“Walking home, actually. Can’t drive my truck like this unless I want to buy a new one.”
“I suppose not.” She dropped her head to look at him through her lashes. “You want some company?”
Her company? More than anything. But he wasn’t the safest guy to be around at the moment. He spread his arms wide. “Walking next to me right now would probably be hazardous to your health.”
“I’m a Marchand witch.” She stuck her foot in one of the loops of wrought iron and climbed the fence, vaulting over the top and landing on her feet with catlike grace. “We’re immune to fire.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about—”
She grabbed his hand. “See?”
Heat charged through his body that had nothing to do with the flames covering him. A second later, he snapped out of it and reflexively yanked his hand back. “You’re going to get burned.”
“But I can’t be.” She held her hand up, wiggling her fingers. “No burns, no blisters, nothing.”
He peered closer. “How about that.” He took a step closer. “Am I hot?”
She gave him a wry little smile. “Didn’t we already have this conversation in your truck?”
He repeated his last sentence in his head, then snorted. “That’s not what I meant. I meant can you feel my heat? Wait, that sounds like—these flames are putting out heat, they have to be.” The woman muddled his thoughts to the point he worried he might be turning a little red. Hopefully, the flames covered that. “Are you affected by the temperature at all?”
She held her palms up to him the way someone might approach a campfire. “I can feel how hot you are, but it doesn’t bother me.”
He nodded, wondering what it would take to get her to hold his hand again. “Great.”
“You want company, then?”
“I’d love some.” To anyone else, he would have said no. He didn’t really want company. He wanted Em.
Chapter Twenty-four
Em had a sudden light, fizzy feeling in her belly as she walked with Deacon. It had started the moment she’d spotted him from the driveway.
And had only increased once she’d joined him on the sidewalk, a move that had been completely impulsive. Driven, perhaps, by the weight of what had just been laid on her. She needed something to take her mind off all this new information, just for a little bit.
But that didn’t explain why she caught herself flirting with him, too, tossing her hair back and giving him coy looks. What was going on with her?
Was it because she was feeling a little reckless, knowing that once she was initiated there was no going back? Or because she knew that she was staying? Had that flipped some internal switch that said it was okay to get involved?
Maybe. But then, why Deacon? Sure, he was hot. And not just because he was currently on fire. She let out a little laugh at the joke.
Deacon shot her a glance. “What’s so funny?”
She shook it off. “Nothing, just thinking.”
“About?”
Answering truthfully wasn’t hard. “How my life has changed. I came here in desperate need of a new start, and now I’m getting it. And more. It’s amazing.”
He nodded. “I’m happy for you.”
“But you’re not happy about something else.” She rolled that around in her head. What was it about her staying that could be upsetting him? Then it hit her. “You’re not getting your reward.”
He squinted through the flames. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just saying people usually do things in hopes of a payoff. Not saying there’s anything wrong with that. It’s how the world works. But I’m guessing you were hoping for something from my aunt in exchange for convincing me to leave.”
His squint deepened. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing you want to tell me, you mean.”
He scowled a bit. “Why are you so perceptive?”
She shrugged. “I’ve had to be to survive. And I’m not always. But it’s pretty hard to pull something over on me. Not saying that’s what you were doing—”
“But I was. In a way.” He stared straight ahead, like making eye contact was suddenly too much. “For my own ends. Nothing bad, I promise.”
She nodded. “It’s okay. You really do believe that Shadowvale isn’t such a great place to live, don’t you?”
He nodded, still frowning. “It has a lot of downsides. For me anyway. Doesn’t mean it will for you.”
He seemed so unhappy about what he’d done that words didn’t feel like enough of a reassurance. She impulsively took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Really, I’m not mad.”
“Good. Thanks.”
She went to let go of his hand, but he hung on.
She grinned, a half smile just to herself, and relaxed her hand in his. They walked that way for a few minutes, not saying anything. It was remarkably comfortable and, for Em, stupidly exciting.
So much so, she almost giggled. Wow, how sad was she that holding a man’s hand got her this worked up? Sure, it had been ages since she’d been on a date, but this was just holding hands.
Granted, Deacon was crazy handsome and definitely had an untouchable vibe going on that made this sudden contact feel like a big thing, but it was still just holding hands.
She glanced at him. He was looking straight ahead, acting like Mr. Cool.
As much as someone who was on fire could anyway.
She couldn’t stand it. “Gracie would lose it if she saw us.”
He looked down at their hands and smirked. “She would. Best we don’t tell her, hmm?”
“Right.”
Another few moments passed before he spoke again. “I’m glad you’re staying.”
Happiness made her tongue loose and her mood buoyant. “Why? So you can take me out on a date?”
He stopped walking, which brought her to a stop as well. The look in his eyes was hard to decipher through the flames, but it seemed to Em that the fire would have been there either way.
He nodded. “You want to go out with me?”
She stared into his eyes. What would it hurt? She had a job and a place to stay. Why not go out with him? “Yes.”
“You’re coming to my sister’s party, right? So come as my date.”
“You think Gracie can handle that?”
