nodded. “I’m not sure where my gift comes from, Walker.
Is it God given? From the universe? From some other entity or
power we don’t know about yet? I don’t know. What I do know is that
these powers were given to my family to be used for good against
the powers of evil. I don’t think they can be used for Osian’s
purposes.”
“I hate to say this, Hunter, but there must be a way to rewire
them, otherwise, what good are you to him?” Walker’s voice was
filled with worry.
Shivering, Hunter pulled Walker closer. He was chilled to the
bone by his words. He’d never thought of his situation in those terms
before. What if there was some way to reprogram the white light of
his gift into something dark and nefarious? Hunter whispered a silent
prayer it wasn’t possible.
 

12

Walker
Two days later, everyone reconvened at Hunter’s house. There
was food and laughter and one very large sledgehammer leaning
against Hunter’s gargoyle. Walker knew what Hunter was going to
do with it.
 “Harm!” Cisco Jackson called out. “Long time, no see!” His dark
eyes twinkled with amusement.
“Yeah, well you’re still working double shifts.” Walker grinned at
his former lover.
“Rumor has it you’ve picked up a night shift of your own.” The
chief elbowed his side.
In a city as small as Salem, gossip had a way of traveling at light
speed. Walker rolled his eyes, refusing to dignify Cisco’s remark with
a response. Hell, what would he say? That he and Hunter were
knocking boots? That they were friends with benefits? That they
were fucking each other until Hunter turned back into a statue? He
sighed.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Cisco put a hand on his shoulder. “Look at all the
people here today. We’re gonna figure this thing out. Then, we’ll start
planning your wedding.”
Wedding? “Christ, Cisco, are you taking those iron pills I
prescribed? Your cart is so far ahead that the horse isn’t even a glint
in the stallion’s eye yet.”
Cisco burst out laughing. “You can’t bullshit me. I’ve been here
for twenty minutes and I see the way the two of you are looking at
each other. Those shy glances filled with so much heat that you’re
going to catch something on fire!”
“We like each other, okay?” That was all Walker was willing to
concede. “Unless we figure out a way to break Hunter’s curse, it’s
not going to amount to anything though.”
His dark eyes turning sad, Cisco clapped a hand on Walker’s
shoulder. “Look at all of the brilliant people here tonight to help make
that happen. Then he’s got you.”
 “What do I have to do with it? I’m just a doctor. I’m useless here.”
Walker felt his spirits sagging.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. You’ve got the most powerful
force on earth on your side.”
“Oh, yeah, what’s that?” Walker had no idea what the hell Cisco
was talking about. If Cisco kept talking like this, he was going to
bring him in for a full physical and a CT scan.
“Love,” the chief said simply. “It can move mountains, heal old
wounds. Maybe even break curses.” With that pronouncement,
Cisco was gone.
Walker shook his head, watching as the chief of police hurried
over to Luca who was laughing with Greeley Fitzgibbon and
Tennyson.
Love. Was it possible? Walker had only known Hunter for a short
time. The sex was off the hook, that was for sure, but did he have
feelings for his gargoyle that were stronger than pure animalistic
lust? He’d go to battle and fight to the death to keep Hunter from
having to return to the stone, so maybe, just maybe, Cisco had a
point. A very small point.
“Hey, everyone! Can I have your attention?” Hunter called out. He
was standing near his gargoyle with the sledgehammer in both
hands. Over his blue eyes were a pair of safety goggles and he was
wearing a pair of sturdy work gloves.
Walker moved closer to Hunter. He couldn’t help snapping a few
pictures of his man looking so rugged and handsome in his flannel
shirt and jeans. It was hot as blazes on this August night, but Walker
knew he was covered up in case pieces of stone went flying.
 “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t share things about my life like this, but
Walker and I have been spending time together. It was, uh,
suggested at our last meeting that a kiss could possibly break my
curse and I’m happy to report we’ve, um, tried that.” Hunter was
blushing so hard, his hands were pink.
Catcalls and cheers went up from their friends.
Walker had known this little speech was coming, but it still curled
his toes to hear Hunter talk about him like this.
“We’ve also tried other things…” Hunter trailed off. “You know,
just in case we needed something stronger to break this curse.”
“What other things?” Jude Byrne called out from the back of the
crowd.
“All the things, Jude. We tried all the things.” Hunter laughed.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Walker.” Hunter’s smile was ear to ear before he
turned back to Jude. “He’s mine, so hands off, Magnum.”
Wow… Walker hadn’t seen that declaration coming.
“Anyway,” Hunter looked around at everyone. “Like I said the
other night, I’ve tried destroying the gargoyle before, but the next day
it’s put back together again. I figure that destroying it now is the only
way to tell if what Walker and I have been doing broke the curse.” He
shrugged and reached into his back pocket. “I want you to have the
first swing.” Hunter was holding a second pair of gloves and goggles
out to Walker.
“What?” Walker was stunned. “I don’t understand.”
“Up until now, I’ve been the only one to swing on the stone.
Maybe since you’re the one who kissed me and…stuff, you need to
break the gargoyle too.” Hunter shook his head.
 Walker understood what point he was trying to make. Hunter
didn’t want to take any chances. He nodded, taking the safety
equipment from Hunter. He didn’t want to do anything that would risk
hurting his hands. Assessing the gargoyle, Walker determined the
most vulnerable spot on the statue seemed to be its ears.
He suited up with the gloves and goggles before taking the heavy
hammer from Hunter. He pecked a kiss to Hunter’s lips, much to the
delight of their friends. Kneeling down before the gargoyle he did the
same to the statue. “Fuck off, Osian,” he muttered.
Getting back to his feet, Walker raised the hammer high over his
head. Whispering a silent prayer, he swung with all his might. The
reverberation of striking the gargoyle rang through his entire body.
Seconds later, Hunter was there, picking him up off the ground and
wrapping him in his arms.
“Nice job, you whacked my ear clean off.” Hunter hugged him
tight. “Now stand back with everyone and let me take it from here.”
Hunter framed Walker’s face in his gloved hand before kissing him
gently.
Walker didn’t want to let him go, but he had no choice. Hunter
was striding back toward the statue with the hammer in his hands.
He moved back into the crowd of their friends fifty feet away.
Tennyson came up to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
Everyone watched in awe as Hunter hit the statue, knocking it
apart swing by swing. When he was finished, there was nothing
identifiable left. Only a pile of rubble. Walker whispered a silent
prayer that Hunter’s nightmare was finally over.
 
