Redeemed: Wolves of Black Bird, #3

By Amelia Rademaker

Lawrence McDowell has already fought to save Black Bird. Now, he has to fight to stay.

Lawrence McDowell does not recognize his life. He's living in a thirdhand apartment teaching Magic 101 to a Pack of wolves at the community center, and he's a member of a Coven. Weirdly enough, he doesn't hate it. In fact, there are some major upsides to living in Black Bird.

One of them is the ward, a protective barrier that surrounds the territory. It currently keeps all of Black Bird's enemies from crossing the boundary. It is a unique magical feat that he helped create. He's pretty proud of it.

Unfortunately, not everyone is grateful for it. Someone is upset enough about the new feature to throw a magical Molotov cocktail into his new apartment. Luckily, his next-door neighbor manages to save his life. Considering she is a Pierce, he half expected her to let him burn. It may go against every he's experienced, but something deep inside keeps telling him he can trust her.

Julie Pierce has struggled to fit in her whole life. Now that she's found somewhere she belongs, she will fight for it.

Julie Pierce does not get invited to very many girls' nights out. She doesn't have a boyfriend. Heck, not many people stop to chat on the street. She doesn't take it personally. People are polite. They just don't want to spend too much time with her in case they accidentally draw her grandma's attention. No one wants Pearl Pierce looking too closely at them. They're not overacting. Her grandma can be downright vindictive. She tries to make up for it by being kind and helpful.

Which is what got her into trouble with her neighbor. She should have ignored the guy, but now, she just had to go out of her way and be helpful. Well, now she's more involved than she ever imagined because she has just been assigned as Lawrence McDowell's bodyguard. Grandma is going to be so mad.

It might be worth it because no one has ever looked at her the way Lawrence McDowell does.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amelia Rademaker
• Release date: Jan 19, 2024
• ISBN: 9798986378558

Amelia Rademaker

Amelia Rademaker is a writer from Seattle. Growing up listening to scary stories in the woods led to a lifelong interest in fantasy, reading, and things that go bump in the night. Currently, she lives in the South with her husband, her sons, cat, and a massive dog.

Book preview

Copyright © 2023 Amelia Rademaker

Cover art by: Original Book Cover Design

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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author's permission.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is coincidence.

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Thank You!

Snippet of Susix

About the Author

Other books by Amelia Rademaker

Connect with Amelia Rademaker

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Dedication

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To my husband, who has been a gem for the last few years. I appreciate the support and storyboarding. You are amazing.

Chapter One

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Lawrence McDowell looked at the clock again. Ivy was talking excitedly about breaking salt lines, or something like that. He wasn't paying attention. He was too busy obsessing over the clock. The instant the hour hand hit eight, he was gone. The last thing he wanted to do was to spend one extra second in the stupid building.

He glanced around the room. Every chair had someone sitting on it. It wasn't because the class was popular. Every member of the Black Bird Pack had to take this four-week program. The class was basically a Magic 101 class for shifters. And by the looks on their faces, none of them were happy about it. Half of the class had glazed expressions and the other half stared at the clock like Lawrence. Their Alpha could order them to attend, but once it hit eight, they were free. Just like him.

Ivy was the outlier here. She loved teaching. She had designed the curriculum, made printouts, and practiced the demonstrations used to model specific principals. Technically, Lawrence was supposed to be teaching, too. He wouldn't have been able to get a word in edge-wise over Ivy. Not that it bothered him. He had a vital role to play in the back of the classroom.

Ivy's over-exuberance translated into a complete disregard for time. She never noticed the glazed eyes or the bouncing knees. She was too busy sharing her knowledge.

That meant that the burden of ending class fell to Lawrence's shoulders. He looked around the classroom for a victim. In the back row, a young guy was leaning back in his chair. His shoulders stuck out well past everyone else. It gave Lawrence the perfect target.

Pizzicáre. Lawrence flicked his finger towards the poor man.

A nearly invisible dot of light hit the kid on the shoulder. He squealed, jumping two feet in the air. Taking the desk with him. The sudden move jerked his seat partner out of her chair, knocking her onto the floor. The guy flailed around, slapping his shoulder, getting tangled around the furniture. He tripped sideways, hitting the ground with a thud. The whole time, he kept smacking himself.

The entire class was staring at the pair by the time he fumbled back to his feet. Even Ivy had puttered to a stop. The guy froze mid-slap. His eyes darted around as he realized what was going on.

