Page 42 of Waltzing With Witches

A resonant laugh echoes from the watch. “So I’ve heard. Your mother is in a rage about this Wesley situation, and the castle tells me you have an interesting guest.”

Ah. It’s an odd fact that my castle has always liked one of my three parents. They communicate…somehow. I’ve never quite figured it out. I assume there’s a magical artifact somewhere here, but the castle refuses to say.

I bet Morgan could weasel it out of him.

Him.

I shake my head.

“Did you know the castle is male?”

A moment of silence stretches long.

“Buildings are always female.”

“Not this one. Morgan says the castle’s male, and he’s confirmed it. She named him Ben.”

Not that she told me; I simply overheard it like I hear everything. Including the conversation they had last night that she probably forgot I could hear. Or wanted me to hear.

Gods.

Betmal chuckles. “Your little mate is an interesting creature. Have you given in yet?”

“No,” I grumble. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

A soft sigh reaches me. “You should try, my son. For both of your sakes.”

Bitter anger streaks down my spine. I open my mouth to shout, but my father continues, “In any case, I won’t press you on the topic of her. I imagine it’s dreadful enough scenting her and hearing her all day long, particularly if Ben adores her, which it sounds like he does.”

“Right,” I grit out.

“I called because your mother has decided to send another Keeper. Thankfully, I was able to influence her enough to ensure it’s someone you like. Perhaps you remember Arkan from your time at the academy?”

A mixture of panic and relief washes over me in confusing waves. I knew this day was coming the moment I learned that Wesley wasn’t in the portal we captured. Of all the Keepers Evenia could send, Arkan was in my top five.

“He’s mated now,” Betmal continues. “His wife is a black witch, incidentally.”

“How very coincidental.” This is my father through and through, shoving and moving people across his chess board. He does it to Abemet and Evenia, and I’m sure they know. Of my three parents, Betmal is the most soft-spoken but the most powerful.

“Such a happy coincidence,” he says cheerfully. “In fact, they arrived a while ago. Richard should be delivering them to the castle shortly.”

“Father,” I grumble.

“Oh, goodness,” he continues in a cheerful tone. “Your mother is calling me. Got to go!” He clicks off without another word.

On cue, a noise reaches me from the road out front. I twitch an ear to hear it better.

A diesel truck. That’ll be Richard with Arkan and his wife, I presume.

I’m almost thankful for this turn of events because it’ll give me something to focus on other than Morgan and how furious she is with me.

Striding toward the front, I sense a nervous energy. I spin around; it’s almost like someone’s behind me, that niggling sensation along the back of my neck. When there’s nobody there, I glance around at the castle. “What’s wrong?”

I lift my comm watch, but no alarm pings. No hologram messages display above the band. Everything seems to be okay.

Suddenly, a nail pops out of the wall and whizzes toward me. I duck, throwing myself against the wall with a hiss.

Another nail zooms through the air. I step aside, and it embeds in the wallpaper beside my head.

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