 13

Hunter
The curse wasn’t broken. When Hunter woke up the next
morning the gargoyle was sitting in its usual spot in the backyard,
whole and undamaged. He had a feeling that would happen. True
love only worked magic in fairy tales. This was the real world. It was
going to take something more powerful than drugging kisses and
gallons of come to break him free from Osian’s grasp.
He’d put on a brave face for Walker when he’d seen the gargoyle
sitting in the yard smirking at them. Hunter had twisted the blinds
across the sliding glass door and had given him a five-star blow job
before sending him off to the hospital. They’d see each other later.
Callum Churchill had planned to cast a curse-breaking spell by
the light of the full moon tonight out on Gallows Hill. He claimed
there was a lot of magick in that place as it was the spot where
nineteen of the accused witches in the Salem Witch Trials had met
their fate.
Hunter didn’t know if that was the case, as that hallowed ground
was the site of such tragedy, but since Callum’s great-grandmother
so many times removed was one of the Trials’ victims, he was willing
to run on faith here.
He had homework of his own to do before the ceremony tonight.
According to Callum, he needed to write down all the effects of the
curse on a slip of paper in red ink. That had been simple enough.
He’d also needed to put a container of water in the sun at noon so it
would be charged by the bright midday rays. He was to bring the
water, the slip of paper, and a bay leaf with him tonight.
 Walker was edgy as fuck when Hunter picked him up after work.
He sat stone-still in the truck the whole way to Witch Hill Road.
Hunter didn’t like this side of him. He turned to his lover when he
parked the truck. “It’s going to be okay, you know.”
“Witchcraft,” Walker mumbled. “Modern medicine has been trying
to steer patients clear of it for centuries and here we are resorting to
it under the light of the full moon.” He turned to offer Hunter a weary
shrug.
“Different cures sometimes work for different patients, right?” It
was the only answer Hunter could come up with to pacify the doctor.
“I suppose.” Walker sounded like it cost him a lot to make that
admission.
“Let’s see how this goes. What’s the worst that can happen?”
Hunter leaned forward to press a kiss to Walker’s cheek.
“He could turn you into a frog.” Walker frowned.
“Now come on, that’s just an old wives’ tale.” Hunter popped
open the door to the truck. “And besides, all you’d have to do is kiss
me and poof! I’d turn into a prince.”
“Queen more like.” Walker burst out laughing.
Everyone was gathered on the hill next to the Black Cat Inn.
Hunter walked over to greet Tobin and Niall, the owner of the inn.
“She’s looking pretty as a picture.” Hunter hitched his thumb back
toward the newly restored bed and breakfast. The old Victorian
mansion had fallen into disrepair after being abandoned due to its
being haunted.
“Tobin and his crew have done a hell of a job getting her ready for
her grand reopening in a few weeks. We’re so excited. We want you
and Walker to come stay with us the week before during our friends
and family week.” Niall looked back and forth between them.
“Niall means during the trial run week. We figure that if we have
our friends stay with us for the first few days, you all can tell us
what’s wrong and we can fix it before actual guests are staying with
us.”
“Damn it, Tobin,” Niall gritted out. “They are actual guests.”
Tobin snickered. “Paying guests, I mean.” He rolled his electric
blue eyes and pressed a kiss to Niall’s head.
“I’ll keep it in mind if I’m still around.” Hunter shrugged. “You
know, Walker, this might be a nice place to keep my rock if the shit
hits the fan. I’d have a pretty view of the hill and you could come see
me all the time.”
Walker narrowed his eyes at Hunter and stomped off.
Well, shit. Hunter hadn’t expected that to happen. He turned to
Niall and Tobin. “I’m kind of new to this relationship thing. What the
hell did I say?”
The couple exchanged a wordless glance between them. “Well, if
Walker is as crazy about you as I think he is,” Tobin started, “then
mentioning a resting place with a view for your gargoyle isn’t exactly
the most inspiring thing you could say to him at the moment.”
Niall nodded. “I know how scary the idea of you spending the
next ninety years inside that rock is, Hunter, but if the worst does
happen, to Walker, it will be like you died. He’s thirty-five years old. I
know they’re making advances in medicine all the time, but he’d be
one hundred and twenty-five years old the next time you’re freed.” If
he’s still alive, was left unsaid.
 Damn, he’d really gone and stuck his foot in it this time. “I get
what you’re both saying, but I have to be realistic here. Each and
every time I’ve done something to try to avoid going back into the
rock, it’s failed. Granted I haven’t had Tennyson and his band of
psychics, witches, and vamps on my side before…” Hunter turned,
easily spotting Walker by the light of the roaring bonfire. He was
chatting with Tennyson and Ronan. “I’m crazy about him too. I tried
to keep my feelings out of this and just have a good time with him,
but its too late for that. If…” Hunter sighed. He looked back and forth
between Niall and Tobin. “When he struggles, remind him that I…
shit!” Hunter strode off, not wanting his friends to see him lose it.
There would be plenty of time for that later.
Hunter was making his way over to Walker to apologize for
sticking his foot in his mouth when Callum Churchill called out for
everyone’s attention. Shit! Making up with the doctor would have to
wait until Salem’s own warlock was finished with him. Hunter just
hoped he didn’t end up turned into a frog. Walker was just as likely to
fry up his legs for dinner as he was to kiss him now.
“Hunter? Would you come forward, please.” Callum was wearing
purple robes that shimmered in the firelight. The hood was down, as
was the warlock’s long blond hair. Usually, he wore it in a pony tail
hanging down his back.
As Hunter made his way through the crowd, he felt pats on the
back from his friends. He was never so happy to have them all
around him tonight. Not that he’d say it out loud, but Callum scared
the fuck out of him. He knew the warlock had the very best of
intentions, but Osian had left a centuries-old bad taste in his mouth.
 He approached the small altar which Callum had erected in front
of the fire. “Hey, Callum.” What the hell else did you say to a
warlock?
“Did you bring the things I asked of you?” Callum asked loudly
enough for everyone to hear.
Fuck! Walker had them. He turned to find Walker. Not seeing him,
Hunter started to panic.
“I’m here, Hunter.” Walker approached the altar, but wasn’t
making eye contact with Hunter. He set the vial of water and the
Ziploc bags containing the other items down before melting back into
the crowd.
Hunter wished Walker would have stayed with him. He shook his
head. He’d been on this journey alone for six hundred years. He
would be fine standing here alone while Callum performed his spell.
“Are you ready to begin?” Callum’s blue eyes bore into Hunter’s.
Nodding, Hunter took a deep breath.
“Roll the bay leaf in the note you wrote containing the curse,”
Callum directed. His hands were joined together inside the long cuffs
of the flowing robe.
Hunter did as Callum asked, rolling them together like a cigarette.
He hoped the next step wasn’t to smoke them. He had a feeling
Walker would flip out, even with as mad as he was at the moment.
“Good, now, place them in this bowl.” Callum placed a small
silver bowl in front of Hunter. “When you are finished use this willow
branch to bring some of the fire back with you.”
Once again Hunter did all of the things the warlock asked, no
matter how ridiculous he thought they were.
 “Set fire to the curse, Hunter!” Callum ordered, his voice was
filled with urgency.
Hunter hurried to obey. The paper caught instantly. The fire
burned black, shooting sparks of bright purple toward the stars. He
watched in awe as the fire consumed everything in the bowl.
“Douse the ashes in enough water to make a bit of a paste. Mix it
with your finger.”
Picking up the vial of sun-charged water, Hunter did just that. The
ashes, to his surprise, were stone-cold. How was that possible? The
water he’d added was warm and the paper had just been on fire.
“It’s the curse,” Callum whispered. “This is the blackest magick
I’ve ever encountered in my life.” He pushed a small clay doll toward
Hunter. “Paint the ash-paste onto the clay doll.”
Moving the doll closer to himself, Hunter could see there was
something inscribed in its torso. It was his name. Shaking his head,
he spread the cold paste all over the doll. This was definitely the
creepiest thing he’d ever done in his life, spreading the ashes of his
burnt curse on a clay effigy of his body.
“You will speak the words to break the curse and when you are
finished, you will smash the clay doll to smithereens. Understood?”
Callum’s blue eyes bore deeper into his own.
Hunter nodded. He was terrified of what was to come. He’d never
spoken magickal words in his life.
Callum pulled a small scroll from his robes which he handed to
Hunter before sliding a hammer toward him. “Blessed be, my
brother.” He set a hand on Hunter’s before stepping back.
Unrolling the scroll, Hunter quickly read the words written there.
He looked up to find Walker in the crowd. He was standing between
Tennyson and Ronan with his head resting on Tennyson’s shoulder.
Hunter offered him a brief smile before turning back to the paper. “No
more befouled, again unbound, again unbidden. As water meets fire,
this spell is come undone. As water meets fire, this spell is now
broken. As water meets fire, I am free. Blessings to the Gods, so
mote it be.”
He set down the paper in exchange for the hammer. It was just
an ordinary claw hammer, like the kind you’d use to bang a nail to
hang a picture. Taking a deep breath, Hunter swung.
Sparks flew when metal struck clay. The doll exploded in a hail of
purple light. Black smoke billowed up from what remained of the
figurine. Hunter couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see. He could move his
arms and feet which was a good sign. It meant he wasn’t back in the
stone. Choking on the thick smoke he couldn’t help thinking Osian
might not get to reclaim him after all. He might get his angel wings
tonight instead.
 

14

Walker

Walker’s heart was in his throat. The burst of purple light blinded
him. It reminded him of something the Boston dance clubs used to
do when they’d play Prince songs, only he didn’t hear Raspberry
Beret. The explosion that followed knocked him off his feet.
“Hunter!” He bellowed when he came back to his senses. Walker
had no idea how long he’d been out. It could have been only
minutes. It could have been hours.
 It was against his oath to be focused only on Hunter. He’d make
up for that later. Sitting up, he saw that it was pitch black. The bonfire
had gone out and the light of the full moon was gone too. Had it
already set? Or was it just hiding behind a cloud? Walker was fucked
if he knew.
Looking around he could see his friends lying on the ground. He
thought he could see Tobin starting to sit up. “Tobin?”
“Yeah. What the fuck was that?” Tobin sounded dazed.
“Black magick, I’m guessing. Help the others. I need to find
Hunter.” Walker rolled to his feet, his back aching in protest. He must
have hit the ground hard after the blast. “Hunter? Callum?” Reaching
into his back pocket, he pulled out his iPhone and tried to pull up the
flashlight app. “Ow, fuck!” The screen was cracked and he’d sliced
his finger on a rough edge. Thankfully there was enough clear
screen to activate the light.
He picked his way over the rocky ground to get to where he
thought the altar had been, “Hunter! Callum!” He thought he heard a
moan to his right. The beam of the light caught on a leg, moving
closer, he knew it was Hunter.
Hitting his knees, Walker started moving his hands up Hunter’s
body searching for broken bones and signs of blood. Thankfully, he
found neither. His fingers found the pulse point in his neck and found
his heartbeat was strong. “Hunter? Jesus, Hunter, wake up.” Setting
his right ear against his chest, he listened to one lung and then the
other. Both sounded clear.
“Everyone’s okay,” Tobin said from behind him. “A few cuts and
bumps, but other than that, we’re all good. How’s Hunter?”
 “He’s just unconscious.” Walker looked up at Tobin. “I can’t find
Callum. Can you look for him?”
“Oh, we’ve got him. The blast blew him over the altar and back
toward where we were all standing. He’s got a cut over his eye, and
he’s shaking like a leaf, but other than that, he’s okay.” Tobin knelt
down beside Walker. “Are you okay?”
Walker shook his head. “I walked away from him. Stomped off
like a toddler having a tantrum. I could have lost him tonight and I
never told him how I feel about him.”
“No time… like present…” Hunter coughed. His blue eyes blinked
open. “Am I a frog?”
Tobin started to laugh. “I’ll leave you two alone to sort this out.”
“No, you’re not a frog.” Walker laughed. Hunter had almost met
his maker and that was the first thought in his fool head after he
regained consciousness?
“Does that mean I don’t get my kiss?” Hunter looked
disappointed.
“You were almost blown to bits and all you can think about is a
kiss?” All Walker wanted to do was kiss him. He was damned glad
Hunter was alive.
“Well, I was thinking about getting jiggy since we’re both lying in
the grass, but all of our friends are here and you know Jude would
pull out his phone and put us on Facebook Live.”
The last thing Walker wanted to deal with was another potential
sex tape scandal. He groaned at the mere thought of it.
“How do you feel about me, doc?” Hunter asked, pulling Walker’s
mind back to the present.
 “I was so scared that I’d lost you. That Callum’s curse-breaking
spell blew you to bits.” Walker shook his head. If he lived to be a
hundred, he’d never forget the feel of the percussion wave slamming
into his body. It was like hitting a brick wall.
“That’s how you feel about what happened tonight, not how you
feel about me.” Hunter snorted.
Hunter made a good point. Why the hell was Walker so reluctant
to say the words? “I’m crazy about you, Hunter. The thought of
finding you only to lose you is driving me insane.”
“I love you too, Walker.”
“Wait! I didn’t say those words.” Walker gasped when he realized
what Hunter had said. He loved him. Hunter was in love with him.
Sitting up with a wince, Hunter cupped Walker’s shocked face in
his dirty hands. “I love you, Walker.”
Walker couldn’t breathe. He was feeling lightheaded. He couldn’t
focus on anything but Hunter’s lips. Those words, those precious,
precious words were echoing in a loop inside his big brain. What the
hell did he do now? Take a chance, his big brain suggested. “I love
you too, Hunter.”
Hunter started to laugh. “Well, thank Christ, I was afraid you had
a concussion or something.” He moved to stand up. He stumbled for
a step, but caught his balance.
“Shit! I should have checked you for signs of a concussion. Some
doctor I am.” Walker climbed to his feet and shined his light in
Hunter’s eyes.
“I noticed you feeling me up, doc.” Hunter snorted, batting
Walker’s hand and the phone away.
 “I was checking you for bleeds and broken bones, Hunter. I
wasn’t feeling you up.” Walker rolled his eyes.
“Not even a little bit?” Hunter sounded disappointed.
Walker started to laugh. “No, not even a little bit.” Since Hunter
seemed no worse for wear, he hoped to do that when they got home.
They were both badly in need of a shower.
“Are you okay, Callum?” Hunter asked when they rejoined the
group.
“Just a little cut above my eye. I’m fine.” The warlock offered
Hunter a smile.
“There goes his chance to be the cover model for Witch Fancy.”
Jude burst out laughing.
“Eat a bag of dicks, Jude!” Callum shot him the finger. It was
shaking badly.
Walker had to bite back a laugh. That was the most
ungentlemanly thing he’d ever seen Callum do in the time he’d
known the warlock. He should definitely be checked for a
concussion.
“Let’s focus for a minute, everyone.” Hunter rubbed his eyes.
“Callum, What the hell happened?”
Callum sighed. “Well, near as I can tell my magick hit the curse
and ricocheted.”
“You mean like a fired bullet that hits something and flies right
back at you?” Ronan asked, sounding alarmed.
“Something like that. This curse is so strong that my spell to
break it bounced right off it and exploded in Hunter’s face.” Callum
shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Hunter. I had no idea this would
happen.”
 “Of course you didn’t.” Hunter set a hand on the warlock’s
shoulder. “We’ll have to try something else, that’s all.”
Walker could see from the look in Hunter’s eyes that after two
failed attempts to break the curse, he was running out of hope.
 

