The Witch's Love Spell Book 2

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The Witch's Love Spell Book 2 Page 8

by Larissa Ladd


  Her heart stopped beating, and during that break in existence, Skyler swore time stood still. It took forever for her breath to return, for the feel of blood pumping in her veins to make her feel warm again.

  Chapter 20

  Chad’s head nearly exploded. The implications here were beyond belief, and he couldn’t make them sit right in his psyche. How long had Skyler known? Definitely not from the beginning, but he’d been right on Saturday for sure. She figured it all out, and now her brother sat in front of him to confirm it.

  But there was a lot more to it. After all this time, he finally understood. He understood why she’d given him the creeps when he’d first met her. He understood the reason that she seemed almost immune to compulsion and why she’d looked at him with such an odd expression when he’d used it on others. He even understood why she’d given him the pen that he kept with him almost all the time. It was a talisman, whether to track his movements or put some other spell on him, he wasn’t sure.

  There was one solid truth. Creed Duran hadn’t come by a magical ability such as his through a father that worked construction and died at a young age. And he couldn’t have come by it through a mortal mother. In order to be a warlock, you needed a father who already was one or at least, according to the legends, a mother who was a witch.

  His eyes focused on Skyler, who had tears streaming down her face. She hadn’t wanted him to know. Her mother was a witch, and that meant she was as well. How had he missed that? In all his investigation of her, through all their time together, she hadn’t slipped once, had given him not a single clue. How old and practiced was she? And how much about her was a lie?

  For all he knew, she’d been checking up on him and Van so that their coven could be certain of their own safety. He cursed silently at the thought of Van, who had been out of touch for two days and likely shacked up with Jayden, who certainly had to be a witch as well. He leveled an accusatory gaze at Skyler. “You lied to me. Or, rather, you omitted to truth. Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

  Even though she was crying, Skyler raised an eyebrow at him. “Why should I? You didn’t offer up that sort of information.”

  Shaking his head, he hung it, unsure what to do now. He was in love with Skyler, but she’d lied to him, and he had no idea if the woman he loved was the real her or not. He couldn’t stand the idea of being played, and it was probably best to shatter Van’s image before he was in too deep. After all, there would already be a nuclear disaster to clean up once he spilled the truth to his brother. He didn’t have time to try to dig down and find out how much he really knew about Skyler.

  His original plan had been to rid himself of her, and that should have been his continued goal all along. He had killer good instincts, and he’d ignored them. And for what? For the love of a dishonest woman? No, he couldn’t go on like this. He needed to make a decision, right now, and stick to it.

  He started with Creed. He had compassion for the boy, who was probably much older than he looked as well. Becoming something so powerful was hard enough when you knew how to control it. Without that help, it would be an utter nightmare of an existence. He also liked the boy’s style, his courage and determination not to back down. “I’ll help you, Creed. Lord knows the last thing this world needs is a warlock with no idea how to contain or conduct himself. My brother is a big enough piece of work. We can at least make your life better.”

  He then turned to Skyler, his heart breaking. She’d done this for her brother, divulged a dangerous secret and lost something she deeply desired. It was written in her expression as her face crumbled, even before he’d said anything. “I admire that you love your brother this much and asked for help, Skyler. But I can’t trust you, and that isn’t how I want to live my life. Don’t worry, your career is no longer at stake. I’ll make sure you have a permanent position there. After all, as it turns out, you’re the only writer on staff worth the money we pay you. But as for us, it’s over.”

  He stood to leave, watching Skyler sob, and motioned to Creed. “Make sure she’s alright, then meet me outside. We have work to do.”

  Skyler shoved Creed away as he tried to hug and comfort her. “Just go, Creed. He said he would help you, and I want you to get better.” She meant it, and she tried to show it in her eyes as she turned to him. “Take what he offers you, Creed. You can stay with me or with him or whatever you want to do. I’m glad you’re going to get help. And trust that I’ll be alright. I just need a few days to wash that man out of my hair.” She tried to joke lightly about it, but it was over. And she hurt.

  Creed searched her face and found the truth. He nodded. “It’s all going to work out in the end. I hope you know that.”

  She nodded. “I do.” Drying her tears and forcing a smile, she took a deep breath and stood. “Besides, if I wallow in my own self-pity, I might get stuck in a rut and not get back out there in time to catch the right man.” She pushed his shoulder toward the door. “Now, get out of my way. I’ve got some searching to do.” At least she’d accomplished one thing—her brother would be saved, and that truly made her happy. Maybe, if she earned the karma from that, she’d find her own happiness sooner rather than later.

  END

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  Larissa Ladd is a dreamer with insights fresh as the frost newly formed on the twig whose snap echoes through the moonlit forest. Since as a child she discovered the storybook world of ghouls and goblins, she's been a devotee of the eerie, the supernatural, and all that raises the hairs on the back of the neck. Her spine still shivers with delight when she huddles fearfully in a darkling corner, enthralled in suspenseful tales from her favorite authors Dean Koontz, Stephen King, and John Saul. Feast your eyes on the scintillating flashes of garish color dabbed forth from her pen.

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