After making sure that everyone was okay, Ivy awkwardly cleared her throat. She looked at the clock. Finally.

We are out of time, she sighed. We'll have to pick this up next week. Remember what you learned about breaking salt circles, and if you have any questions, contact me or Lawrence.

It was the same spiel she gave at the end of every class. So far, no one had contacted either of them. Not that he expected anyone to. He and Ivy weren't popular around Black Bird. The Pack didn't trust magic users very much.

Surprising everyone, Ivy was starting to thaw the townsfolk's attitudes. She was dating two of the Pack's Enforcers, which somehow translated to her being trustworthy. People were willing to be friendly to her. Lawrence, on the other hand, was persona non grata.

It might be because he had attacked them a few months ago. The whole thing had been a big misunderstanding. He had hidden his family's secret journal in an abandoned cabin in Black Bird. Unluckily, the cabin was not abandoned. A woman named Grace Copeland moved in, found his journal, and when he tried to get it back, a huge fight broke out. Black Bird had assumed he was trying to overthrow them. And he had thought they were trying to steal his family's magic.

While he had never outright apologized to the townsfolk, Lawrence had made restitution. He had nearly gotten killed a few weeks ago defending Black Bird against murderous witches. They had used magic to turn some of the Pack into puppets. Lawrence and the Black Bird Coven had set up a ward for the town. Setting everyone free while simultaneously acting as a protective barrier. The Coven who attacked them, the Salici Sacri, couldn't pass through the ward to hurt the Pack anymore. Lawrence had yet to have one person thank him. They still treated him the same.

He was used to being on the outside. He had never been a genuine member of his Pack back home either. Not that it mattered to him. He had something more important than a Pack. He had magic. No other shifter could use magic. It set him apart.

It also tied him to his ancestors. He was the last Benandanti. The last of the witch wolves. He was the representation of the sacrifices his people had made to preserve their unique magic.

Being Benandanti had brought him more confidence and community than his Pack ever had. His mother had taught him everything she had known about their people. She had shared stories about a hidden grimoire that would link them back to their ancestors.

Lawrence had lived for those stories. His mother's conviction that they would find their family's legacy inoculated him against the loneliness of their secret. Her greatest desire had been to find the grimoire.

His mother had died years ago. He wondered briefly what she would think if she saw him now. He had found the lost grimoire. Their magic wasn't a secret anymore. Their old enemies had found them. The Salici Sacri, who had followed his people across the world, were waging war with Black Bird.

I know you did that, Ivy accused him as soon as the last student walked out of the door.

Lawrence shrugged. He would not deny it. It got us out of here faster than if I'd tried to interrupt you. He had attempted to a few times. Ivy had spoken over him.

Ivy rolled her eyes as she continued packing up. Be careful or I just might make you teach next week.

He snorted, Like you would let anyone else teach. You secretly wanted to be a teacher when you were little, didn't you? That's why you were the only Coven member in favor of this.

One of the side effects of being an outed witch was that he was now a member of a legitimate Coven. There were only five members. Ivy was one of them. As the youngest witches in the group, they were often the odd ones out. However, when Ben Thompson requested them to teach this class, Ivy had stood on her own. The rest of the Coven wanted nothing to do with the Pack. Despite being outvoted, they still ended up teaching the blasted class.

Hey, this is a great idea, she defended. If the Salici Sacri get past our defenses, these people won't be completely unprotected.

Will a basic knowledge of magic do much good against a Coven of murderous magic users who hate shifters? Lawrence asked.

She gave me a smarmy look. If you don't like the curriculum, then how about you step in front of the class once?

Don't threaten me. I'll teach them a honing spell that takes everyone right to your house.

Ezra Tate growled from his position in the back. It sounded like he did not like that idea. Ezra didn't talk much. Which made it so much fun to mess with him.

Ezekiel, Ezra's twin and Ivy's other mate, was much more laid back. He tended to just roll with whatever shit Lawrence tried stirring. Sometimes that was more fun. Ezekiel had no issue ganging up on people who were disrupting his mate's class. Those made for good nights.

Lawrence gave Ezra a sly smile. You're just happy because you got to stand next to that Jackson girl. He leaned towards Ivy before whispering loudly. She has a crush on Ezra. Last week, she passed him a note. I don't know what it said, but it made his ears turn red.