15

Hunter
It amazed Hunter how quickly he’d made himself at home in
Walker’s house. Here he was in the middle of the night raiding his
lover’s fridge. Set out on the kitchen island were the makings for
sandwiches, leftovers from some kind of chicken stir-fry, and two
types of ice cream. Hunter wasn’t sure where to begin. He was
leaning toward the ice cream.
“Stop in the name of the law!” Walker called out from the kitchen
door.
Hunter snorted. “Are you making a citizen’s arrest?”
“I should. What the hell is all this?” Walker shook his head as he
looked over all the food Hunter had taken out.
“I’m a growing boy and we didn’t eat dinner.” Hunter patted his
stomach.
“You’re six hundred and thirty years old. I think you’ve stopped
growing.” Walker laughed.
“Oh, yeah! Take a look in my briefs. There’s something growing in
there.”
“You’re insatiable.” Walker took a seat on one of the stools on the
opposite side of the bar.
 “Yeah, well, insatiable is hungry. He needs fuel.” Hunter pointed
to his dick with a butter knife stained with spicy mustard.
“Fine,” Walker rolled his eyes. “I’ll have one of those ham
sandwiches too and some ice cream.”
“Now you’re talking.” Hunter reached behind him for a clean bowl
from the drying rack.
“And how about another order of I love you?” Walker rested his
chin in the cups of his hands.
“I said it first last time.” Hunter leaned across the counter to kiss
him.
Walker sighed like a teenaged fanboy. “I love you, Hunter.” He
batted his eyelashes.
“I love you right back, Walker.” He cut the sandwich he’d been
making for himself in two, giving half of it to the doctor.
“What’s on your mind? It’s not like you to be up like this after
going as hard as we did tonight and that was after you got blown up.”
Walker took a bite of his sandwich.
“Osian’s coming. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but he’s coming.
First, we had that meeting at Ronan’s house. Then I destroyed my
gargoyle. He knows what we did tonight. I’m sure of it. I’ve never
fought back like this before. He’ll show up early and make me pay by
taking away these last few months of my freedom.”
“Callum seemed pretty sure about this reversing spell,” Walker
offered.
“Yeah, well he was pretty sure about whatever the fuck it was he
did tonight too and it blew up in my face. Literally.” Hunter shook his
head. “We need a stronger warlock. Like a wizard or something.
Harry Potter, only real. There has to be someone like him out there,
right?” Hunter knew he sounded like he was on the edge, but this
was it, they were running out of time and options.
“I hear what you’re saying.” Walker leaned over the counter. “If
you had cancer, I’d get the best oncologist in the world to treat you.”
Hunter nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. The guys
said they might know someone like that, but I was afraid to ask. I
didn’t want to be that guy. They’ve done so much for me. I don’t want
to come off as greedy or ungrateful.”
“Hunter, it’s not like you’re mooching money or asking for a free
place to stay. This is a time-sensitive matter of life or death. If we
can’t figure out a way to beat Osian, none of us will ever see you
again. Maybe Greeley will, or Luca if he’s immortal. Who the hell
knows…” Walker trailed off.
“I’m so sorry about what I said earlier about sticking my gargoyle
on Gallows Hill.” Hunter walked around the counter to pull Walker
into his arms. “I didn’t think about how saying something like that
would hurt you.”
“It’s not that, Hunter.” Walker buried his face in Hunter’s chest.
“It’s the thought of you being trapped in that rock. Of you being able
to see and hear everything going on around you and not being able
to be a part of our lives. You have to watch our lives go on without
you. Watch our families grow and watch us age and then die.”
Hunter could feel Walker’s tears, hot and wet, against his bare
skin. “I didn’t want to fall in love with you, Walker, because I knew
this is what would happen. If we kept things loose and easy, I’d just
be some random lover you’d look back on fondly when this was
over.”
 Walker pushed back from him with an incredulous look on his
face. “How can you say that? How can you think that after knowing
you even for five minutes that I could ever look back on my time with
you as casual? You are magnificent, Hunter Conroy, the most
remarkable man I’ve ever met in my life. Only seconds after meeting
you I knew there was something special about you. My heart wanted
to beat in time with yours the moment we met.”
Hunter was about to brush him off. To tell Walker those were just
words you said when you were about to lose the love of your life
forever. Words Jack would have said to Rose before he stuck her in
that damned lifeboat while he stayed behind on board the Titanic to
die. Then he saw the look in Walker’s hazel eyes and knew they
were all true. “I’ve never loved like this either, Walker. I don’t want to
spend a minute apart from you, but if we don’t break the curse, then
I’m lost to you forever.”
Walker held on tighter.
“Let me plan a date night for us tomorrow night,” Hunter
whispered.
“A date night?” Walker peered up at him.
“Leave everything to me. It will be the time of your life. I
guarantee it.” Hunter felt Walker rest his face against Hunter’s
beating heart. Hunter couldn’t help but think “the time of his life”
sounded like the beginning of the long goodbye.
 

16

Walker
 It was odd walking into the Salem Police Department. He’d called
ahead so Cisco knew he was coming, but it was still bizarre to be
standing in the front office being watched by the chief’s officers. He
very much doubted anyone knew about his film debut or the fact that
Cisco had stolen that evidence to save his black ass, but his nerves
were on edge all the same.
“Harm!” Cisco called out, hitting the buzzer to open the door.
“Come on in. You’ve never been here before, have you?”
Walker shook his head. He had never been to the SPD before.
His relationship with Cisco had never been on the down low, but
they’d never paraded each other around like shiny muscle cars
either. “No, I never made it down here before.”
Cisco walked him back to his office, settling himself behind his
desk after shutting the door behind Walker. “I can’t imagine what you
want to talk to me about. That was quite a show last night. Scared
me and Luca half to death. You wanna hear the strange thing about
it?”
“Stranger than a burst of purple light and explosion caused by a
hammer striking a clay figure?” Walker rolled his eyes. If those things
didn’t qualify as strange, he didn’t know what else would.
Cisco nodded. “Yeah, stranger than that. Local 911 didn’t get one
call about it. Neither did the police department’s phone numbers. No
one in Salem, not even the people who live out on Witch Hill Road,
reported anything.”
Walker frowned. “Do you think it’s that Osian prick keeping all of
this under wraps? Hunter keeps talking about how powerful he is.”
“Maybe.” Cisco agreed. “I have a lot of concerns about this,
Harm. I gotta tell you. If this warlock fucker comes here looking to
hurt Hunter or the rest of us for standing with him, I don’t know what
good our tactical gear would be against that. Not that I’m going to let
that stop me.”
Walker hadn’t thought about that. He should have, though.
Usually, the potential for casualties and how to treat them was
always foremost in his mind. Now, that position was held by Hunter.
“I can see your brain spinning over there, Harm. Spill it.” Cisco
wore a knowing grin.
“What you just said about your tactical weapons maybe not being
enough to stand up to Osian. You thought that out. Thought ahead. I
always do that, but I didn’t this time. All I can think about is Hunter.
How to keep him safe. Ways to break this fucking curse so he can
stay here with me. Jesus Christ, Cisco, I even suggested that he
take Osian up on his offer to join him so he wouldn’t have to go back
into the gargoyle.”
Cisco burst out laughing.
That wasn’t the reaction Walker had been expecting. “Have you
lost your mind, Cisco? Asking Hunter to join Osian is like asking you
to join ICE.”
The laughter died in the chief’s throat. “I was laughing because
you finally understand what I was telling you about me and Luca.”
“That thing about how you speed home to be with him?” A few
months back, Cisco had reminded Walker that neither one of them
ever broke the speed limit to get home to each other or woke the
other one up in the middle of the night to say, “I love you,” one last
time.
“Right. You get it now, don’t you?” Cisco’s grin was a mile wide.
 Walker nodded “I do, Cisco, and it’s ripping me apart inside. I
know I fucked our relationship up. Cheating on you was the worst
mistake I’ve ever made in my life. You didn’t deserve someone who
treated you like that. Christ, I don’t even know why I did it. Shit, he
wasn’t anyone special. I can never take back hurting you like that.
Now, I’ve found my soul mate. I’m convinced that’s who Hunter is
and I’m going to lose him if this thing goes south. Is this Karma?
Payback? God answering my prayer and taking it back in trade for
hurting you?” Walker felt tears pricking the backs of his eyes. “I won’t
survive losing him.”
“You know I don’t put much stock in a higher power, Harm.
Saying that though, I also don’t believe in that kind of Karma either.
Yeah, you cheated on me, but if you believe in an eye for an eye, me
breaking up with you evened the score, right? The slate is wiped
clean so far as I’m concerned.”
“Yeah.” He was glad Cisco felt that way, but that wasn’t going to
help him keep Hunter free of the stone.
“As far as Hunter is concerned, we’re going to figure this thing out
and break that damn curse.” Cisco sounded pretty damn sure of
himself.
“Callum isn’t powerful enough. We need someone stronger. More
skilled. Hunter said we need the real-life version of Harry Potter.”
“Didn’t Ronan and them say they thought they knew someone?”
Cisco rubbed a hand against the back of his neck.
Walker nodded. “Whoever it is needs to get here now. There isn’t
any time to lose.”
“I’ll deny it if you ever repeat what I’m about to say, but trust
Ronan O’Mara. He might be a gigantic pain in the ass but you can
trust him. He’ll go to battle for you and Hunter, that’s for damn sure.
There’s no one else I’d want to have my back in a fight.”
“I remember how upset he was the night Lyric Vaughn was hurt in
that car accident. I never told you this, but he sent me a letter
thanking me for saving her life.”
Cisco snorted. “I’m not surprised. He tries to come off all badass,
but he’s a big fluffy marshmallow on the inside.”
“Oh, I’m definitely telling him you said that!” Walker laughed. It felt
good to let loose and just be himself again for a few seconds.
“I can see how tired you are.”
“Between not wanting to miss a moment with Hunter and being
worried and scared about Osian ringing my doorbell, I’m not taking
very good care of myself.”
Cisco narrowed his dark eyes. “Cut the shit, Walker. Get some
rest. You can’t fight a Jedi Master warlock on an empty stomach,
running on no sleep.”
Walker didn’t want to say the words out loud, but he didn’t think
he could fight a Jedi Master warlock on a month’s sleep after eating
prime rib. Thinking like that wasn’t going to save Hunter. If he had
any chance of saving his soul mate, he was going to have to dig
deep for every drop of strength he had.
 

