Boundary Born (Boundary Magic Book 3) - Melissa F. Olson Page 0,79

pack up a few essentials. I wouldn’t be able to come back here until this was over, one way or another.

I threw some clothes into a duffel bag, barely paying attention to what I grabbed, and then went into the now-empty back bedroom where I kept my weapons safe. I stood there for a few minutes examining my options. I had no idea what would hurt the giant blue guy, so I put a little of everything into the duffel: a couple of shredders (in addition to the new one strapped to my arm), my Ithaca shotgun in a soft case, extra ammunition, and a Gerber LHR combat knife in a sheath. After a few minutes of consideration, I also dug out an old Patagonia fanny pack—they weren’t called that anymore, but that’s what it was—and tucked in my Smith & Wesson revolver, which had the best stopping power of any of the sidearms I owned. I wouldn’t be able to draw it from the fanny pack as quickly as I’d like, but none of the concealed carry holsters that fit me could hold a large sidearm. Much better to be a little slow on the draw than to be in a situation where I needed to leave my weapon in the car so no one would see the holster. Just to be on the safe side, I tossed my favorite quick-draw holster, a gift from Quinn, into the duffel. I also threw in the longest jacket I owned, a lightweight, knee-length number that was a little baggy on me and flared out at the waist, which made it the best thing I had for disguising weapons.

I went back out to the driveway, but before I could reach for the driver’s door I heard a woman’s voice from behind the Jeep.

“Allison Luther?”

Lily and I both jumped, and my hand went to the weapon in my unzipped hip pack. But the speaker was a small, unassuming woman standing at the end of my driveway. She was probably in her midthirties, with a white-blonde braid circling the top of her porcelain face, and she was dressed simply in loose black pants, a white tee, and a denim jacket. Even in the dim illumination from the house lights, I could see that the T-shirt was swelled out. I was just guessing, based on Sam’s pregnancy, but I figured she was seven, maybe eight months along.

She stood there with her hands in her jacket pockets, radiating calm and something else. I couldn’t put my finger on it until Lily stepped in front of me.

Her fingers were thrust out to her sides, and I could swear I saw actual light sparking off them. My jaw dropped. Obviously I wasn’t the only one Lily was training with. She—and no doubt Simon—had been practicing apex magic. “Who the hell are you?” Lily demanded.

“Lily!” I hissed. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe pregnant women were harmless, but this one looked like she was there to sell some kind of raffle tickets, or maybe see if I was registered to vote.

“She’s a witch, Lex,” Lily said over her shoulder. “With some serious juice.”

The woman’s smile was calm and unperturbed. “No need to worry, little witch. My name is Kirsten, and I’m here to help.”

Chapter 32

“Help how?” I asked, at the same time as Lily said, “Kirsten who?”

The woman turned to Lily first. “Harms is the name you’d know. And I am here voluntarily, as a favor to Jesse Cruz.”

Now it was Lily’s turn to look shocked. I, on the other hand, felt like an idiot. I’d been so distracted by the meeting with the blue man, I’d completely forgotten about my call with Cruz. He’d probably been worried.

Before Lily could recover, I stepped forward. “I’m Allison Luther, but everyone calls me Lex. What do you mean, you’re here to help?”

The woman—Kirsten—glanced between Lily and me. “I’m sorry, but I can’t talk to you in front of a clan witch. I didn’t go through our regular channels.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Lily took my arm. “Please give us a moment, ma’am,” she said contritely. The woman gave her a regal nod, and Lily practically dragged me back toward the house.

“What’s going on?” I hissed.

Lily positioned herself so her back was facing the woman. She took a deep breath. “You know how Si and I sometimes joke that my mom’s a witch queen?”

“Yeah . . .”

“Well, that woman back there is the real deal. In Sweden, witches have actual