Ivy whipped around on Ezra as the big male growled at Lawrence. He smiled and stepped around the pair as Ivy started peppering Ezra with questions.

This late on a weekday, the Community Center was practically empty. The only groups that met at night were the magic class and a card club.

Lawrence sighed internally when he saw that none of the card club had left the building yet. They were all gathered near the entrance, chatting away. He had pestered Ivy, hoping to kill enough time to avoid them. Clearly, he had forgotten how slowly they moved. Considering their age, he should have stayed to watch Ezra attempt to get himself out of trouble.

Lawrence suspected it wouldn't have mattered how long he had waited; they would have still been in the hall. They were here to conduct their odd hazing ritual.

The card club had it out for him. He wasn't being paranoid about it, either. They went out of their way to make life more difficult for him. Just this morning, their queen bee had bumped into him hard enough to send him staggering.

That little push had sent a strange ripple effect on the rest of his day. He had been tripping and dropping stuff wherever he went.

He let out a tired sigh as he looked at the gauntlet before him. The old ladies came in all shapes and sizes. Unfortunately, all of their bags were large.

Excuse me, ladies. Lawrence made sure his smile was extra bright as he attempted to pass by their flock of walkers.

Let me get out of your way, dearie, a chubby, soft-skinned bat crowed as she smacked him on the shin with her cane.

Sorry we're in your way, young man, another kind-eyed demon said as she shifted her purse to her other shoulder. Subsequently, hitting him with it. Lawrence took the shot to the chest as she stared him right in the eyes.

And on it went. Lawrence apologized to every single member of the Black Bird Bridge Club as they continued to beat him with anything on hand. Someone managed to slap him across the face with a scarf before he made it across their field of battle.

Lawrence stopped outside to rub his bruised arms and stomach. Those old ladies hated him more than anyone else in Black Bird. For some reason, they felt brave enough to beat him senseless at every turn. If they had been anyone else, they would have gotten into trouble with Ben a long time ago. Their reputation saved them. Everyone knew what they were like. No one said anything about them taking purses, canes, and walkers to him because they were happy not to be the target of their ire for once.

Maybe he should curse them. It might not make it stop. However, it might slow them down enough to let his body heal.

Although that would put him in the sights of their queen bee, Pearl Pierce. Lawrence massaged his injured shoulder as he recalled the smile on her face when she body-checked him this morning.

Lawrence didn't need everyone to like him. He had never set out to be Mr. Popular. It would be nice to go to the grocery store without there being an incident. He would like to see an old lady and not break out in a sweat.

Lawrence shook himself out of his thoughts and started walking home. His foot caught on an uneven stone and he hit the ground. He didn't get up immediately. He stayed where he had landed on his hands and knees. Lawrence looked around the sidewalk. There weren't any cracks or broken sections. He couldn't see what had made him trip. Odd.

He got up and began walking back to his apartment.

His mind wandered as he thought about the Bridge Club. He was certain that their age wasn't the reason he hated them. The old ladies in the Black Bird Coven were cool. He hadn't expected that. He'd heard stories about Covens being full of pompous magic users who were obsessed with the culture of magic. The Black Bird Coven wasn't like that.

It probably helped that every founding member of the Black Bird Coven was crazy. Even the seemingly normal Maggie was out of her mind. They bickered about nonsense. They were constantly trying the most insane spells. He liked that. The only problem was that they drove him insane, too. The ladies asked him for dating advice. They criticized how he stirred soup. They fought like sisters and not in the fun way. Old ladies were supposed to be quiet and sweet. They weren't supposed to get into shoving matches over the remote.

Lawrence had moved in with them when he first arrived in Black Bird. Considering there were only five witches in the territory, it seemed like a good idea. Their house had a powerful ward around it. He had thought there would be security in numbers.

After two weeks, he had been ready to brave the town. He didn't care if one of the Black Bird wolves tried to eat him in the middle of the street. If he could get away from Stella and Patricia's attempts to have a sex life, it would be worth it.

Luckily, right around the time Lawrence had been losing his mind, Ivy had been moving in with her mates. It meant her apartment was empty. The instant she had asked what she should do about the lease, Lawrence had swept in. He waited until Ezra and Ezekiel had moved the last box and then doubled the ward.