17

Hunter
In all the time he’d lived in Salem, Hunter had never been to
West Side Magick. He’d driven past the storefront more times than
he could count, but he’d never gotten up the nerve to park his truck
and go inside. Until today.
It wasn’t what he’d expected. Although, to be honest, he wasn’t
really sure what he’d expected. Would there be witches roaming the
aisles? Black cats to twine around his legs? Wizards-in-training
waving magic wands while shouting out spells?
“Good morning, Hunter!” Carson Craig greeted. He was standing
near the cash register.
“Hi, Carson.” All of a sudden, Hunter’s nerves kicked in. His
stomach was tossing like a paper boat in a hurricane.
“DA! DA! DA!” Tiny voices shouted.
Turning around, Hunter saw three toddlers running into the store
from the bakery next door. “Now that looks like a whole lot of sugar-
smeared trouble.”
“My husband assured me he had them wrangled. Maybe you
could grab one? They tend to spilt into three directions like
velociraptors.” Carson darted out from behind the counter.
“So long as they don’t chomp on my skull and gut me with that
razor-sharp claw.” Hunter moved in the opposite direction and
plucked up one of the girls who started laughing at him.
“Oh, Hunter, thank you,” a harried looking Truman panted when
he ran in grabbing the third toddler. He was wearing more powered
sugar than any of them.
“Care to explain the jail break, warden?” Carson laughed.
“I didn’t anticipate them sliding under the booth when the donuts
ran out.” Truman rolled his eyes. “Maybe high chairs were a good
idea.”
 “Who have I got here?” Hunter asked, using his thumb to rub
powered sugar from the little lady’s cheek.
“That is Bertha. She’s named after my mother who opened this
store back in the 1980s,” Carson answered. “We lived upstairs in the
apartment above the store, which is where Cole and Cassie live now.
This is Brian and Truman has Stephanie.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Bertha.” Hunter grinned down at the little
cherub in his arms. The baby had her hands on his face and seemed
to be studying him.
“Hey, Hunter!” Tennyson greeted as he walked in from another
part of the store. I was on the phone with a client or I would have
been out here sooner.”
“I should have called for an appointment. I wasn’t sure what to
do.” Hunter shrugged, jostling Bertha who started laughing again.
“I don’t need my gift to see you’re a natural with kids.” Ten’s eyes
narrowed as he seemed to be sizing Hunter up. “I’m free now if you
want to chat?”
“I’ll take her,” Truman offered. “I’m used to wrangling them two or
three at a time.”
“I’ll come help you clean up in there. I’m sure it looks like a
tornado tore through that booth.”
“Maybe the one next to it as well.” Truman laughed.
“Come with me, Hunter.” Tennyson led him to a part of the store
that was office space. It was brightly lit with areas for private
consultations and offices. “This is my reading room.” Ten opened the
door, ushering him inside.
“I’ve never done this before.” Hunter took a seat at the table. He
looked around the room, his eye catching on the large statue of
Buddha. “You think anyone’s in there?” He shivered.
Tennyson cocked his head to the side before setting a hand on
the metal statue. “I’m not getting any voices from it.”
“I can’t speak when I’m in the stone.” He could hear every word
going on around him though.
“Do you have your inner voice, like a running monologue with
yourself?” Ten pulled his hand back from Buddha’s head.
Hunter nodded.
“I’d be able to pick that up. There’s no one in my Buddha.” The
psychic looked relieved.
Hunter nodded. He was feeling on edge today, Tennyson’s bit of
news relaxed him a bit.
“This has been such a long, arduous journey for you.” Tennyson
took his seat at the head of the table.
“Six hundred years is no joke,” Hunter agreed.
“That night out in the Salem Towne Forest, I could feel you
behind me. I didn’t know what you were, but I knew you were on my
side.”
“That was my demon slayer form. Gargoyles have the power to
banish evil spirits to different realms. That’s the real reason for my
hand-powers as Walker calls them. It’s pure white light. It only
worked to throw Pete Smith across the lobby of the college building
because he was a living person, but on a spirit like Gideon Black, it
sent him back to Hell.”
“Your powers aren’t strong enough to defeat Osian on your own?”
Ten asked.
Walker shook his head. “Osian is a living being too. He has the
power of black magick on his side and I guarantee when he returns
for me this time, he won’t come alone.”
“Are you talking about other supernaturals, or other warlocks.”
Tennyson’s eyes narrowed on Hunter.
“Maybe both. I’m not sure. Every other time he’s come it’s been
him and Seren, the fallen angel he used to trap me back in Wales in
the fifteenth century.” Hunter knew full well that all manner of
creatures were attracted to Osian’s dark magick. Hell, he could show
up with a dragon for all Hunter knew.
“You mentioned not wanting to join him back in 1418 because
you’d have to fight and kill your family. Do you think there are
descendants left who would join this fight now?” Tennyson sounded
like he had a plan in mind.
“It’s possible, but we wouldn’t be fighting fire with fire, if you get
my meaning. We need to fight the power of a warlock with a more
powerful source of magick. Demon slayers can’t defeat him. It would
be like using a water gun against an assault rifle.” Hunter hated
making that analogy, but it was fitting. Osian would pick off other
demon slayers like an NFL running back mowing down a Pee-Wee
football team’s defensive line.
Ten shook his head in seeming disappointment. “What can I do
for you, Hunter? I know you have some questions on your mind.”
“I came here today to ask for your professional help, Ten. Can
you see anything about this at all? About my future?”
Frowning, Tennyson shook his head. His eyes slipped shut and
his right hand tapped on the table like he was playing the piano to a
melody only he could hear in his mind. Ten’s dark eyes popped back
open to focus on Hunter. “I’m seeing one picture. It’s a castle. I know
that for sure. High up on a rocky hill. It looks impenetrable. There are
rounded towers and I can see a flag flying.”
Hunter’s head dropped. He had a feeling he knew which castle
Tennyson was talking about. “Is the flag half green and white with a
red dragon in the middle of it?”
“It is. Do you know that castle?” Ten asked curiously.
“It’s Harlech Castle back in Wales. My original gargoyle sat on
the craggy stone walk leading to the front door of the keep for the
first ninety years of my imprisonment.” Stone-cold fear tingled down
his spine. “Does that mean I give in and join Osian, Ten? That castle
was the base of his operations in the fifteenth century.”
“I don’t know, Hunter. I’m only seeing that one image. What I do
know is you. I can’t imagine that you would agree to join him for any
reason.” Ten reached out to set a hand on top of Hunter’s.
“Walker,” Hunter whispered. “I’d do it to save Walker.”
Ten shut his eyes. “Damn! I’m not seeing anything about that at
all.” Ten pulled out his iPhone and started tapping buttons.
“According to what I’m seeing on Google, the castle is open to the
public. It’s a tourist attraction. No one lives in the castle.” He flipped
the phone around to show Hunter. “That’s the castle I’m seeing, for
sure.”
“I can’t believe how unchanged it is since the last time I saw it all
those years ago. Well, except for the visitor parking lot.” Hunter
huffed a rough laugh.
“I bet they have a gift shop too.” Ten snorted.
Hunter sighed. The only reason he could think of that Tennyson
would be seeing Harlech Castle was because Osian had plans to
bring him back to Wales. “Looks like I’m going home.”
 
