Hey everyone, sorry for the delayed post. Something was going on with Wattpad and I couldn't get the page saved. Now to the main event.

Happy Reading.

Love
NJ Kuhr
XOXO

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​As soon as they reappeared into existence. Reagan stepped away from Oliver before he had the chance to open his arms. She turned her back to him and looked around her. The queasiness subsided faster than the last time.

Oliver stepped back in surprise at how abruptly she had pulled away from him. This wasn't about Peter. She recovered from things a lot faster than this, he could tell she wasn't reeling from being choked. Something else had happened. He walked over to her standing at her elbow he set his hand on her arm.

"Are you alright?" He asked as she pulled her shoulder away from him.

"Fine." She turned towards him in an attempt to cover up pulling away from him. Her face was set. She saw the flash in his eyes at her tone of voice.

Oliver searched her eyes but got nothing. "Have I done something?" People have been speaking in English for nearly fourteen hundred years and men still couldn't interpret the word fine. It's one syllable. All he knew was it was very very stupid to accept it at face value. 

"No." She shook her head. "Not at all." She took another step creating more distance between them but Oliver knew it was intentional. He had changed their clothes once more when they blinked. He was wearing dark jeans and a black pull over. Just below his chin on either side of the hood was a set of eyes. Only noticeable because she had a habit of looking for them. 

She felt clean again and was suddenly wearing hiking boots, tucked into them were forest green skinny cargo pants and to complete the outfit a black tank top with a matching zip  up. "Where are we?"

Oliver studied her before answering. "Passo del Tonale." She didn't recognize it. When he saw that she didn't he elaborated. "The Tonale Mountain pass in Italy."

Her eyebrows raised in surprise. Italy. That's when Reagan saw the beautiful lake behind him, surrounded by vast mountains. They were standing at the base overlooking a valley. The lake was flawless, an inverted mirror of the peeks towering above it, ringed with trees and forest. It was like something from a postcard or a nature magazine.

Oliver turned to look at the lake. It was bigger than it used to be. "This is where I was born." The landscape had changed since then but what used to be multiple ponds and a thick marsh was now a good sized lake. The shack he had been born in well below the surface. The village that hunted him down, named him Satan and nearly beat him to death long since forgotten.

"That is something you can keep, free of charge." He glanced back at her but she didn't smile, as he had expected. He thought she looked sad but the expression quickly left her face.

Reagan didn't respond. She didn't want to keep the information but it wasn't going to serve her purposes to throw it in his face. She would be professional, do her job. "It's amazing."

LI don't see Marcus." Peter hollered. He was standing a few feet away completely unfazed by the landscape. He was looking around disappointed. "Had it wrong brother."

"No." Oliver gave Reagan one last glance before turning to Peter. "I was right. Follow me." He walked passed him and into the forest.

Reagan followed him, Peter not far behind her. He was nearly walking on her heels. Having been nearly straggled by this man recently, the proximity didn't exactly make her comfortable. She stepped to the side of the trail hoping he would walk around her but he didn't. He didn't walk next to her either, he stayed slightly behind her, just out of her peripheral vision. It was clearly intentional. He was trying to put her on edge.

Even if he hadn't tried to murder her she wouldn't have like him. He was a bully, liked pushing people around and had no qualms about doing so. He enjoyed making her uncomfortable. At first, she was worried he may have been onto her, thought maybe he knew. That he suspected and was trying to get her to confess. Then she realized he was harassing her because of her relationship with Oliver.

"Back off. Damn, you're damaged. Living for eternity must really screw you guys up."

"So you're Oliver's new fling." It wasn't formed as a question so she didn't say anything. He laughed as the seconds dragged on in silence. He walked by her side for a few feet waiting to see if she would answer him then he quickened his pace and caught up to Oliver. She didn't bother to keep up but kept a safe distance away. She didn't want to give away her involvement so she couldn't appear too interested or eager.

Show enough curiosity to appear out of the loop and uninformed, but not too much to appear intelligent. It irked her that she had to play stupid and even more so that he accepted it without question. They walked for a few miles. Maybe forty-five minutes had passed, she guessed, when the two men stepped around a corner and as she followed she saw a small cabin tucked into the trees.

Smoke issued from a stone chimney. There was a stack of fire wood piled along the side. The walls were made of entire tree trunks. It looked like a life sized tinker toy house, the ones she had built as a kid, gingerbread trim and everything. She stopped in her tracks. It looked like something out of a fairy tale, little red riding hood's grandmother should be walking out with a tray full of cookies any moment. Oliver, however, must be familiar with the house because he walked briskly up to the door and let himself in.

