Page 30 of Bait N' Witch

While her tone didn’t exactly change, he could picture Delilah, with her catlike dark eyes and long ebony hair no doubt perfectly coifed, sitting forward in her seat. He’d gotten her attention with that, which meant she didn’t know.

“She didn’t throw them once she realized it was me. I take it by your reaction, you weren’t aware of this ability.”

“Well, someone should throw some energy at your stubborn head someday.” Now lazy amusement laced her voice.

Greyson frowned. Was she avoiding the question?

“Yes, I was aware of this ability,” Delilah continued, shutting down his suspicion.

“Then why not list it in the information? For that matter, why is she a nanny with a power like that?”

“Rowan can’t control the power. It’s a reflex that started when her parents were killed. She was in the car with them, as you know, since you read her bio. A defense mechanism, it rarely manifests. You must’ve scared her badly. What were you doing?”

Now Greyson didn’t want to answer the question.

“I frightened her when we bumped into each other in the middle of the night.”

“I see.”

Now why did he get the uneasy feeling she knew exactly what they’d been up to that night—not just the girls, but that explosive kiss?

“Well, I hope I’ve adequately addressed your questions. I’m surprised you didn’t just ask her.”

Greyson stood up straight, not enjoying the mild rebuke, not to mention the slither of guilt that he’d gone behind Rowan’s back with this. “I will next time.”

“Good. Though feel free to check with me any time.”

“Thanks.” After their goodbyes, Grey hung up and slowly tucked his phone back into his pocket. His conversation with Delilah made total logical sense, but something was still itching at him.

Stop being a hunter for a second, and just trust the woman.

First, though, a stop-off in Austin, Texas, to talk to a demigod and a nymph.

Chapter Eleven

Grey killed Kaios’s warlock because the guy had murdered his wife.

How she knew for sure that that’s who he’d been talking about—the warlock Kaios had used along with Rowan—she didn’t know. But it had been plain to her as he’d told the story.

Pain, for Grey, for his wife, for their sweet girls, had oozed through her like Mississippi mud, and Rowan had had to close her eyes against the hard look in his eyes.

But what does that mean for me?

The thought had been swirling around in her head since Grey had told her about it. Plaguing her. Making her question everything she believed. The Syndicate hadn’t sanctioned that execution. What if…

Except, Tanya believed they were dangerous. Believed they’d had Rowan’s parents killed. Had she been wrong?

A low murmur brought her attention back to where she was, and Rowan observed the girls’ lesson with their Aunt Persephone in total silence.

This was the first time she’d come along, because Greyson had to go into Denver for work on Monday and wouldn’t be able to take the girls. Since it was Friday, he’d wanted to introduce her to the girls’ aunt, his sister-in-law, ahead of time. Persephone lived “next door,” which meant in the Rocky Mountains, but on the other side of the divide. If they drove, the trip would take over an hour.

Hooray for teleporting.

A few glances snuck in Grey’s direction—granted, he had his laptop going the entire time—showed he found nothing amiss with the lesson. Was this really how most witches were schooled?

As soon as they had arrived at a cabin not unlike Greyson’s with dark brown log siding and natural stone accents, a woman had come out onto her front porch. Rowan pegged her age around thirty, tall and elegant, with dark hair pulled back in a perfect ponytail and wearing three-inch stilettos. In the mountains. In the snow.

Meanwhile, beside her Rowan suddenly felt like a dowdy frump with her red curls a wild halo about her face, and her jeans, black blouse, and black boots way too casual. After the burned lasagna and hiding incident, she hadn’t bothered to upgrade her wardrobe all that much, opting for blouses instead of T-shirts. Grey hadn’t said anything, but now she questioned her decision. Maybe she’d go shopping again on Sunday when she had her day off.

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