 18

Walker

Hunter rang Walker’s doorbell at 7pm on the dot. He escorted

Walker to the passenger side of the truck, opening the door for him.
Walker was stunned a moment later when his dashing man asked
him to turn around and close his eyes.
Willing to play along, Walker obeyed, not expecting Hunter was
going to blindfold him. He shivered when the cool silk slid around his
closed eyes. Hunter did say tonight was going to be a very romantic
date. This was an interesting way to start things off.
“Can you see anything?” Hunter whispered against his ear.
“Nothing.” Walker felt giddy as a schoolboy.
“In you go then.” Hunter helped him into the truck then reached
over him to secure his seatbelt.
“I assume you don’t want me to see where we’re going, right?”
Walker asked when Hunter was back in the truck.
“Right. I hope you don’t mind.” Hunter sounded nervous.
“I don’t mind at all.” Walker meant every word. He settled back
against the seat and was content to let Hunter’s plan for the evening
play out. He’d obviously gone to a lot of trouble to make this all
happen and Walker was excited to see how the night would unfold.
“Okay, we’re here,” Hunter said a few minutes later. “Don’t move.
I have some things to get ready then I’ll come back for you. No fair
peeking. Okay?” Hunter leaned over to press a kiss to Walker’s
cheek.
“I promise I won’t peek.” Walker would keep his word. He heard
Hunter’s driver’s side door open, then close. A second later, the
driver’s side back door opened and then was slammed shut as well.
With each second that passed Walker’s anticipation grew. No one
had ever planned an evening like this for him in his life.
Walker’s door popped open, giving him a little bit of a start.
“Okay, you ready?” Hunter’s voice sounded buzzy with anticipation.
“I am.” Walker pressed the button to unlock his seatbelt and let
Hunter help him out of the truck. When he was standing on solid
ground, Hunter wrapped an arm around his back.
“I’m going to lead you for a little bit, then I’ll take the blindfold off,
okay?” Hunter brushed his lips over Walker’s.
“Okay. Thank you for this night, Hunter.” Walker meant every
word.
“But you haven’t seen any of it yet.” Hunter chuckled.
“You planned it all for us. I’m sure I’ll love it.”
“I love you with my entire soul, Walker.” Hunter started walking,
guiding Walker with every step.
It was a bit unnerving walking without being able to see where he
was going. He trusted Hunter with his entire being and knew nothing
was going to happen to him, but all the same, he was thrilled when
Hunter stopped walking and moved to untie the blindfold.
“Keep your eyes closed, okay?” Hunter requested.
“Okay. They’re closed.” Walker took a deep breath. He felt the
silk of the blindfold slip from his eyes.
“Open them.” Hunter’s voice was full of anticipation.
Walker opened his eyes, blinking to readjust them to the light.
What he saw took his breath away. Hunter had brought him to a
wildflower meadow. There was a path lit with electric candles leading
to a large, plaid blanket ringed with more candles and a picnic
basket sitting in the middle of it. The sky above was ablaze with
corals and oranges as the sun began to set.
“What do you think?” Hunter asked.
“It’s breathtaking.” Walker turned to look at Hunter. “I can’t believe
you did this for me.”
“For us.” Hunter tugged his hand, leading him toward the blanket.
“All these candles are amazing.” Walker took off his shoes and
settled himself in the middle of the blanket.
“It’s funny how people of this time are so enamored of
candlelight. Where I’m from it’s all we had.” Hunter laughed, joining
Walker on the blanket.
Walker pulled out his phone and snapped pictures of them
together. He wanted as many memories of this night as he could
possibly get.
The pop of a champagne cork grabbed Walker’s attention.
“What’s that?”
Hunter was pouring the bubbly into two glasses. “I thought I’d
kick the night off with a little champagne.” He handed one glass to
Walker, keeping the other one for himself.
“What should we drink to?” Walker pressed a tender kiss to the
side of Hunter’s mouth.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about that all day. About you and
me and Braveheart.” Hunter laughed. “All of the other times my
decade of freedom was up I just accepted it. I refused to join Osian
and took my rightful martyr place in the rock. I’m not going quietly
this time, Walker, and that’s thanks to you. My Braveheart. My love.
My soul mate. My forever.” Hunter clinked his glass against Walker’s
before taking a sip.
 Walker felt tears pricking his eyes. No man had ever said words
like that to him before and he doubted any man ever would again.
He needed to take a sip from the glass before he started crying and
ended up ruining this amazing night.
Tipping the glass up to his lips, something hard hit his front teeth.
“What the hell?” Tipping the flute forward, Walker heard something
metal clink in the bottom of the glass.
“You might want to be careful with that,” Hunter cautioned.
“Hunter, what? I might want to be careful with-” Walker gasped.
He knew what was sitting at the bottom of his champagne glass now.
He held his right hand out, carefully pouring the champagne into it
until the ring landed in the palm of his hand.
“I know it’s not the most creative way to do this, but I wanted you
to be totally surprised and not see it coming.” Hunter shrugged.
“I never saw this coming.” Walker looked down at the ring. In the
growing darkness, it looked like it was brushed platinum set with tiny
diamonds. “It’s gorgeous.”
Plucking it out of Walker’s hand, Hunter dried it off on his shirt.
“Look up.” Hunter pointed up with his finger. There were a million
points of light twinkling overhead. “You shine bright like all of them.
That’s why I picked this place. I wanted to come here with you
tonight and lay out under the stars and tell you that I want you to be
mine for all eternity. Take a look at those stars, Walker. I’ll love you
for as long as they are sparkling in the sky.” He slipped the band on
Walker’s finger. “I wanted the starburst of diamonds on your ring so
that you’d always be reminded of this night.”
Walker’s head was spinning. He looked over their heads to see
the millions of stars sparkling above them. When he looked back
down at Hunter, he could see all the love in the universe reflected
back in his eyes. “Hunter, I’m speechless.”
“If I’d known all it would take to quiet you down was my vow to
love you for an eternity, I would have done it a lot sooner.” He leaned
up to brush a kiss against Walker’s lips.
“Don’t move!” Walker bolted up from where he was sitting. He
plucked a nearby daisy, fashioning it into a quick ring.
“What’s that?” Hunter grinned when Walker sat back down.
“Well,” Walker grinned, “it’s not as flashy as mine, but it’s my vow.
Will you be my infinite love, Hunter?”
Hunter snorted, wiping a rogue tear from his eye. “You had to one
up me, didn’t you? Eternal love wasn’t enough? You had to go for
infinite love?”
“I was always an overachiever.” Walker shrugged.
“In that case,” Hunter pecked his lips, “yes, I will be your infinite
love.”
Walker slipped the daisy ring onto Hunter’s finger.
Cupping the side of Walker’s face Hunter kissed him.
For the first time in his life, Walker left his eyes open. He didn’t
want to miss a single moment with Hunter. Tomorrow wasn’t
guaranteed. He was going to keep his eyes open for every second
possible.
Hunter’s hands moved to take off Walker’s shirt, then his own.
“Lie back.” When Walker obeyed, he quickly took off his pants,
leaving him naked beneath the blanket of stars.
“What if the police find us?” Walker nibbled his bottom lip.
“It’s a good thing we know the chief.” Hunter winked at him.
Seconds later, he was as naked as Walker and digging through the
picnic basket. He came out with supplies.
Walker sat up on his elbows to watch Hunter slick his erection.
He was in no rush, as if they had the rest of their lives under the
stars. He watched as Hunter slipped one finger inside of him and
then a second.
“Lie back. You’re ready for me.” Hunter withdrew his fingers and
pushed Walker’s legs further apart.
It was almost painful waiting for Hunter to get inside him. It had
been too long as it was.
“Love you,” Hunter whispered before pushing forward.
Walker grabbed hold of Hunter’s shoulders, anchoring them
together. Looking down, he could see their bodies were completely
joined. When he looked back up at Hunter, his blue eyes were
smiling down at him.
“Look up at the stars. See? They’re all sparkling for you. Beating
out the Morse code of our love.” Hunter kissed him before Walker
could respond.
Wrapping his arms around Hunter’s neck, Walker held on. He
could feel Hunter’s hips snapping a faster beat, he lifted his hips and
moved along with him. His eyes were wide open, staring up at the
stars.
“Walker,” Hunter whispered. “Love you.” His body stiffened, then
stilled as he whispered Walker’s name again and again.
Feeling Hunter’s shaft pulse deep within him triggered Walker’s
release. He whispered Hunter’s name and held his eternal love as
close as he possibly could under the blanket of stars.
 
 19

Hunter
The text jingle on both of their phones going off at 6:30am woke
Hunter up instantly. Bleary-eyed from a long night under the stars he
had to blink and rub his eyes a few times before he could read the
text message from Ronan. [Avengers assemble. West Side Sweets
7am]
Hunter groaned. Why did Ronan have to be so goddamned
dramatic? Couldn’t he just tell everyone to meet for breakfast at the
bakery?
“Why are you groaning? Are you sore from last night?” Walker
asked on a yawn. His left hand popped out from under the covers,
lifting toward the ceiling.
“No, didn’t you hear our phones go off?” Walker was so damned
cute in the morning with his graceful stretches.
“No, I heard you moaning like an old man in pain.” Walker rolled
toward him, resting his face on Hunter’s bare chest.
“Ronan wants us all to meet at the bakery in half an hour.” As if
on cue, Hunter’s stomach rumbled. They really hadn’t eaten a lot last
night. He was starving.
“Damn, so that means no round five?” Walker winked, his hand
sliding down the flat plane of Hunter’s stomach.
Hunter laughed. “My dick didn’t even twitch at that suggestion, so
the answer would be no. Try me again later though.” Hunter hopped
out of bed and went to his dresser for clean socks and underwear.
“What do you think this is about?” Walker sat up in bed.
 “Hopefully, that wizard Ronan thought someone knew.” Hunter
pulled on a pair of jeans. “I’ve got a bad feeling about today, Walker.”
“What do you mean a bad feeling? Like something bad is going
to happen?” His hazel eyes wore a worried look.
“Like today is the day Osian is going to show up in Salem.”
Hunter shrugged into a tee-shirt. He hoped to God he was wrong,
but he really didn’t think he was.
“Have you ever had this kind of bad feeling before?”
“No, but I’ve never fought back before either. Get dressed. I’ll wait
for you in the kitchen.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were walking into West Side Sweets.
Everyone else was already there with the exception of Tennyson and
Ronan. “Anyone know what this is about?” Hunter asked, looking
around the room.
“It had better be good. I wasn’t planning on sending those two
guys home until around lunchtime,” Jude grumped, crossing his
arms over his chest.
Hunter snorted. Jesus, he really had dodged a bullet by not
getting involved with Jude. He was a nice enough guy and all, but his
dick was more prolific than Tom Brady’s throwing arm.
“Hey everyone, sorry we’re late. We needed to make an
unexpected bathroom break.” Ronan rolled his eyes.
“Not everyone has a bladder the size of Delaware, Ronan.”
Tennyson rolled his eyes. “It was nearly an hour drive back from the
airport and I needed coffee. Getting up at 2am for something other
than a case, sex, or a crying baby sucks the big one.”
“Thank you all for coming and for having to listen to my husband
complain about the size of my legendary bladder.” Ronan shot
Tennyson a dirty look. “I wanted to get you all here this morning to
meet someone special.” Ronan turned to the door and waved his
hand.
Hunter watched as a tall, dark, and handsome man approached
the shop. He was dressed in jeans and a plain, black tee shirt. He
looked to be well over six feet tall. As he got closer, Hunter could see
that he had icy blue eyes.
Ronan held the door open for him. “Everyone, this is Dempsey
McMillan.”
“Hi.” Dempsey waved to the crowd.
“Aww, Ronan, you shouldn’t have. It isn’t even my birthday.” Jude
stepped forward, his hazel eyes blazing.
“Don’t take one more step, Hot Pants.” Ronan rolled his eyes.
“Hunter, this is the wizard we were hoping we could get to come out
here and help you.”
“Christ, all the hot guys are either straight or fucking boy-
witches.” Jude rolled his eyes.
Dempsey batted his index finger in the air and suddenly Jude
flew through the air landing on his ass five feet behind where he had
been standing.
“Fuck me blue! I think I’m in love!” Jude laughed from the floor,
fanning his face.
“Please ignore him, Dempsey. I’m Hunter Conroy.” Hunter held
his hand out.
“Are you sure you want to shake with me?” Dempsey shot him a
wicked grin.
“Hey, any man who puts Jude in his place and on his ass within
five minutes of meeting him is okay with me.” Hunter shook the
wizard’s hand.
“Ronan and Tennyson filled me in on your situation on the drive
back from Boston. I’m up to speed on your original curse and what
you’ve all done to try to break it this time around.”
Thank Christ for Tennyson and Ronan. Hunter’s heart was
pounding like a jackhammer in his chest. “This is my fiancé, Walker
Harmon.” Hunter held his hand out.
The room burst into chaos as Hunter knew it would over that little
piece of gossip. People were hugging him. Other’s were hugging
Walker and asking to see his ring. Saying that everyone was
surprised at the announcement was an understatement.
It hadn’t been Hunter’s intention to propose to Walker, but when
Tennyson said he saw Harlech Castle in Wales, the thought struck
him that Walker might not get to keep his gargoyle after the
transformation. He needed to leave some part of himself with Walker
if the worst were to happen. After he’d left the magick shop
yesterday, he’d gone to the jewelers.
“Do you think you can help me, Dempsey?” Hunter asked after
everyone had calmed back down.
“It’s not like you have a resume we can look at to see your
qualifications,” Walker said.
“And you people think I’m the asshole?” Jude crowed from the
floor. “He’s a wizard, not a fucking accountant.”
Dempsey grinned. “I like him.” He turned back to Walker and
Hunter. “I’ve heard of Osian and I’m familiar with his magick. A lot of
what I do in my line of work is undoing spells, curses, and hexes.”
“There’s a market for that? For real?” Jude asked, sounding
serious for the first time all morning.
 “Yes, a rather large one. There are a lot of people who dabble in
magick. Others who are serious students and take spell casting
seriously. Then you have witches, warlocks, and wizards practicing
both white and black magick. Invariably there’s a lot of magick that is
done that needs to be undone either at the request of the practitioner
or the cursed.” Dempsey looked around the room. “The analogy I like
to use is tattoos.”
“Tattoos?” Callum Churchill snorted from the back of the room.
He sounded like his dander was most definitely in an uproar.
“There’s a lot of buyer’s remorse in tattoos. Drunken tats, ex-
lover tats, misspelled tats, face tats, Tweety bird tats. I mean the list
is endless. There has to be someone to sweep up after the mess
and either remove the tattoos or change them into something else.
That’s what I do.” Dempsey was curiously eyeing Callum.
“So, you’re saying you can either remove Hunter’s Curse or
change it into something else?” Walker asked sounding hopeful.
“I’m going to do everything I can to either remove or reverse
Hunter’s curse.” Dempsey set a hand on Hunter’s shoulder.
“That’s not exactly reassuring is it?” Callum sneered.
Dempsey’s piercing blue eyes focused in on Callum. “I’m
guessing you didn’t know the spell you used the other night to break
the curse would blow up in Hunter’s face, did you?”
“Of course not!” Callum spat back. “Hunter is my friend. I would
never do anything to hurt him.”
The hard look on Dempsey’s face softened. “Of course, you
wouldn’t. I need some time to research Hunter’s situation now that
I’m here with him. I can use all the help I can get, Callum. Are you
in?”
 Callum gave the wizard a sharp nod.
“You’re going to need to hurry, Dempsey,” Hunter said. “Time isn’t
on my side.”
“Why don’t we all have some breakfast and we can get started?”
Ronan looked around the room.
“What are you doing later tonight?” Jude asked Dempsey.
Dempsey burst out laughing. “You, and two more like you couldn’t
handle me, Jude.”
Hunter sighed. Jesus Christ. Osian could show up in Salem at
any second and these were the people he had to count on to keep
him out of the fucking stone: a perpetually horny asshole and an
untried wizard.
God help him.
 

