Free Entwined Enemies by Robin Briar Page A

floor where the pillar used to be, the one against which Trent was pinned behind a levitating oven and refrigerator.
    Did it all fall through the floor? I can’t tell. Nothing is moving down there.
    Mason and I step around the edge of this room as Saffron uses the Leva Ad spell to clear debris away from the corner, keeping it airborne rather than setting it down anywhere. Candice stands up from under the wreckage and shakes her head. Her shield is dented, but she’s otherwise intact. Just like me.
    “Maintain the Flesh?” I ask.
    She nods. “You too?”
    “Yes.” I look around the room and then at Mason. “Speaking of spells, where’s Sylvia?”
    Mason inclines his head toward the breakfast nook. It’s completely shattered. Not just from where Saffron crashed through the ceiling glass—the entire enclosure has been leveled.
    Sylvia is sitting in a lawn chair out in the yard, looking back at her house and not moving.
    “I grabbed her and leapt outside,” Mason tells me. “She was still paralyzed. I hope you understand. That’s why I went for her instead of you.”
    I place a hand on the side of his face.
    “You don’t have to explain. She was helpless. I would think less of you if you didn’t try to save her first.”
    I look outside at Sylvia.
    “Still, my spell can’t be active anymore. She should be able to move now.”
    “I think she might be in shock,” Mason says, “especially if what I’m feeling from her right now is any indication.”
    “Go. She needs her twin brother right now. Let Candice, Saffron, and I deal with this mess right now.”
    Mason looks down through the hole and sniffs the air. “What about him?” he says.
    I look down at the mountain of rubble that settled in the basement. I can’t even see the oven or refrigerator. There’s just too much broken construction material and drywall, not to mention any furniture from upstairs that came crashing down as well.
    “If a house falling on Trent hasn’t killed him, I shudder to think about what can. Either way, let us take care it. Candice and Saffron can sense things without seeing them. Go mind your sister.”
    Mason nods. “I’m sure you know spells that are far better at sorting through these sorts of things than my sense of smell, but if you need my nose, let me know.”
    He cups the side of my face briefly and then makes his way outside through what remains of the breakfast nook.
    The sweat on his dusty, muscular back glistens in the sun. His clothes tore away when he shifted into a half-man, half-wolf, but the top half of his pants remain, albeit shredded.
    I notice for the first time that the wounds Baldy gave Mason are still healing. The holes in his crucified hands disappeared almost immediately, but there was a lot more going on at the time.
    First of all, Mason changed from a man into a massive wolf, shifting through his half-man, half-wolf hybrid shape. Second, he was being magically infused with his own refined werewolf lust. That must have supercharged his regeneration time.
    More than anything, I can’t help but feel enormously lucky with Mason. Not because I could admire his rippling physique all day. I feel fortunate because of how well he’s adjusting to the idea of me being a witch.
    Neither of us are talking about the fact that I stripped the flesh off a werewolf in front of him. Indeed, Mason went in for the kill right afterward. It needed doing and we did it together. We’ve already moved on.
    Wait until he finds out I’m a sixty-nine-year-old woman in the body of an eighteen-year-old. I expect that will blow his mind.
    Despite all the chaos around me right now, I suddenly want Mason all to myself, someplace alone and dark and warm where we can really cut loose on each other. What I want, however, will have to wait. At least for a little while.
    I turn back to Candice and Saffron who are looking down into the basement through the hole.
    “He’s still alive down there, isn’t he?” I ask.
    Saffron