by Shannon Page
“Thanks,” I said, still watching him as we walked. No suggestive grin; no sign that any double entendre had been intended. Okay then. “How is it going, with the investigation? Has your father found anything?”
“Nothing more.”
I wasn’t surprised. Leonora had indicated much the same thing, when I’d asked her this morning. Indeed, she’d chided me for my impatience. “These things take time, daughter.”
At least Jeremy was more polite than that. “I will be certain to let you know if and when there is anything to tell,” he said.
“Thanks.”
We walked in comfortable silence for a few blocks. I had felt like I’d wanted company, but now I had nothing much to say. Jeremy seemed to sense that; he walked beside me, looking around at the sights. I fell into my own thoughts, enjoying his gentle presence.
After a while, I looked up, startled to realize where I had unconsciously steered us. I stopped, pointing. “That building there,” I said, “that’s where Logan lived.”
“Oh!” Jeremy looked nonplussed. He paused, then walked closer to the building, looking at it carefully. “I did not realize that. Is that why…?”
I shrugged. “Not intentionally. I was just wandering. But I wonder if my undermind was trying to tell me something.”
“We did go to lunch, but we met at the restaurant,” he mused, still looking at the building. Sadness carved lines into his handsome face. “It’s a nice building.”
“She was happy here.” I stood next to him, casting my senses about. After another minute, I sighed. “I still don’t sense Willson anywhere about.”
“Her familiar?” I nodded, and Jeremy echoed my sigh. “I must confess, I do not know much about feline companions, but this does seem peculiar. I hope he hasn’t met an unhappy end.”
“Me too. He was a good cat.” No animal shelter could contain a witch’s cat. Perhaps he was just grief-stricken, confused, emotionally lost. I could certainly relate to that.
“Do you want to go inside?” Jeremy asked. “Look more closely?”
I thought a moment, then shook my head. “I don’t see that it would help. And I’m not…” I trailed off.
He patted my arm. “I understand.”
We stood there sadly another minute, and walked on.
— CHAPTER ELEVEN —
It became a nice daily ritual, an afternoon walk with Jeremy. After the first few days, I began sleeping at my house again, though I still spent a lot of time at the coven house. No breakthroughs were made in whatever investigations were still ongoing. Life was going to go on, despite my having lost my best friend to a mystery.
I began inviting Jeremy in for a drink after our walks. He would stay an hour or so before taking his leave. We talked of many things, large and small. I do not remember most of our conversations; their details were less important than the fact of our building a new friendship, atop the ruins of our loss.
One day, a week or so later, the sun had been shining, and we had walked farther than usual. Relaxing after the journey felt marvelous; we were joking about how old and out-of-shape we both were. Jeremy sat next to me on my couch, a little closer than was technically necessary.
Our walk had been strenuous enough that I’d sweated going up and down those hills. And the scent I caught from him told me he’d worked hard too.
I’d never smelled any exertion quite so alluring.
Startled, I scooted back against the arm of the couch, facing Jeremy even as I drew farther away.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, looking around with some alarm.
“Nothing—nothing here. Just…I don’t want to…” But that wasn’t true. Because I did want to, at least part of me. I just didn’t think it was a good idea.
And why was that?
Because it was far too soon. I was too much of an emotional mess. And Jeremy had been at least halfway in love with Logan. And I was not single, even if I hadn’t yet resolved anything with Raymond. I had put him off with texts a few more times, but that was no answer. I had to face him soon. I had just not yet mustered the resolve. “I’m not in a good place to…you know, start anything,” I finally managed.
Jeremy smiled and leaned back against the couch arm on his side. His scent retreated further as he did. “I understand, of course, Calendula Isadora.” His use of my formal name sent a confused thrill through me—he’d been so good about calling me Callie since I’d mentioned it. “But, if I may, I would like to say a few things. With your permission, of course.” His green eyes shone with earnest, careful energy.
I swallowed. “Yes, please, you can say anything. If we’re going to be friends, we have be able to be honest with each other.”
He took a sip of his Bulgarian frog brandy, then set the snifter down on the coffee table. “You may know that my father was interested in us becoming acquainted…and perhaps far more than that.”
I nodded. That had been clear enough, when I’d visited Gregorio in his lab. Though it felt like a thousand years ago, now.
“I felt much the same way as I imagine you did,” Jeremy went on. “In this modern world, arranged unions are quite out of fashion.” I had to smile at this. And I had to visit the Old Country some day—did everyone there talk this way? “But I admire and respect my father, and saw no reason to refuse his quite reasonable request: to simply get to know you. I want to know everyone here, after all; no reason not to start with his dear friend’s daughter.”
“It’s funny that Gregorio didn’t say anything to me about it,” I said. “Or my father, for that matter. I never even knew you existed.”
“No, not so funny, when you think about it from their perspective. Remember how old our fathers are, mine particularly. When they came of age, courtship was entirely the responsibility of the warlock. Witches were presented to society when they were eligible, but all they were expected to do was look lovely and develop their powers.”
