Page 67 of Waltzing With Witches

She clasps her hands in front of her chest again. “I’m happy to talk about it, but the look on your face tells me you might be skeptical of that, which is one-hundred-percent understandable. So, let’s switch gears. Want to talk about your magic? Black magic is handy for so very many things.”

For the next half hour, she gives me a primer on all four colors of magic. I know most of the white and green details because of Catherine’s help teaching Wren and Thea. But my black magic has always been fickle, and I’ve never even heard of blue magic.

“Blue magic is a battle magic,” Hana says confidently. “The rarest of the types and normally reveals itself under extreme duress. You’ll likely never meet a blue magic witch your entire life. I’ve never met one.”

“Sheesh,” I huff. “I thought the black magic was wild enough.”

“Oh, it is.” She laughs. “A little birdie told me you already healed the wards with yours.”

“A little birdie, huh?” I give her the side-eye.

She chuckles. “Okay, it was Abe.”

I jolt in place. “Wait! You called him Abe! You know his real name?”

Black lips split into a friendly smile. “I would only call him that when you and I are alone. Sort of a Keepers’ mates thing we all do. Otherwise, it gets really hard to figure out who in the hells we’re all talking about when we get together.”

She called me the Keeper’s mate.

Hana claps me on the shoulder. “There are a group of us who get together once a month to play poker. Are you familiar with that game?”

I pat the back of her hand. “Yes, dear. We have an entire town dedicated to that game. It’s called Las Vegas.”

Her laugh is positively infectious. “Sorry! I know very little about the human world. Poker has been around in the monster world for thousands of years.” Her smile softens. “I’d love for you to come with me sometime, if you’d like to.”

“I’d love that,” I whisper. More sisterhood? More women friends? I crave it.

My comm watch pings, and the Keeper’s name hovers just above it. I clench my thighs together as a wash of heat spreads through my tummy.

Hana gives me an understanding look and waves goodbye, clip-clopping out the door toward the front.

I answer quickly. “Hey.”

Abe’s deep voice echoes out of the watch. “Morgan. I’ve finished my tasks for the morning. Are you ready?”

Am I ready?

God, I want to tease him.

“Ready for what?”

He clears his throat. “You mentioned having a particular schedule in mind for today.”

I choke back a laugh. “Not a dirty talker, Abe?”

After a moment of silence, a deep, needy-sounding growl comes through the watch. “Shall I pick you up at Town Hall?”

An idea has been brewing in my mind all morning.

“Nah. Meet me at Higher Grounds in fifteen.”

Per usual, he clicks off without a goodbye or anything. I’ve really got to get him out of that habit. I don’t know if he realizes how utterly dismissive it feels.

Placing a hand on the auditorium door, I thrum my fingers against the beautiful amber wood. “Be back soon, okay? I’ve got big plans for you, girl.”

The door vibrates under my palm. She’s happy. And I fucking love that. I turn to look around the room. Every surface sparkles, every chair’s in the right place. The stage looks fresh and clean, the speaker’s podium gleaming in midday sunlight that streams through now-clean windows.

“Lookin’ good.” I let out an appreciative whistle, and the doors flip flop open and closed in thanks.

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