Do Warlocks ever knock?

When Peter stepped into the shadows the door closed behind him.

Well, that was rude. She walked up to the door and paused. She didn't hear anything so to avoid missing out on something she turned the knob and pushed it open. It didn't look like anyone was going to let her in anyway.

It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. There were hot coals glowing in a fire place. Two cots lined the opposite wall, both were slept in. There was an old industrial stove in the corner and a standalone shelf of food storage and spices. She felt like she had stepped through time and was standing in some fur trader's cabin. Complete with the dirt floor.

There was an entry way to a hall in the corner she could see light flooding from. At least there's electricity. She walked over and peeked around the corner. There was a closed door to the left and another room at the end. Shadows passed over the wall from the trees outside the window. No one was there to stop her so she continued down the hall.

As she approached she could hear voices. When she stepped into the door frame she immediately recognized the backs of Oliver and Peter. The man standing in front of them she didn't recognize but he immediately noticed her.

His hair wasn't as dark as Oliver's, more of a warmer brown color. His eyes were lighter too, like honey. He had distinctive cheek bones and stubble, the five o'clock shadow looked good on him, natural. It suited his features much better than Theo Sinon's had.

Assuming the man was as old if not older than Oliver, she figured he created the five o'clock shadow. She could see him inspiring the look. He had a rough exterior that was attractive. He didn't have the height of his companions but he was sturdier looking. Stocky, with wider shoulders.

He was sitting at the table looking past the two men straight at Reagan, wearing a brown military jacket and khaki slacks. He had the war vet air about him. She didn't think he had served in the last few centuries but she figured he had served at some point. Maybe before he was a Warlock, or sometime early into his immortal life. 

Oliver stopped in mid-sentence as soon as the man was distracted. He turned to see what had caught his attention and zeroed in on Reagan. "Marcus. I'd like to introduce you to Reagan Blake. Reagan this is Marcus. The man, " He gestured to the bench lining the opposite wall, "sitting there is Phillip."

Reagan glanced at Phillip for a second only out of curtesy than back to Marcus who was still watching her. Oliver angled himself to include Reagan. There was an awkward silence so she stepped further into the room and stopped again.

Marcus gave Oliver a look and something passed between them. He stood up and reached out towards Reagan. "Come in. Have a seat." She didn't think she could object so she did as she was told. He practically embodied authority. When she settled into the seat to Marcus's left she could feel Oliver watching her but didn't look at him. Marcus had that way of owning a room. His mere presence demanded everyone's attention.

He reached out and set one finger under her chin tilting her head back. He was an obvious leader. No one acted without his consent. His touch gave her goosebumps. She remembered the bruises forming on her throat she hadn't allowed Oliver to heal. At the time she wanted Oliver to leave her alone and didn't want to feel indebted to him for healing her but now she was regretting it. Her immature reaction; looking back on it she figured she could have had a better response but it was too late now. She didn't like being touched by someone she didn't know but Marcus was somehow worse.

"I take it Peter wasn't too keen on making your acquaintance." He let go of her chin.

She stared Marcus down refusing to be intimidated by him no matter how old he really was. "Not in the least." her voice tainted with indignation.

Marcus chuckled at her tone. "He has that way with people." like that somehow excused him. Reagan wasn't convinced.

Changing the subject, he turned back to Oliver. "I've heard whispers. James has gathered a few followers, including William and Travis. The others I can't confirm but there are more. Sealey sent word. He was injured pretty badly and still recouping but he will be here as soon as he is capable."

It was just as Oliver suspected. None of them gave her any notice after her introduction was over. She felt like a piece of property. She might as well be deaf, blind and mute as far as they were concerned. She sat in the chair, ignored, as they continued on with their discussion as if she hadn't interrupted them. All the same, she'd use it to her advantage even if it did get under her skin. Pretentious, entitled assholes.

Peter sat down on Reagan's other side making her even more uncomfortable, "We need to form a plan. We need to strike them before they get to us."

Oliver set his hand on Peter's shoulders. "I don't think it needs to come to that. We should meet with them and try to prevent any more blood from spilling. These are our brothers not our enemies." Reagan could hear the subtle fear in his voice, the raw anxiety.

Marcus listened to them both. "We can't make any decisions yet. We'll wait for Sealey. I believe he'll recruit others before he arrives. He already knows Phillip was with me and I informed him you two would know to come here as well. We'll prepare here. Besides, Phillip is still healing and you, Oliver, don't look so good yourself." Marcus said pointedly.