A door opened suddenly, smacking Lawrence in the face. He swore as he rubbed his nose. The person exiting did not notice. They went on their merry way. Lawrence blinked at the shop. All the lights were out. The last person leaving the damn store had smacked him in the face. What kind of luck was that? He rubbed his nose and kept walking.

Lawrence kept walking. The Community Center was on the far side of downtown Black Bird. That didn't mean much. While Black Bird's territory was big, the town itself was small. The population was tiny. Their school was K-12.

Unfortunately, that did not mean that it was a ghost town. As he walked across Main Street, small groups of people were shuffling about. They didn't openly acknowledge him. They knew he was there, though. Lawrence could tell by the way their shoulders stiffened.

Lawrence tried not to blame the townsfolk. They were the product of their surroundings more than anything else. The West Coast was home to some of the most bigoted shifter Packs in the United States. Witches were not just unwelcome; wolves actively chased them out. There was strong propaganda that supported those types of reactions.

The street lamp above Lawrence flashed before going out. Someone gasped. He stopped mid-step and looked up. The light was still intact. He glanced around. Everyone was pretending to ignore him. He returned the favor.

All the other streetlights were on. Nothing looked out of order. He shrugged and kept walking. The instant he stepped under another light, it went out.

In the corner of his eye, he saw someone pull a phone out and start recording. Mindful that he was being watched, Lawrence ignored his curiosity and kept walking. That made it worse. Every single light he walked under exploded. Glass rained down. His shoulders sagged. This would really endear him to the town.

There was a difference between bad luck and a bad curse. This stank of magic. He opened his senses, expecting to pick up on a thread of it. Nothing. Lawrence became suspicious of his surroundings. He casually looked around. Everyone looked shocked by what was happening. There were more than a few cameras recording him now. He didn't see anyone who could be causing this.

Lawrence was gathering too much attention. He had no choice other than to keep moving. Lawrence kept his head down until he was away from Main Street.

Thankfully, the side road was empty. Lawrence relaxed now that he wasn't being filmed. Not that the near darkness was much of an improvement. He scanned the area, not seeing anyone.

He stepped on a piece of trash. Lawrence didn't bother looking down. He kicked it out of the way. His foot struck an empty can. It clattered impossibly loud as it shot out in front of him. The heel of his shoe slid across something slimy. Lawrence glanced down.

He swore. It was like every piece of trash in town had made its way to this side street. Candy wrappers twirled around in the wind like mini dust devils. He kicked his feet up, trying to avoid stepping on a wet paper towel. He ran right into a pole.

Fuck! He rubbed his forehead. Where in the hell had that come from? He hadn't noticed the random speed limit sign set too far onto the sidewalk. He whipped around. A sign down the street had been placed next to the road, not on the sidewalk. This was the only sign that was out of place.

What the hell is going on? He asked out loud. Once again, he checked to see if he could sense any magic. Not a trace.

He hated Black Bird. It felt like the town itself was trying to mess with him. It could do its worst. Lawrence McDowell was here to stay. This was his only chance to discover his ancestor's secrets. He had a Coven. Albeit a small and strange Coven. Those made it worth all the other bullshit.

––––––––

Julie Pierce thanked every star in the sky that she had a job. A job that earned enough money to rent her own apartment. It didn't matter that it was a studio apartment and that the paint was peeling off the baseboards. It was away from her grandma.

Can they see us? Shelby asked quietly.

Julie looked up with a big fake smile plastered on her face. The instant she was standing upright, she saw a flurry of motion as a group of old women quickly looked in the opposite direction. Julie raised her hand. A few of the women waved back after being caught red-handed.

Oh, yeah, she confirmed to her teenage cousin. They're watching.

Probably reporting back to Grandma, Shelby muttered under her breath.

Luckily, every woman in the parking lot was too old to hear what she was saying. Shifter hearing was still susceptible to old age. Thank goodness. Shelby might be seventeen. That did not make her stupid. She knew what she could get away with.

Good. You're learning, Julie joked as she loaded the last of her bags into the car. Come on, let's go get something to drink.

Shelby perked up immediately. She rushed to the passenger side of Julie's rust bucket of a two-door car. Julie couldn't help laughing. Getting drive-thru was also another major benefit of earning a little more money now. It was a bonus that the drink might get her out of the doghouse with Shelby. They had promised to hang out after Julie moved. She had not been as diligent about visiting as she wanted to be.

Why did we say we would help? Shelby asked once the car was on.

Julie wanted to say something positive about helping people. She couldn't. She had been asking herself the same question for hours.

