Bound

Description

Bound – Mychael Black

Arcanum New Orleans 2

Brant Ford never thought he’d meet his fated mate, but he did in the form of a hunky Arcanum detective. Things move fast, but there’s more going on than a new romance. Brant’s estranged family coven has fractured, and half of them want him back one way or another.

Detective Donovan Sterling has every intention of protecting his omega, especially from the group that splintered from the man’s family coven. When attacks against witches prove there’s more going on than meets the eye, an unlikely ally arrives with a lot more information than anyone expected–especially Brant.

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EXCERPT:

“Sterling here.”

“Hi, Detective Sterling. This is Brant Ford.”

Donovan smiled and sat back in his chair. “Hello there. What can I do for you?”

“Are you available to talk?”

Don didn’t miss the singer’s uneasy tone and glanced over at Caleb, who watched with a concerned, curious expression. “Of course. Everything okay?”

“I’m not sure,” Brant said. “The witch who abducted Roland wasn’t the first one to bother me, and I think someone else took over where he left off.”

“I see. Where are you? Are you somewhere safe?”

“Yes. I’m sitting in a Starbucks downtown. It’s really packed right now. I was on the way home from a bookstore when I noticed someone following me. Normally, I’d just let it go, but my gut wouldn’t let me this time.”

“Stay put,” Don said as he stood. He grabbed his keys, nodded at Caleb, and left the station. “I’m on my way.”

“Okay,” Brant replied.

“I’ll be there in a moment. Do not leave.”

“I won’t.”

They hung up, and Don headed to his unmarked car, glad he’d worn a suit today and not one of the station’s shirts emblazoned with the name Arcanum. No need to alert anyone who he was or where he worked. The drive didn’t take too long, and he found a spot in sight of the storefront. He locked up and went inside. It was definitely busy, but he saw the young singer sitting at a table in a corner. Don caught Brant’s gaze and gave him a slight nod before getting in line to order a drink. A couple of minutes later, iced coffee in hand, Don walked over and sat at Brant’s table.

“Thanks,” the young man said, his tone quiet. “I’m sorry to pull you away from whatever you were doing.”

“No need to apologize. Are you all right?”

Brant’s gaze shifted, and Don followed his line of sight. An older man sat at a table with a woman, and both seemed to be chatting, oblivious to anyone else. Don turned his attention back to Brant and gestured discreetly to Brant’s phone. Brant opened the messages app and typed. A few seconds later, Don’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his coat pocket and read the text.

“They were at the bookstore and left right after me. I don’t know her, but the guy is a witch. I’ve seen him before.”

Don texted back, “do you know his name?”

Brant shook his head. “I do know he is associated with the coven that last asshole was with, though.”

“Understood.”

The couple got up, and the guy met Don’s gaze with a scowl before they walked out. Brant let out a breath and slumped in his chair as soon as they were gone.

“I knew they wouldn’t let it go.”

“Aaron Palmer wanted your talisman,” Don said. Brant nodded. “Why?”

“All witches possess one. It’s attuned to their energies and magic. Anyone who has it gains magical control over the original owner. What better way to lure a witch into a coven, whether they like it or not?”