“That’s not exactly true,” I said. “Maybe it looked like that, but witches have always been in charge of matchmaking. That’s what coven mothers do: they assemble their own covens, and arrange strategic unions for witches who want them. Or who are willing, anyway.”
Jeremy shrugged. “Perhaps it could be seen that way. Or perhaps your own training, at the hands of a very powerful coven mother, emphasized the importance of covens.” I started to protest, but he went on. “I did not mean to start an argument! All I meant to say was that my father would not naturally think to consult you, at least not in the preliminary stages of any potential arrangement. Leonora, perhaps, but not you.” He grinned at me. “Frankly, I’m lucky he even mentioned it to me.”
I smiled back at him. “I don’t want to fight either. But these issues are…touchy, to say the least.”
“Oh, I understand. And thank you for hearing me out. As you said, we must be able to speak honestly to one another.” He had such a nice smile. “What I wanted to say was that…whatever my father’s agenda may be, and whatever has transpired since then, I have become interested in your company for entirely my own reasons.”
“I like you too,” I said. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you. These walks have become the part of my day I most look forward to. They’ve helped…” I waved my hand. He understood.
“They have helped me too,” he said. “A great deal. I do not know whether you are interested in a union—now or ever. I myself was not, until I met Logan. I…found myself quite taken with her. And quite unexpectedly.” He paused, gazing into the distance a moment. “She… awoke feelings in me that I imagined had been long dead.” Now he turned toward me. “My apologies, this must be a very awkward surprise for you.”
“I…um…” I didn’t know exactly where he was going with this, but I was beginning to have a pretty good idea.
“I do understand that, given your loss of such a dear friend, entering into any sort of romantic entanglement is likely not a priority.”
“Well, um…”
“And now I
am putting words in your mouth, Calendula. Please correct me if I am misperceiving anything.” A tentative flash of grin.
“No, you’ve pretty much got it right.” I noticed he didn’t even mention Raymond. No doubt he shared witchkind’s notions about such things: dabbling with a human was barely worth noticing. I reached over and patted Jeremy’s knee. In a sisterly sort of way. “I do feel like…yeah, romance is sort of not where my heart is right now. It’s nothing about you at all, though. I like you a lot.”
He put his hand on mine and gave it a gentle squeeze, pressing it to his warm knee. That sisterly contact suddenly became…a whole lot more. He held my gaze with those green eyes. “I am glad to hear it. Because the final thing I wanted to say is, despite how we met, and despite what has transpired for both of us since then, I find you very attractive and desirable, and I do hope that circumstances might change in the future. I would be honored and thrilled to explore a romantic venture with you. Even one of short duration, though not ruling out a longer term.”
“Um.” I stared back at him. He released my hand; I slowly took it back. My heart was thumping, my cheeks were on fire, and words fled my brain. “I. Um. Thank you?”
Jeremy gave me a wry smile. “I am getting the strong impression that this is not how such things are done in this country.”
I giggled, the tension slipping away. “No, not really. Warlocks here are more…well, nobody’s direct, you know? You’re always guessing: what did that mean? What should I do?”
“How tedious,” he said, still smiling. “I prefer directness.”
“I…can see that that would save a lot of miscommunication,” I said. “So what do Old Country warlocks do for amusement, if they are not playing romantic guessing games with witches?”
Jeremy laughed. “Ah, Callie, your sense of humor is delightful.” He finished his drink and set the empty glass on the table. “Well. At the risk of declaring myself, only to flee, perhaps I ought to let you alone with your thoughts. I imagine you are wanting to get back to your coven house soon?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Didn’t you say earlier you planned to dine there tonight?”
I shrugged. “I’m thinking I might make dinner here instead.”
He nodded again, ignoring my subtle invitation as he stood. So much for speaking directly, I thought, chagrined at myself. “Thank you for a lovely day,” he said.
“No, thank you.”
We grinned stupidly at each other for a minute. Then he said, “Shall we walk again tomorrow?”
“Absolutely.”
I saw him to the door, and then I was alone in my house. Well, alone with Elnor. I sat back on the couch and called her onto my lap.
We sat there as I replayed the conversation in my mind. It was fascinating, the frank but pressure-free way he—what, propositioned me?—no, not quite that, or not entirely. He had expressed his interest, as well as his understanding of the situation.
How rare. How charming.
I scratched Elnor behind the ears, enjoying her purr. Had I wanted him to stay? Yes, definitely, part of me. Well, I could have asked him to, couldn’t I? Yes.
But he’d made it quite clear the door was open for the future. That he was giving me time to think, in fact. He hadn’t even expected an answer, at least not yet. I hadn’t ruined anything by not being ready.
Was I developing feelings for him? I seemed to be. I liked him. He was kind, and interesting, and humble. He was sexy, and sensitive. He came from a good family—the very best, in fact. But he wasn’t an arrogant ass about it. About anything.
He was a warlock. I was a witch.
If I had been looking to date any warlock, he would be the top candidate, no question.
But I wasn’t. I’d been happy in my relationship with Raymond… until recently, anyway.
I didn’t know how to even talk to Raymond now. When the biggest thing happening in my life was wrapped in so many secrets, I couldn’t figure out how to tell him about it.