20

Walker
Walker had lived in Salem for his entire life but he’d never been
inside any of the witch shops downtown. Seeing Madam Aurora’s
store was an eye-opening experience. The front of the store
contained clothes and accessories for the modern witch on the go.
The second section contained cauldrons, potions, and other tools of
the trade.
It was the back portion of the store that held the most interest for
Dempsey and the rest of their group. There were reading rooms for
Aurora and Callum, but the third room in the back was a vast library.
Walker was overwhelmed by the number of spell books in the room.
He wondered if Aurora had read them all.
 “Can’t we just look spells up on the internet?” Jude asked.
Dempsey rolled his icy orbs. “Remember what I said earlier about
people casting spells and then needing them to be broken? That’s
the problem with internet spells. You have absolutely no idea what
your casting.”
“I don’t understand.” Jude crossed his arms over his broad chest.
“Say you’re looking for a love spell.” Dempsey’s eyes stayed on
Jude’s. He wasn’t appearing to fall for Jude’s trick of pushing out
biceps to make them look bigger.
Jude cocked an eyebrow. “Go on.”
“So, you go online and look for a love spell and you find one to
try. Then, BAM! Your dick stops working.”
Jude paled visibly. “Why would a love spell make my dick wilt?
Aside from the fact that it’s a love spell.” Jude grimaced.
“Because it wasn’t a love spell it was an erectile dysfunction
spell.” Dempsey laughed.
“Wait you just said it was a-” Jude’s fiery eyes widened. “Ohhh,
the love spell was mislabeled, either mistakenly or intentionally.”
“Exactly. It’s like eating forest mushrooms. Never do it unless you
know what you’re doing. Pick the wrong fungus and it could end up
poisoning or killing you.”
“Or making your dick turn black and fall off.” Jude visibly
shuddered.
“You talk an awful lot about your dick. Is there anything more to
you that just that?” Not waiting for an answer, Dempsey turned and
walked to the furthest bookshelf from the P.I.
“I kind of stuck my foot in it there, didn’t I?” Jude shook his head.
 Walker stared at him for a second. “We all know that you’re good
at your job, Jude. You’re a hell of a man to have in a fight and you’re
a good friend.”
“But?” Jude straightened his spine.
“But, Dempsey’s known you for an hour and in that time all
you’ve done is try to get into his pants and all you’ve talked about is
your dick. That’s all he knows about you. I don’t know if you’re happy
with one-night stand after one-night stand. If you really are, then
great. If you really aren’t, then now is the time to reevaluate. I’m not
saying you have to dive in and get engaged right away, get married
and have triplets.” Walker laughed. “But, I don’t see the harm in
finding a good man and giving him more than one night to earn your
trust and letting him see the good man we all see every day.” Patting
Jude on the shoulder, Walker moved over to where Hunter was
sitting with a gloved-up Dempsey and an ancient-looking book.
“What’s this?” Walker sat across from them.
“It’s a fifteen-century grimoire. Book of spells,” Hunter clarified.
“I think part of the reason the spell Callum used the other night
didn’t work was because it was new magick. We need old magick.”
Dempsey lovingly ran a gloved finger down the side of the book.
Walker nodded. “It’s like anti-venom. If you’re bitten by a cobra
you use cobra anti-venom, not black mamba.”
“Exactly,” Dempsey agreed. “Callum isn’t a bad witch. He just
needs more experience in thinking outside the box.” He turned his
attention back to the book.
Walker watched on in fascination as more books were brought to
the table and spells were read and exchanged. Callum and Madam
Aurora conferred with Dempsey. There was a lot of head shaking
that went on until finally about an hour later the tall wizard tapped the
book. “This is it, Hunter. This is the spell we’re going to use to break
your curse.”
“Seriously? You found it?” Hunter leaned over to read the page.
“I’m going to make some individual amendments for you and
Jude, but then we’ll be good to go.”
“For me?” Jude sounded stunned.
Dempsey’s icy eyes studied the P.I. for a moment. An elegant
brow arched toward his forehead. “You are not unaware of your
powers, Jude.”
All eyes were on the mouthy, oversexed man.
“That is true,” Jude admitted grudgingly.
“You would be a powerful ally in this fight. You have heard of the
power of three?” Dempsey’s full attention was on Jude.
Jude nodded. “It’s not that I’m unwilling to join the fight.”
“What is it then?” Dempsey sounded truly curious.
“That you trust me to be your third.” Jude shook his head. A slow
grin spread across his face.
“Pardon me for asking, but how can Hunter be the second?”
Walker asked, looking back and forth between Jude and Dempsey.
“It’s not that I don’t have total faith in Hunter, but he’s not a wizard.”
“That hurts.” Hunter put a hand over his heart, but winked at
Walker.
“Since the spell was cast on him, he’s going to play a pivotal role
in reflecting it back on Osian.” Dempsey smiled. “Don’t worry,
Walker. He’s in good hands.”
Dempsey turned back to the book and started scribbling notes on
a legal pad.
 Walker sure the hell hoped so. All he had to go on right now was
a wizard he’d known for a few hours reading from a centuries old
book and spouting lines from insurance commercials.
He was about to pull out his phone and check his emails from the
hospital when a crack of thunder shook the whole building. He didn’t
remember hearing anything about thunderstorms in the forecast
today.
“I didn’t know it was supposed to rain.” Ronan looked around the
room at the others.
“That wasn’t thunder.” Hunter looked pale. “That’s Osian’s calling
card.”
“He’s here? Now?” Walker felt his stomach tie in knots.
“He’s standing outside the shop and he isn’t alone,” Tennyson
said.
“Let’s go say hello.” Dempsey was all smiles.
“Jesus, Dempsey, we’re not ready yet.” Hunter sounded scared.
“This isn’t it.” Dempsey set a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. He’s
going to posture. Ask you to join him again and when you say no,
he’ll set the time and place for the final meeting. This has all been
planned out ahead of time. He can’t risk exposure by having a battle
in a public street like the Avengers.”
Walker hoped the wizard was right. He followed behind the group
as they headed out of the store and on to Essex Street. Sure
enough, there were three people standing there. Osian was not at all
what Walker was expecting.
The warlock had short, dark hair and honey-colored hazel eyes.
He was dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt. He looked like any other
tourist in Salem. Under other circumstances Walker would have
called him handsome. A statuesque woman flanked him to his right.
Her flowing red hair made her a show stopper. Walker assumed that
was Seren, the fallen angel. The third person in the triad, standing to
Osian’s left was dressed in black from head to toe and wore a hood.
“It pleases me to see you in such fine health, Hunter,” Osian’s
voice dripped with venom.
“I wish I could say the same, Osian.” Hunter smiled back.
“Look at all of these nice people you’re going to force me to kill
thanks to your willfulness. Unless of course they’re just here to see
you off? Have you chosen to finally take your rightful place at my
side?”
“Fuck you, Osian. My answer to join you hasn’t changed in six
hundred years. It’s not going to change today. What is going to
change today is that I’m not going back into that gargoyle without a
fight.” Hunter turned his gaze to the friends surrounding him.
Osian’s amber eyes moved through the crowd of people
surrounding Hunter, they seemed to be assessing everyone. His
eyes lingered the longest on Jude and Dempsey. “I’m willing to
release Hunter from his bond if you both join me.” His index finger
bounced back and forth between the two men like a metronome.
Dempsey turned to Jude, both men raised a silent eyebrow at the
other before turning back to Osian. “No chance,” Dempsey
answered.
“That goes double for me. I don’t do warlocks.” Jude shot Osian a
disgusted look.
Osian’s right hand twitched and started to rise in Jude’s direction.
“Do it and it will be the last thing you ever do,” Jude snarled, his
attention turned to the unknown figure in black. “You chose me to
join your band of black magick mercenaries for a reason. Don’t make
me show these nice people why on a public street.”
Rage burned in Osian’s eyes. “Salem Towne Forest. Midnight.
Put your affairs in order. You’ll be returning to the gargoyle, Hunter,
but you won’t be staying here in Salem. You’re coming back to
Wales with me. The two of you will be joining him.” Without waiting
for an answer, Osian turned and walked away.
“Jesus Christ,” Ronan grabbed Jude, spinning him around. “Do
you know who the person in black was?”
From where Walker was standing, he could see that Jude was
visibly shaken. He watched as Jude reached out to hold on to
Ronan.
“I don’t know who she was, but I know what she was.” His amber
eyes looked to Dempsey.
“Tell us Jude. We need all the information we can get to fight this
asshole and his friends.” Ronan gave his shoulders a slight shake.
“She’s a witch. A special kind of witch. I-I can’t say the word out
loud.” Jude’s voice shook with fear.
“She’s a Navajo skinwalker,” Dempsey provided. He was
watching Jude closely with a curious look on his face.
“To say their name is to conjure them.” The fiery amber in Jude’s
eyes had turned to ice.
“Wait, that weapon-word you used back at the Black Cat Inn to
save Niall from the spirits trying to kill him was Navajo in origin…”
Ronan trailed off.
“That word is used in defense of the witches back home in
Navajo Nation. We’re all taught it along with our ABCs and 123s.”
Jude shrugged.
 Ronan wore a look that said he didn’t quite believe the entire
story.
“Okay, everyone.” Dempsey clapped his hands. “We’ve got a lot
of work to do before midnight. Let’s get back to it. You’re coming with
me.” He pointed to Jude.
For once, the P.I. didn’t have a saucy comeback. He nodded and
followed the warlock into the store.
Walker watched everyone file back into the shop with the
exception of Hunter. “One way or another it all ends tonight.”
Hunter’s face burst into a grin. “Which means we start planning
our forever tomorrow.”
Choosing to think only of the possible positive outcomes, Walker
wrapped his arms around his gargoyle and held on tight.
 