Today was the first meeting of the Black Bird Bridge Club since witches had attacked the territory. As acting president, her grandma had wanted to throw a party. Unfortunately, she had gotten sick at the last minute and asked her granddaughters to take over the festivities 'in her honor'. Julie had said no once. That single word had triggered a guilt trip that ate up most of the afternoon.

"Good granddaughters would help their sick grandmother."

Mary's granddaughter offered. Until she got asked out on a date.

Your mothers never helped and look at them now.

Julie had agreed just to get Grandma to knock it off. Which rewarded the behavior, continuing the cycle. She knew Julie wasn't fazed by most emotional barbs anymore. However, she was short on time. If her grandma complained long enough, Julie would agree to just about anything to get her to stop.

If you figure out a way to say no, teach me, Julie told Shelby.

You're the older one. You should be teaching me this shit, Shelby groaned.

Language, Julie murmured half-heartedly.

You swear, Shelby pointed out.

And I don't live at home with Uncle Richard and Grandma, Julie sassed back.

My dad's not that bad, Shelby defended.

Unless Grandma is around, Julie joked back.

Shelby's dad was a pushover. Uncle Richard did whatever his mom asked him to. Unless he could throw someone under the bus to keep from getting yelled out. It used to make Julie hopping mad. Now she just rolled her eyes at his spinelessness.

Shelby and Julie ordered massive, sweet drinks from the late-night fast-food joint. Julie took her time driving Shelby home. Neither of them was in the mood to be alone.

Do you think they're right about Alpha Thompson? Shelby asked after a few sips.

Julie barely kept herself from sighing. One reason she did not like to help with the Bridge Club was because of the gossip. All the members were nosey old ladies who had nothing better to do than complain. Being around them was anxiety-inducing. The forced time apart had only made their gossip more potent.

Shelby and Julie had stood back at the refreshment table as white-haired warriors shouted conspiracy theories and complaints. All of it revolved around the witch attack that shut the Community Center down.

None of them thought Ben was fit to lead. They disagreed with his security measures. For some reason, they thought the witches had paid his girlfriend to help them infiltrate the territory. Things got so loud in the tiny room that Margot Jenning took out her hearing aids to yell uninterrupted by static.

Julie could understand where Shelby's question was coming from. Shelby had been visiting her mother that weekend. She had missed the excitement. Everything she was hearing was secondhand. Julie mentally swore. She should have explained things before letting Shelby hear it from her friends at school. Or worse, the Bridge Club.

No, they're not. Alpha Thompson is a good leader, Julie said without hesitation. I've gone to all of the Pack meetings about it. I'll tell you everything.

Tell me, Shelby said was so eagerly she nearly barked.

Remember the attack a few months ago? Shelby nodded. There was a connection between that and this new fight. A group of witches wants something that is hidden in Black Bird. They are willing to lie, hurt, and kill in order to get it. The Enforcers and Black Bird Coven have been trying to stop them.

That doesn't seem like a good idea, Shelby countered. If witches want it, why would we let that Coven of old bitches guard it? They'll take it for themselves?

Language! Julie reprimanded. The Black Bird Coven has done nothing to hurt the territory.

They keep cursing Grandma, Shelby argued.

She deserves it, Julie thought.

Moving on, Julie pressed forward, letting the tangent lie where it fell. The bad witches, emphasis on bad, stole a package that was headed for Chic Chick and replaced the necklaces inside with perfect knockoffs. Except the replacement necklaces had mind control spells on them.

Shelby swore. Julie sighed. She didn't bother reprimanding her again.

It came to a head when some of these controlled Pack members started attacking our people. Alpha Thompson used the alarm system. We corralled the townsfolk into the high school gym. The Pack posted Enforcers all over to keep people from getting hurt.

Julie half turned to Shelby as she maneuvered through the suburbs. Without Alpha Thompson's alert system, our highly trained Enforcers, and the Black Bird Coven, our own family would have torn us apart.

When Julie glanced over, Shelby was hunched over, staring at her suspiciously. That's not what I heard.

Julie resisted the urge to bite at the teen. She could be annoyingly contrary. Well, what are you hearing?

Alpha Thompson wants to banish the families who argued with him after the rogue attacks. He couldn't get the votes. He and the Black Bird Coven came up with a plan to force families to move.

That made Julie's stomach sour. "Are