Page 14 of Bait N' Witch

The gathered force left her body with the words. Not traditional words of magic, but words the woman who’d raised her had spoken. Ancient words. Powerful words.

The language of demons and angels.

The spell was essentially a search for any files about Kaios, the werewolf who’d trapped her and used her. Enslaved her, more like.

Greyson was sure to have Kaios’s name associated with her in the files, as the reason he hunted her was inextricably linked to the werewolf. If Greyson knew the name of the witch involved—her own name—she wouldn’t be his nanny right now. In an instant she had the files laid open before her on the screen.

Rowan stilled at the image of the werewolf who’d compelled her to do terrible things. Quickly she clicked for the next image and blanched. The pricklies hit her neck hard, chasing themselves down her back.

The woman from her memories. The one who’d been there any time Kaios hadn’t been around, had taunted Rowan with what they’d do with her. As though she’d been thrilled a witch was under this kind of control.

Rowan racked hazy memories of her time with him, when her mind hadn’t entirely been her own, of the fight when he’d been killed. Had the woman been there?

She couldn’t remember.

But he’d brought all his followers to that fight. No doubt the woman was in chains or dead.

With a physical shimmy, Rowan shook off the memories. Kaios and his people weren’t a threat to her anymore. What she needed to focus on was Greyson Masters and the Covens Syndicate.

She read with hungry eyes, searching for any opportunities to plant false clues. The good news was he didn’t have much.

“So you already tried to follow my magical trail,” she murmured.

He’d had no luck with it. Magic use left a trail of energy that a powerful mage like Greyson could track, depending on how long ago the spells had been cast. According to the files, any magical trail she’d left had disappeared in the woods just outside where the fight had occurred. Spent and scared, she’d had nothing to do with hiding it, which probably meant Delilah had taken care of it.

I’ll have to thank her next time I talk to her.

Greyson couldn’t scry for her until he had more information or a personal item. The more she read, the more weight the elephant that had been sitting on her chest seemed to lose. Greyson had nothing on her.

Fabulous. Now to keep it that way.

The satisfied smile curling her lips froze as she hit his last entry of notes.

Hell and hexation. He’d been in touch with Lyleia Nyaid and was arranging to meet the nymph along with her demigod husband and the two wolf shifter alphas involved in the fight soon—this week. It looked as if he was waiting on Lyleia to call and arrange the logistics.

If she could get near his cell phone before that call came through, she could slow things down, at least.

A ripple of energy fluttered across her arms, like a warm spring breeze caressing her skin—her only warning Greyson had returned home. Damn, that was fast. What happened to that errand?

Thankful she’d set up a spell to advise her of his presence, Rowan quickly closed the files, replaced the wards on the computer, and shut it down.

Then she jumped up and grabbed the duster, removing her incantation on it with a whispered word. Just in time, the sparks of magic faded, before the click of the door had her turning, arm raised as though she’d been cleaning all along.

Greyson froze when he spotted her there, a scowl replacing his taken-aback expression. “What are you doing in here?”

He’d been checking the screen of his cell phone when he walked in. Now, as he waited for her answer, he slipped it into the pocket of his black trousers.

Rowan swished the duster. “Cleaning.”

When he showed no sign of either moving or talking again, she shifted on her feet. “I was trying to finish before you needed the office. I can come back later.”

She went to scoot past where he still stood in the doorway, slowing as she neared, pretending to lower her eyes in subordination, but fixated on the cell phone in his pocket. Focusing her energy once again, she directed all her intent to the device. She’d have to limit the words to her mind, reducing the efficacy of the spell, but it would have to do.

Awatum Suqammumu Balum, Halqu Ina. Translation…words silent without, lost within.

A paper on his desk rustled as the magic left her body. Thankfully, the evidence could be attributed to her walking by. She hoped the magic worked as intended, silencing the device when calls came in and losing the voicemail if any were left. The language she used was Sumerian, created before things like cell phones, ringtones, and voicemail existed, making the terminology she chose a challenge. Dealing with technology in the magic she’d been taught was always tricky.

Her spell cast in the few steps it took to approach Greyson, she continued on her path past him, only to jerk to a stop as he grabbed her wrist.

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