He laughed. “If you say yes, I guess we’ll find out.”
That giddy, shuddery, lighter-than-air feeling came back. Like she was floating. Like she was outside herself looking in. “I’m saying yes.”
“I’ll pick you up at five, then. You can come get the cake with me.”
“Deal.” Impulsively, she leaned in to kiss him. A split second into the forward motion of it, she realized what she was doing. Realized that it was too soon, too much, that she’d only scare him off.
She tried to stop herself, but physics had taken over and there was no going back. Her mouth met his.
She put her hands to his chest to push back.
But he took hold of her shoulders and pulled her closer.
And then her world went up in flames.
Hot, delicious, Deacon-flavored flames.
* * *
Emeranth tasted like the best bad idea Deacon had ever had. He shouldn’t be kissing her. She was Amelia’s niece, and that could only lead to trouble. She was also the woman who had cost him his chance at freedom.
And yet he couldn’t make himself care about anything but the feel of her mouth on his.
Then reality kicked in and reminded him that he was standing on the sidewalk in one of the nicest parts of town. While on fire.
Not exactly inconspicuous.
Reluctantly, he broke the kiss with a sigh. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
“That was exactly what I was hoping to hear.” She crossed her arms and gave him a perturbed look. “So romantic. No wonder you’re single.”
“I just meant we shouldn’t have done that here. On the sidewalk.”
“Why? Is kissi
ng illegal in Shadowvale? Because that might actually stop me from moving here.”
Her teasing tone and glinting eyes told him she knew better, but this was no joking matter. “No. But your aunt might not like it.”
“You know I’m a grown woman, right?”
He gave her a quick once-over. “I am aware.” Very. Aware.
She gave him the same once-over, but there was nothing quick about the way her gaze raked him. “Good, because I know that you’re a grown man. And that means we can do as we like.”
His body temperature continued to rise and still had nothing to do with the flames bathing him. Where had this side of her come from? He didn’t know. And wasn’t sure he should question it. He nodded. “It does. But your aunt’s probably already mad at me for failing to scare you off.”
“I don’t think so. Now that she knows I’m cool with everything living here means, I think she’s happy to have the company.”
“In that case, I’m glad for both of you. She’s been alone a long time.”
Em took a step toward him, close enough that the flames licked at her. “So have I.”
Gracie’s words, about having his hands full with Em, suddenly came back to him. And having his hands full of her was all he could think about. “Well,” he breathed out, “I can fix that.”
She smiled and bit her lip. “I should head back before my aunt thinks you kidnapped me.”
“I’ll walk you back.”
“And risk setting her house on fire?” She shook her head. “That’s not a good idea.”
“I guess not.”
A car drove past, slowing as it went by. Probably for a better look. Even in Shadowvale, a man on fire was worth a second glance. But that also meant they’d been seen together. What was done was done.
He closed the small gap between them with a single step, reached up, and cupped her jaw to pull her close for one more kiss. Hard and claiming, the kind of kiss he’d wanted to plant on her since the first time he’d laid eyes on her. “Have a good night. See you tomorrow at five.”
She nodded, backing away with a sweetly stunned expression. “Five,” she managed.
With a grin, he turned and headed for home again.
Tomorrow night might be Gracie’s party, but he felt like he was the one getting the present.
Maybe staying in Shadowvale wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Chapter Twenty-five
Em ran into the house. “Aunt Amelia, where are you? I want to do the initiation now. Aunt Amelia?”
“What’s all the yelling?” Amelia came out of the library.
Em nearly skidded into her. “Hi, sorry. I want to do the initiation. Now. Tonight. Can we?”
“Slow down.” Amelia gave her a stern look. “What’s all this about?”
“I’m just ready. I want to be here. There’s no point in putting off the initiation. I want full access to my powers. I want to be the me I’m supposed to be.”
Amelia’s eyes narrowed. “Something’s got you all wound up.”
Deacon’s kisses, but she wasn’t about to tell her aunt that. “I’m just ready, that’s all.”
Amelia leaned in. “And you smell like smoke.”
“Do I?” Em did her best innocent look. “Pretty sure the neighbors have a fire going. Lots of woodsmoke in the air.”
Amelia didn’t look quite convinced. “You know going through this initiation means your fate is sealed.”
“I know.” Em made herself stop smiling like an infatuated teenager, even though that’s what she felt like. This was a serious matter they were discussing, and she wanted Aunt Amelia to know she understood that. “But how would you feel if you’d found out a part of yourself had been kept away from you all your life?”
“I suppose very much the same way you do.” Amelia sighed. “All right. We’ll do it.”
“Thank you.” Em hugged her. “Where? What do I need to do? Should I change?”
“What you have on is fine. We’ll do it in my sanctum.”
Em’s brows went up. “And that is?”
“My personal space for practicing my craft. You’ll have one. It might be an entire room, a dedicated closet, or just a space on a shelf. Whatever works for you. But having a space that you can dedicate is important to learning your art.”
“Good to know.” Em smiled. “See? I’m learning already.”
Amelia nodded. “So you are. I just need to prepare a few things. Some of them I’ll need help with. Beck—”
“Yes?”