But I couldn’t see him and not tell him.
So I kept avoiding the issue, hoping I’d figure out what to do…later.
I got up and set Elnor on the floor, then went down the hall to the kitchen. Petrana still stood in the back corner.
She watched me, impassively, as I walked in. Waiting for orders, undoubtedly, with no impatience whatsoever, though it was hard not to project emotion onto her. I knew, intellectually at least, that she didn’t care that I just left her standing here for weeks on end, or that both healers and the Elders’ investigators had subjected her to some rather unpleasant-looking probes, to determine if she had been in any way responsible for Logan’s demise—even tangentially.
“Petrana,” I said. “Would you please give the stove a good cleaning? I will be cooking here this evening.”
“Yes, Mistress Callie.” She ambled over to the stove and got to work.
“I could have asked him to stay,” I said to Petrana, fully aware that I was actually talking to myself. “I could even call him now and invite him back.”
“Yes, Mistress Callie,” she said.
“I mean, I can totally talk to him tomorrow. I will, in fact. We’re walking again.”
“Yes, Mistress Callie.” She scrubbed methodically, from the back of the stove to the front, removing nothing more than dust. She finished by drawing a clean cloth over the surfaces, then turned back to face me.
“Thank you, Petrana,” I said. “That’s all for now.”
“Yes, Mistress Callie.”
I sent a message to Leonora, asking her to convey my regrets to the other sisters, and to the students, particularly Gracie. My coven mother wished me a pleasant evening and reminded me to stay vigilant.
Yes, Mother, I assured her.
I made myself a light dinner, then puttered around, contemplating going up to the lab, perhaps even to start an experiment. Eventually, though, I just went to bed, read a few pages, and turned off the light. I had nearly drifted off to sleep when I felt a pressure at the foot of the mattress. I bolted upright, my heart pounding.
Niad sat there, gazing at me, arms folded across her chest.
“Good god!” I gasped. “Where did you come from?”
“The ley line.”
“I didn’t sense you.” And I didn’t invite you in. I drew the covers up; I wasn’t going to sit here naked in front of her.
“Clearly.” She smiled, quick and catlike, as her eyes danced around the room. Looking for someone? “Sorry if I startled you. Leonora was wondering how you were doing.”
“We talked earlier this evening, she knows I’m fine.” I peered at her. “She did not send you.”
“I did not say she did.” Niad put a carefully constructed look of concern on her lovely face. “We’re all worried about you, Calendula.”
“I’m fine, as you can plainly see.” Her words might be more convincing if she’d ever given me any indication that she actually liked me. “I’m trying to sleep. Why are you here, really?”
She frowned. “You are not yourself; you are still heavy with grief. It makes you vulnerable. Frankly, I am surprised at finding you alone.”
“What are you talking about?”
Now she sniffed. “You spend an awful lot of time with Jeremiah Andromedus these days. Don’t think it’s gone unnoticed.”
I clutched the sheet to my chest. “Oh, I see. Jealous much?”
“Of course not. Just worried about you.” She gave me a patently fake smile. “You really should be spending more time at home.”
“This is my home. It’s perfectly safe, and I have every right to be here.” Now I sounded petulant. I calmed my voice and said, “Go away.”
Her taut poise cracked; I felt a flash of power in her, barely restrained. “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t messed with magic that’s bigger than you—than any of us. If you had stayed where you belonged. Everything would be in control, we’d all be safe. And whole.” Her lips were a thi
n white line, her eyes blazed with anger.
I leaned forward, my fingers white around the sheet. “What in the Blessed Mother’s name are you talking about? I didn’t cause any of this!”
“So who did?” She was almost shouting. “You can’t just…do what you want all the time! There are rules for a reason! How far are you going to push this?”
Fury overtook me. “Are you insinuating that something I did sent my best friend’s spirit out of her body? And why? So I could steal her boyfriend?”
Niad tossed her head, sending blond waves cascading back over her shoulder only to twine back up into the air around her. I could feel her working to get control of herself, even as she pushed me over the edge. “No, you likely did not smite her directly, Callie,” she said, biting the words out coldly. “But there are systems at work in the world, so many of which we know nothing about. Particularly if one is muddled as to one’s own motives. Pluck one strand of the spider’s web, and the reverberations are felt throughout.”
I shook my head, trying to calm myself as well. “Who do you think you are, to lecture me? Get out. Now.”
“I am your coven sister. I care about you.”
“You care about the coven, I’ll grant you that.” I glared at her. “So go back there. Get out of my house.”
“This is not demarcated space.” She vanished onto the ley line before I could respond.
I sank back against my pillows, heart pounding, and sent a message through the æther to Jeremy before I’d even had time to think. You’re so right, I do need wards here.
He replied promptly. I would be happy to assist you.
I laughed, but then thought about it. If I made them myself, my sisters could still have easy access, unless I blocked anyone specifically—say, a certain blonde vixen. So much of our magic was shared, even if we did each have our individual strengths. But if I added warlock magic to the mix? That would be different, and powerful.