Reagan glanced up reflexively, Oliver seemed fine to her. Was there something she missed? The burn was gone, she had noticed it the morning after Oliver had slept in her bed. The morning they had, she stopped herself from thinking about it. But, she distinctly remembered checking his ribs while he was making breakfast, the burn was gone, replaced by perfect skin.

Oliver noticed her appraisal, he had caught her eye and she blushed, giving away her thoughts. He was thinking about it too. Watching her sleep next to him in the dark he had used a glamour to hide the burn from her before he woke her up. Kept it up until later on when he was dressed.

He'd let the spell down but the burn hadn't improved. He'd concocted a remedy while she slept on Peter's couch and tended to it. Creating a similar salve to the one she had used, as well as other potions and ointments they may need. He meant to thank her and tell her how impressed he was with her skills and knowledge. He wanted to know where she got the salve from, it wasn't something just anyone could concoct. His own wasn't as good. He made a note to talk to her about it when they were alone.

He turned back to Marcus. "It's nothing rest won't cure. Speaking of healing, " A travel bag appeared on the table. "I've brought provisions. There are a few balms and some medicine. It won't last us long but it should do the trick."

Peter twisted around in his chair towards Phillip. "What's the matter with you?" Reagan realized he was just as abrasive with everyone else as he was with her.

Phillip looked irritated by his tone. Apparently Peter talked to everyone like that and they all had accepted it. "Travis hit me with a miasmic curse." He had dark circles under his eyes. "Coward, waited till my back was turned."

Reagan turned to him in shock. Miasmic curses are poison, conjured from pollution and vaporous gases. It was deadly without an immediate antidote spells. He was still suffering from the effects but at least he was alive. She had never known anyone to be afflicted by one.

Marcus grunted in agreement. "I would have gone back to fight but Phillip was nearly ravaged by the time I got to him. It took everything I had to get him to the state he's in now. In all my years I've never studied healing outside of basics. "

Oliver looked disturbed, "In all your years, we've never needed to. We cursed our enemies, not our friends."

Reagan pulled the travel case over to her and searched through the supplies. The angelica cream was here but that was only for abrasions and contusions. There were some other herbs and spices but nothing that would cure an infection. "What are you thinking Reagan?"

The other three Warlocks looked at her remembering she existed. "I need thistle," She ignored them, "and eucalyptus. Some of that angelica but the root not the flower and I'm going to need Californian poppy roots as well." Oliver didn't ask why but there sitting on the table was each of the items she had listed. Turning to Phillip she asked.  "Are there any open wounds?"

He smiled politely, "No, maim."

"Good, then it's not going to sting." She turned back to Oliver. "This is going to take some time."

Maybe she should consider becoming a nurse. The Warlocks were out of their depth when it came to natural remedies. They healed themselves and used spells. They'd never been attacked by their own kind so they had never needed to rely on this kind of solution before. Witches and other less powerful beings used natural remedies. If they survived this maybe they would learn something from it. Bring them down a notch.

"Good thinking, Oliver, bringing a Healer." Marcus made it sound as if she was counted as one of the supplies or provisions. An inanimate object to be inventoried.

Oliver suppressed another chuckle as she ground her teeth together, her annoyance was startlingly attractive. "Not exactly, but Reagan did bring me back from the brink. I could have easily died." That seemed to impress the others, maybe not impress but they seemed to warm up to her a little more, even if only by a few degrees.

"She isn't a Witch." Peter stated the observation like she was an antique at auction they were appraising and trying to decide if she had any value or was just an attractive piece of junk. Reagan snapped.

"I'm not a mannequin either." She snarled at Peter. "I may not have magic," resentment oiling every word as they escaped her lips, "but I do have ears and a voice and they function quite efficiently." She stood up, tossing everything back into the case, forcing the clasp closed rather harshly. "I was raised by Healers in an orphanage, we were expected to maintain the school and assist the Healers until adopted or we turned of age. It may come as a shock to you, cavalier as you are, but I managed to pick up a thing or two." She glared at Marcus and Peter, "I came here to help, however, if you two pompous narcissist want to continue this archaic display of segregation than consider my skills unavailable to you."

Everyone was staring, except Oliver who was shaking with laughter and watched adoringly as she turned her back on the most powerful individuals in the world and marched out of the room.

"Where the hell did that come from?" Marcus's eyebrows still raised in surprise. 

Peter turned to Phillip, "What did she mean by narcissist?"            

Oliver burst out laughing, "Isn't she the most exquisite thing you have ever laid eyes on?" All three men stared at Oliver in resigned disbelief.