21

Hunter
Hunter sat in the driver’s seat of his truck clutching the steering
wheel. He’d done as Osian ordered and had gotten all of his affairs
in order. He’d believed the warlock when he’d said he would be
returning to the gargoyle and to Wales this time around. He was
either going to walk away from this fight tonight or Walker was never
going to see him again. He’d come to terms with those two
possibilities.
“Everyone is here now. Are you ready?” Walker set a gentle hand
on Hunter’s shoulder.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Hunter turned to look at his forever. It
was hard to believe they’d only been together for such a short time.
If it wasn’t for Walker, he wouldn’t be sitting here right now preparing
to battle Osian for his freedom. “I love you, Braveheart.”
Walker snorted. “I love you right back.” He picked up Hunter’s
hand, brushing kisses against his knuckles.
Hunter had sat and patiently listened to Walker detail his own
final wishes a few hours earlier. He had made a will years ago,
leaving everything to his parents and sister back in New Mexico. He
wanted to be cremated, but to make sure some of his ashes were
held back for Hunter. He’d been strong while Walker laid everything
out for him. What music he wanted played and what Bible verse was
to be read. God, it nearly broke him to hear that it was from First
Corinthians; Love is patient. Love is kind.
He’d cried and pleaded with God in the locked bathroom for half
an hour after he and Walker were finished with that conversation. He
wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but he thought Walker was doing
the exact thing in the other bathroom.
That was neither here nor there now. The time for tears was over.
“Let’s go kick some warlock ass.” Hunter leaned over the center
console of the truck to kiss Walker for what he hoped wasn’t the last
time. “Remember what I told you about staying back. Osian knows
that your mine. He’s going to go after you to hurt me.”
“My place is at your side, Hunter.” Walker’s amber eyes reflected
all the love in his heart.
“I get that. I really do, but winning this battle is no good if I’m
stuck planning your funeral. Please think about that.” Hunter kissed
him again, not wanting to give Walker the chance to object. “I’m
gonna be in the mood for a lumberjack’s breakfast when this is over.
You know, pancakes, scrambled eggs, a pound of bacon, some hash
browns.” Hunter waggled his eyebrows before he hopped out of the
truck.
“Oh good. Everyone’s here.” Dempsey surveyed the group when
Walker and Hunter joined it.
Hunter couldn’t help looking around at everyone who was there.
Tennyson and Ronan were standing with Callum Churchill. Cisco
Jackson and Luca Pennington were off to the side with Jude Byrne.
He couldn’t help noticing there were nine of them. The most powerful
number in witchcraft.
“You all know your role here tonight, so let’s go break this curse.”
Dempsey headed toward the forest path.
Hunter reached for Walker’s hand. He could feel the cool metal of
Walker’s ring against the palm of his hand. He whispered a silent
prayer that plans for their wedding would start, in earnest, tomorrow
morning. If he had his way, they’d be married by Labor Day. Up
ahead, he could see the flickering of what looked like a large fire. His
suspicions were confirmed a moment later when he and the others
entered the clearing.
“Well, isn’t that cute? Planning a holiday weekend wedding,”
Osian sneered. He was standing in front of a huge bonfire.
Hunter couldn’t help wondering what it was about this clearing in
the forest that seemed to incite the need for bonfires. The last time
he was here with Ronan, fighting Gideon Black, the evil preacher
had bonfire going as well. “Let’s get this over with, Osian. Isn’t six
hundred years of obsession with me enough?”
“What?” His amber eyes narrowed on Hunter.
“I mean come on.” Hunter shrugged. “This if-I-can’t-have-you-no-
man-will shtick is a little old, don’t you think? What is it about me that
you can’t let go of anyway? I’m just a regular guy. My dick isn’t that
big. I snore. What the hell is so goddamned special about me that
you have to lock me in stone for centuries rather than let me go?”
“There’s nothing special about you,” Osian spat. “You’re just a
pesky demon slayer.”
“Who can’t harm you.” Hunter took a step forward. “My powers
are useless against you. All you’d have to do is swat them away like
a fly. I’m no threat to you. To Seren, I’m a definite threat, aren’t I?”
Hunter raised his hands toward the fallen angel. He could feel his
powers ramping up, he was ready to fight.
“Fuck off, Hunter. I’m not going back. The price is too heavy. I’ve
done too much damage…” She trailed off, her face turning away
from the light.
“You know that isn’t true, Seren. He always forgives. All you have
to do is ask. At least that’s what I’ve been told.” Hunter shrugged.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” Osian raised his hands. The black
balls of swirling clouds appeared in his hands, just as they’d done
the first time he’d done this dance with Hunter back in 1418.
“Why don’t you go ahead and kill me Osian. I’m ready to die. It
means I’ll never have to see you again.” Hunter smirked at the
warlock. “I doubt very much our final destinations are the same
place.” Hunter winked. He stepped back in line with Jude and
Dempsey. He was ready for what was going to happen next.
“Oh no, I’m not going to kill you, Hunter.” Osian smirked. He
turned, keeping his hands poised at Hunter. “You. The doctor. Come
forward.”
“Walker, no!” Hunter bellowed.
 “It’s okay, Hunter.” Walker squeezed his hand and stepped
forward. “What do you want, Osian?”
“Why, you, of course. I’ll release Hunter’s curse right now if you
agree to take his place.” His voice was full of malevolent glee.
“Don’t do it, Walker! He’s lying!” Jesus, this was the last thing
Hunter had expected to happen. He’d thought maybe Osian would
try to hurt Walker, but not try to pull off a prisoner exchange.
“I never lie, Hunter. You know a warlock’s vow is his sacred
bond.” Osian was smiling at Walker.
“Is that true, Dempsey?” Walker asked.
“It is, but Walker-” Dempsey started, taking a step forward.
“I agree,” Walker said, standing up straighter. “Release him and
take me instead.”
“NO!” Hunter bellowed, hitting his knees.
Osian laughed. “Winds from North that chill to the bone, turn this
man into stone!” Throwing his hands forward, the balls of black
clouds enveloped Walker.
Dempsey ran forward, grabbing Hunter and pulling him back to
his feet. “We need to do the reversing spell now!” he shouted.
“There’s no time to lose if you want to save Walker.”
Hunter nodded. He understood what the wizard was saying, but
was terrified it was too late to save Walker. He knew what was going
on inside that swirling black cloud. Walker wasn’t able to move his
toes right now. Soon that would extend up his legs.
Thinking thoughts like this wasn’t helping Walker. Summoning all
of his strength, he turned to Dempsey who had two electric blue balls
of energy swirling in his hands. His eyes were glowing from within
and were trained on Osian. Hunter was damn glad the wizard was
on his side.
“Hunter, now!” Dempsey commanded.
His hands coming up, Hunter threw his white light at Seren.
Dempsey had known she’d come after him and try to knock him off
his game. Hunter was the only one equipped to deal with her and put
her out of commission. The fallen angel screeched. It was a twisted,
anguished sound. One he would not soon forget. “Go home, Seren.
Repent. Heal.”
Seren was fighting back with everything she had, hurling dark
energy at him.
Hunter had managed to duck out of the way of her thunderbolts
of energy. He’d hidden behind a tree when he felt a hand on his
back. Turning he saw that it was Tennyson.
“My spirit guides are with you, Hunter. Try the white light again,”
Tennyson urged.
Raising his hands, Hunter did just what Tennyson asked. He felt
somehow stronger. Digging deep within himself, he threw his hands
forward and a blast of energy flew from his fingers like he’d never
seen before. It slammed into Seren. When the echoes of her
screams died down, Hunter noticed she was gone. “Thanks, Ten.
Where’s Walker?”
“Over there.” Ten pointed. “Dempsey’s with him.”
His attention turned instantly to the wizard and those growing
twin balls of energy. From where he was standing, he could hear the
wizard chanting but couldn’t make out the words. “Come on, we
need to help them.” Hunter took off running. The closer he got, he
was able to make out the words Dempsey was saying.
 “Return to your maker and leave me in peace. Should the way be
barred your power will cease. So shall this curse be reflected back to
its sender. As it comes to me so shall it return to them. Go back from
whence you came. Remain with whom you came from. Be with who
you were sent by.”
Hunter couldn’t see Walker at all. He was completely consumed
by the black smoke. “Walker! I’m here. We won’t let the stone take
you!” Turning to Dempsey, Hunter joined in the chant. He could feel
Tennyson at his back. To his far right, he could hear Jude, Ronan,
and Callum shouting in Navajo at the special witch. If Jude was
afraid to call her by name there was no way he was going to either.
He had enough problems.
Turning back to Osian, Hunter joined his voice with Dempsey’s,
chanting the reflection spell. When Hunter recited it through the first
time, Dempsey launched the blue balls of energy at him.
Osian screamed. The blue energy enveloped him, forcing him to
the ground.
Hunter moved forward, putting himself between Walker and
Osian. He kept repeating the reflection spell with Dempsey. He could
hear Tennyson, Cisco, and Luca speaking it aloud with them. He
knew all of Tennyson’s spirit guides were with them too.
The blue ball of energy consuming Osian grew larger before
suddenly exploding.
Hunter felt himself being blown backward. He landed on
something soft, most likely leaf litter or a bed of ferns. When he sat
up, the forest was silent and dark. Whatever happened with
Dempsey’s blue energy was strong enough to extinguish the bonfire.
“Walker!” Hunter bellowed. Everything they did tonight was for
naught if Walker had been turned into a statue.
“Hunter? We’re over here!” a man’s voice called out.
That wasn’t Walker’s voice. The man shouting was Ronan
O’Mara.
Hunter climbed back to his feet and ran in the direction of
Ronan’s voice. He could see where he was going thanks to the light
of the partially full moon filtering down through the trees. He stopped
dead in his tracks when he saw a winged gargoyle lit by shafts of
moonlight. “Walker! Jesus Christ, no!” Hunter fell before the statue
on his knees. “NO!” He screamed at the top of his lungs. He was free
from Osian’s curse but it didn’t matter one bit if the cost was Walker’s
freedom for his own.
He felt tears cascade down his cheeks and he let them fall. The
only solace he had in this moment of absolute heartbreak was that
Walker knew how much Hunter loved him. He hadn’t held anything
back in the time they’d been together. Hunter had said Walker was
his eternal love and he’d meant it.
“Walker,” Hunter cried. “I promise this isn’t the end for us. As
soon as my legs can support me I’m going back to work with
Dempsey and we’re going to find a spell to break you out of this
fucking rock. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you, Hunter,” a very familiar voice said. “I should think the
entire forest heard you with the way you’re shouting.”
“Walker?” Hunter turned around to see the man he loved
standing behind him. “Holy shit!” He scrambled to his feet, pulling
him into his arms. “Wait a minute!” Hunter set him back down. “If
you’re here with me, then who the hell’s in the gargoyle?”
 “That would be Osian,” Dempsey said proudly from behind them.
“It worked? The reflection spell actually worked?” Hunter couldn’t
believe it.
“Why do you sound so surprised?” Dempsey wore a shit eating
grin. “I told you I was a kick ass wizard.”
Hunter grabbed the big man in a hug. “I can’t ever thank you
enough. How long is he going to be locked in there for?”
Dempsey hugged him back. “Forever. He didn’t set a release
time on Walker, so I sure as hell wasn’t going to give him one either.
That rock is his home for eternity.”
“Ronan?” Hunter turned to his friend.
“Yeah?”
“You want to help me load this ugly-ass gargoyle into the bed of
my truck?”
“Sure thing. You really want to take him home with you?” Ronan
looked dubious over the idea.
“Someone has to or I’m arresting the lot of you for littering.” Cisco
Jackson laughed.
“Where’s the, um, you know…the witch?” Hunter spun around
look for but not seeing any signs of the black-clad figure.
“She’s no longer a problem.” Jude grinned. “High-tailed it out of
here when the battle started shifting in our favor.” He attention swung
to the big warlock standing nearby. “What would you think about
sticking around this place?” Jude asked Dempsey. “We’ve always
got room for another guy with hand-powers in this town.”
Dempsey laughed heartily. “I might just take you up on that offer.”
“You know what this means, don’t you?” Hunter asked Walker.
 “That Dempsey’s spending the night at Jude’s house?” Walker
grimaced.
Hunter thought that was a distinct possibility. “Nope! After I get
my lumberjack breakfast we’ve got a wedding to plan.”
 