The reaper spoke from over Em’s right shoulder, causing her to jump. “Do you have to be so quiet?” She clapped her hand to her heart, laughing a little. “I want to live long enough to get initiated, thank you very much.”
He grinned. “My apologies. I’ll endeavor to make more noise in the future.”
“You’ll do no such thing.” Amelia pursed her lips. “I like quiet.”
Beckett blinked innocently. “As you wish. What can I help you with?”
“I need four unbleached beeswax candles from Spellbound. The tall ones. Thoreau chewed up most of my supply, the naughty boy. And get a few large sage bundles. The organic kind, not that cheap stuff. I have a few, but since you’re going anyway, might as well get some more.”
“Got it,” Beckett said. “Anything else?”
“I have everything else we’ll need.”
“Then I’ll be back as quickly as I can. I’ll bring them to you when I return.”
“Thank you,” Amelia said.
He left them with a quick nod.
Em rubbed her hands together. “This is very exciting. What’s next?”
“Next we go to my sanctum and prepare by casting a circle.”
Em didn’t really know what that meant, but she was eager to find out. She followed her aunt through the house to a locked door near the kitchen. Odd, but Em didn’t remember seeing the door before.
Amelia waved her hand over the lock, and it clicked open.
“Impressive,” Em said.
“It’s a simple spell, but a very useful one.” Amelia opened the door, and they went down a flight of stone steps.
“This place has a basement?” The air was noticeably cooler, but Em wasn’t uncomfortable.
“Most houses here do. Except those in the bayous.”
“Right.” Em glanced back toward the door. “Will that lock itself again? Because Beckett won’t be able to get in if it does.”
“Not until I wish it to lock.” They hit flat ground, and Amelia whispered, “Luminos.”
Lights blinked on.
“Hey, this is really nice.”
The stone steps had given way to a tiled slate floor covered with a rich woven rug. Two walls were paneled with dark wood shelves, and a beautiful Edison bulb chandelier hung from the ceiling. Matching sconces illuminated the rest of the room.
A large fireplace took up another wall. Two leather chairs sat before it with a small table between them.
Another great reading spot, Em thought.
A long, gleaming, wood table was positioned closer to the walls of shelves. It sat at an angle so the ends pointed at the shelves. Behind it was a tall-backed stool of metal and wood with a padded leather seat. Apparently Aunt Amelia’s desk, as it were.
The table held a few items. A well-used candle in a pretty brass holder. Notebooks, pens, a fancy box inlaid with enamel and stones. A short cranberry glass vase filled with feathers and quills.
But what really caught Em’s eye were the shelves. Or rather, what was on them. Books of all descriptions. Magical books, Em guessed. Grimoires, Deacon had called them.
And then there were the containers. Glass and pottery jars, boxes of wood and metal. All labeled. Tiger Tears. Brimstone. Lightning Bug Wings. Dragon Scales. Hemlock Root. Ashes of Saints. Pixie Dust. Silver Filings. Misc Claws.
Herbs took up at least a shelf and a half. The other half of that shelf held small glass jars of precious stones, all faceted and sparkling in
the light.
It was, like many things Em had already seen, hard to believe. She approached one of the shelves. “This almost seems like a movie set.”
“I suppose it would, seeing as how you’ve never been in a sanctum before. But the movies never get it right. Too much eye of newt and wing of bat. Most spells rarely call for such outlandish ingredients.”
“You know you have a box up there that’s labeled Dried Newt Lungs, right?”
“I have a love-hate relationship with that box.” Amelia stepped onto a footstool and retrieved the container. She took the lid off. “My weakness.”
Em laughed. Hard. The box was filled with gold-wrapped chocolate hazelnut truffles. “Okay, that’s a riot.”
Aunt Amelia stared longingly into the box. “I love those things, but at my age they go straight to my hips. So I keep them down here on a high shelf in the hopes of avoiding temptation.”
“But you want one right now, don’t you?” The sweet, chocolaty smell rising off them was making her mouth water.
Her aunt frowned. “I do. But now is not the time.” She put the lid back on and replaced the box in its spot. “Maybe after your initiation is done. Right now, we have work to do. A circle to cast, for one thing. Which means this rug has to come up.”
Together, they rolled it up and carried it back to the base of the wall.
Amelia brushed off her hands, then got a large container off of another shelf. “Salt. It’s the basis for a lot of work. I like Celtic sea salt, but you can use whatever you like.”
“Table salt?”
“Salt is salt.” Amelia took a handful. “Now I will cast the circle and name the elements. Even though fire is the one we’re most concerned with, all four are important. The circle is almost always cast clockwise, and we tie the elements to the four points of the compass to ground them to our work.”
Em nodded, fascinated. “Okay.” All of this was so foreign, and yet something in her seemed to already understand what her aunt was telling her.
Amelia began drawing a large circle on the floor with the salt. At north, she made a small circle for earth; at east, one for air; at south, the circle for fire; and at west, a circle for water. Then she closed the larger circle at north, never once stepping inside it.
The Trouble With Witches Page 17