Page 20 of Secrets in Salem: Part One

His lips twitch, but he shakes his head and says, "It's no trouble."

Ah. A man of little words. Okay, then.

I nod awkwardly and twiddle my thumbs. Clearing my throat, feeling totally out of place, I blurt, "Well... thanks."

He nods in lieu of answering me verbally, then he looks away. I widen my eyes, whispering, "Okay, then."

Turning around and watching out for the car instead, I wait in uncomfortable silence, all too aware of the man behind me. The handsome man who seems incredibly standoffish. Did I say something? Was it me? Or is that just his attitude in general? If so, then that's a mighty fine shame. A pretty face wasted on an asshole. Ain’t that a punch in the tit?

My phone chimes with a text, saving me from the uncomfortable feeling of being in the presence of a man who quite clearly isn’t as friendly as the other. I slip it out of my purse and check my messages.

Afro Hipster: Remind me to never again go fishing with the man that had a part in creating me. We got caught in the storm, and I’m currently glaring at my dad while he drives us home since I blame him for the disaster that is my hair right now. Call me later. I’m going to give him a lecture about fishing and hair care. Later, dork.

Snorting, I type out a quick reply.

Basic Witch: I feel that. I look like a drowned cat because I got caught in it too! Go easy on your dad. I’m sure he didn’t realize how bad the frizz would be LOL. Talk to you later!

Putting my phone back away, I shake my head and smile. Not a moment later, a black car pulls up to the curb and the driver beeps. A window slides down, and Bishop calls, "Hop in, Willow."

I bend to pick up my bags, only to find Aleric holding them in one of his hands. When did he even pick them up? He strides over to the passenger side, opening the door and gesturing his head in its direction. I don't hesitate, quickly rushing to the car and into the seat. Aleric promptly shuts my door and climbs in the backseat, the crinkle of my bags rustling as he places them at his feet the only sound to be heard in the small space.

Bishop smiles down at me the moment I’m settled and asks, "So, where to?"

Chapter 11

Aleric

As soonas I shut the car door I'm assaulted with the scent of citrus and rainwater. It annoys me that it’s equally alluring and irritating, especially since I know that smell is coming from the woman sitting in my seat. It's sure as shit not Bishop smelling like one of my favorite things in this world. It’s even more annoying that the smell is so familiar. Enough to awaken the beast inside me.

Slouching in my seat, I sit back with a relaxed pose while I watch the back of Willow's head. It's more of a glare, one that I can't seem to wipe from my face since my default is apparently switched to ‘asshole.’ Why? Because I’m frustrated that our ward is a lot more beautiful when she isn't covered in blood and writhing in pain on the floor. I could see her beauty even then, but clear of dirt and grime? She’s fuckingstunning.

I couldn’t look away when she first dashed under the awning Bishop and I had been hiding beneath. With her long hair soaked and slicked back, it showed off every part of her face. From the ring that curved around full lips to piercing gray eyes that are a shade lighter than her father’s, I was left dumbfounded. That doesn’t happen often, so my irritation is warranted.

And then she had the audacity to go and smell good enough to eat, to remind me of something I don’t remember. My beast is pacing, snarling at me because I’m not falling at her feet, and that pisses me off more. That and because I'm sitting here thinking these things when we've been looking after her until she learns who and what she is. That she’s the daughter of a man who could slaughter me with barely a glance. There's nothingmoreirritating.

"So, where to?" Bishop asks, giving her a smile that has me narrowing my eyes on him. I mean, sure, I'm not the most friendly of the three of us, and I'm certainly the most annoyed at being made a sitter, but I've never seen my brother send a woman as many smiles as he has since Willow found herself standing under that overhang. It was a pure coincidence that we met there even though we were on our way to the library where we thought she would be. I just so happened to feel the pangs of hunger, my beast snarling for food, and decided to stop somewhere for a snack. Low and behold, the woman we were sent here for just so happened to land in front of us like she knew what we were up to and wanted to make our jobs easier.

"Uh, Maple Road. Do you know where that is?" she asks, her voice melodic and sweet. My glare only grows that much fiercer. I shouldn't enjoy a damn thing about this woman. We've been sent here as glorified keepers by the Devil himself to watch over his daughter, for fuck’s sake, but it’s like I can’t help myself. I can’t even drag my eyes away from the woman. I almost find the patch of dark hair I’m glaring atpretty. The fuck is that about?

The beginnings of a snarl vibrates in my chest, my beast pushing too close to the surface, so I cough and slouch in my seat with another deadly look at the woman that’s quickly made herself the bane of my existence. I know it’s not her fault, but fuck it. I’ve never been a good guy, so asshole mode will stay until the job is done and I’m not forced to look at the gorgeous woman anymore. Simple.

"I think so, yeah," Bishop answers, nodding while he looks out the front window. He knows where she lives because we’ve scouted it out already, but she can’t know that.

"It's the last house on the very end, on the cul-de-sac," she elaborates, completely unaware. I take note of the softest rasp in her voice when certain words roll off her tongue, the way she still sounds feminie and musical. Aaaand I'm more annoyed about it. My beast isn’t, the traitorous bastard.

Rolling my eyes at myself, I turn my head to watch the scenery fly by while listening in on the conversation.

"The bungalow? The one with the wonky roof?" my brother asks as if we didn't already know as much. We know pretty much all there is to know about Willow Devall. We know she lives with her mother, where she spends most of her time, and with who, what school she attended, and various other details that strangers shouldn't know. All part of the job.

Willow's laughter radiates through the whole car, filling the small space with the melodic tinkle. It's safe to say I'm a bigger fan of that noise than the agonized cries we were forced to witness before. I won’t dare tell my brothers, but I’ve already started having nightmares about that. Even my beast has been unsettled since, which is never a good thing.

My eyes slowly make their way back over to the woman, watching her like I can't help it. Her head is tilted back as she laughs before she turns to face Bishop, nodding with a smile so bright it rivals the sun. I'll be damned if it doesn't cause me to swallow harshly and look back out the window with a huff. Damn this woman to hell and back.

"Yeah, that would be the one," she replies. I canhearthe smile in her voice, and I have to suppress the weird urge to smile back. Not a chance in Hell that's happening. "It gives the house character."

"Can't argue with that. All the best houses have flaws," Bishop quickly responds, flashing a toothy grin in her direction. I'm pretty sure the damn girl swoons right there in her seat. My glare darts to my brother, boring into the side of his head with all the aggravation I can force into it. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to slap him so hard until this very moment. In fact, I might want to slap himtwicefor good measure, but that’s neither here nor there.

A little dazed, Willow responds. "Yeah, my thoughts exactly."

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