EPILOGUE

Walker

Harlech Castle, Wales, One month later…

The wind off Cardigan Bay ruffled Hunter’s riot of blond curls.
Walker snapped frame after frame of his newlywed husband looking
like cotton candy gone wrong.
“Are you taking pictures of the bay?” Hunter asked as he finally
wrangled his fly-away hair into a man-bun.
“Nope! I was taking pictures of you.” Walker turned the camera
around to show him the last frame of the blond curls wrapped around
his face like tentacles.
“That’s a keeper for sure.” Hunter kissed him.
“Just like you.” Walker kissed him back.
“What do you think of this place?” Hunter wrapped his arms
around Walker from behind, turning them toward the Irish Sea.
“I love Wales. The people we’ve met have been wonderful and
this country is amazing. I’m not a big fan of this castle since you
were imprisoned here for so long.” It was true. Walker wasn’t a fan of
coming here, but it had meant so much to Hunter.
“Yeah, but they’ve got a gift shop now!” Hunter laughed.
Walker had imagined what it must have been like for Hunter
being stuck here for all of those years as they drove up to the castle.
The main walk was paved now, but it was a steep grade. Welsh
winters were notoriously cold and wet, yet Hunter stood sentinel for
ninety of them. He could see the beauty of this land and was glad
they had come here, but he would be glad to see the back of it when
their honeymoon continued to Dublin tomorrow.
“You’re the only gift I need, Hunter.” Walker turned in his arms,
burying his face against Hunter’s chest.
“What about all of those wedding presents waiting for us back
home?” Hunter asked. His blue eyes were dancing in the afternoon
sunshine.
“Are you looking forward to opening them up?” They’d left right
for the airport after their wedding reception with their friends
promising to bring everything back to Walker’s house for them.
They’d decided to live there as a married couple.
“We’ll open a bottle of champagne, like the one we had on the
night I proposed and see what goodies our friends got us. I’m
worried about the one from Jude. Rumor has it he sells vibrators on
the side.”
“What?” Walker laughed in surprise. “Do you think he gave us
one?”
Hunter shook his head. “No, I think he gave us two! Dirty bastard.
You think he’s fucked Dempsey yet?”
Walker snorted. “Nope! Tennyson promised to text if that
happened. I still can’t believe he’s staying in Salem and he’s renting
your house.”
Hunter nodded. “Everything seemed to work out for us, didn’t it?”
Holding his husband closer, Walker kissed his neck. “It sure did,
but for one thing. You know, you never asked me what I wanted for a
wedding present.”
“Oh, becoming Doctor Walker Harmon-Conroy wasn’t present
enough?” Hunter laughed. “What does my absolutely gorgeous
husband want for a wedding present?”
“A baby. You know, there’s an awful lot of kids out there with no
parents and we just happen to be parents without a baby. Just
saying…” Walker let his words hang in the chilly Welsh air.
“Parents without a baby?” Hunter whispered. “Sold.”
 
IF YOU ENJOYED MEETING COLD CASE DETECTIVE
RONAN O’MARA AND PSYCHIC TENNYSON GRIMM, GO BACK
TO WHERE IT ALL BEGAN WITH BOOK ONE IN THE COLD
CASE PSYCHIC SERIES, DEAD SPEAK!
Demoted to the cold case squad after shooting a suspect in the
line of duty, Detective Ronan O’Mara knows that his career with the
Boston Police Department is hanging by a thread. His first
assignment is the case of Michael Frye, a five-year-old boy who has
been missing for seven years. With no new leads or witnesses to
interview, Ronan has to start from scratch to solve this mystery.
When he sees a handsome local psychic on television, Ronan
figures he’s got nothing to lose in enlisting the man’s help to find
Michael.
Psychic Tennyson Grimm is riding high after helping South Shore
cops find a missing child. He’s even being courted by the Reality
Show Network about a program showcasing his abilities. He has no
idea that his midday appointment with a customer, who instead turns
out to be a police detective, is going to change the course of his life
and his career.
With the blessing of the BPD, which badly needs an image
makeover, Ronan is allowed to bring Tennyson in to assist with the
Frye case. Being thrown together in front of cameras is never easy,
but add in an emotional missing persons investigation, a tight-lipped
spirit, and a cop who’s a skeptic, and it definitely puts a strain on
both men and their working relationship.
 When the child’s body is found, the work to identify his killer
begins. As Ronan and Tennyson get closer to solving the case, the
initial attraction they feel for one another explodes into a passion
neither man can contain.
Will working together to bring Michael’s killer to justice seal their
fledgling bond, or will unexpected revelations in the case tear them
apart forever?
 
Dead Speak is available in eBook, Paperback. Kindle
Unlimited, or Audio Book format!
https://amazon.com/Dead-Speak-Cold-Case-Psychic-
ebook/dp/B07769VFJR/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-
text&ie=UTF8&qid=1533403817&sr=1-
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IF YOU’RE A REGULAR FOLLOWER OF THE COLD CASE
PSYCHIC SERIES, BOOK NINE, DEAD MAN WALKING, IS
AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER! GRAB YOUR COPY TODAY!
Cold Case Detective, Ronan O’Mara is stunned to see the
breaking news that a well-known mobster he helped to put behind
bars, Vito “The Dragon” Dragonni, has been released from prison
after his life sentence is overturned on a technicality. When
prominent members involved in the original case against The Dragon
start turning up dead, Ronan starts to wonder if he’s next.
Psychic, Tennyson Grimm starts having visions of dead men with
The Dragon’s signature kill shot: two bullet holes to the forehead.
The men in the visions are strangers, but when he learns from an
undercover agent that Dragonni has compiled a hit list with Ronan
and his ex-partner, Tony, at the top, he fears a day will come when
he recognizes the murder victim in his vision.
Tony Abruzzi has been a broken man since the tragic death of his
adopted son, Mark. Refusing the offer of protective custody until
Dragonni and his hit squad are off the streets, he seems to be daring
the mobster to come after him. Despite the fact that they’ve been
estranged since the case that cost Tony’s son his life, Ronan decides
to stick to his former partner’s side as his personal bodyguard,
whether Tony wants his help or not.
Can Ronan and Tony find a way to work together to stop The
Dragon before he can cross more names off his hit list or are both
detectives dead men walking?
https://www.amazon.com/Dead-Walking-Cold-Case-Psychic-
ebook/dp/B07JRDP428?
keywords=dead+man+walking+pandora+pine&qid=1540744894&sr=
8-1-spell&ref=sr_1_1
 
THAT OLD MAGIC, CAPTAIN KEVIN FITZGIBBON’S LONG-
AWAITED SPIN OFF IS NOW AVAILABLE! GRAB YOUR COPY
TODAY!
Boston Police Captain, Kevin Fitzgibbon thought he’d found the
missing piece of his heart when psychic Madam Aurora prophesied
the love of his life was philanthropist, Jace Lincoln. After spending
months as on-again, off-again boyfriends, the pair are off again,
perhaps for good, leaving Kevin distraught and grumpy.
Jace Lincoln is still trying to put his life back together after Fitz
dumped him on Valentine’s Day. While getting back into the swing of
things with a new man, a drunk Fitzgibbon barges in on their date
like Godzilla destroying Tokyo. Listening to Fitz carry on about how
much he misses what they had together makes Jace wonder if they
still have enough of that old magic left to try one last time.
Through a series of dates ranging from ridiculous to right on the
money, Fitz and Jace reconnect and find that the things keeping
them apart might not be so insurmountable after all. Deciding to give
their relationship another try, they start planning a bright future
together.
That future is stopped dead in its tracks when tragedy strikes at a
party celebrating the tenth anniversary of Jace’s homeless shelter.
Will Kevin and Jace survive to begin a new life together or have they
lost their last chance at happiness for good this time?
 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07JB2G376/ref=sr_1_1?
ie=UTF8&qid=1539298094&sr=8-
1&keywords=that+Old+magic+pandora+pine
 
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Books by Pandora Pine
 Cold Case Psychic Series
Vision of Love

Dead Speak

Dead Reckoning

Dead Silent

Dead Weight

Dead to Me

Dead Ringer

Dead in the Water

Dead of Night

Dead Man Walking

Coming Soon… Christmas Short: Merry and Bright

Cold Case Psychic Spin Offs
Beyond the Grave

Spellbound

Blood Song

That Old Magic

Hunter’s Curse

Coming Soon… Tiny Dancer

 Sand Dollar Shoal Series
Undercurrent

Riptide

Deep Blue

Storm Surge
Reading, Writing, and Romance Series
A Little Love

A Little Lesson

A Little Luck
On The Radio Series
Pillow Talk

Double Talk

Country Talk
 Student Bodies Series
Like the Knight

In the Shade

Do No Harm

Brick and Mortar

All Fall Down

Ties That Bind

Third and Long

Across the Pond

Happily Ever After

 
Find all of my books here: https://www.amazon.com/Pandora-
Pine/e/B013BSSBX0/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1538324516&sr=8-2-ent