Page 80 of Elora and the Crow

“That was very cool,” he said.

She grinned and did a mock curtsy. “Thank you.”

“Why were you putting a ripped dress back together?” he asked.

“It’s for a client. Her roommate found out she was going to a party next weekend with the guy the roommate has been crushing on and, in a fit of jealousy, hacked up her dress with a pair of scissors.”

“Seriously?” Jonah asked.

Elora nodded. “Yeah, they’re barely out of their teens and pretty dramatic. They fight constantly, and I’ve repaired plenty of their stuff over the last year.”

“Wait, is this the same girl who showed up at your apartment that time losing her absolute shit because,” Jonah affected a Valley girl accent, “that bitch Courtney totally, like, broke the strap of my Louboutins with her giant horse feet?”

Elora burst into laughter. “Yep, that’s Jinhee. I make a lot of money doing mending spells for Jinhee and her frenemy Courtney.”

He grinned at her before returning to the journal he was looking at. After their talk yesterday, he’d brought out the journal from his bedroom safe this morning. He’d joined her in the front room to read through it while she worked on spells. She thought she might find him a distraction, she usually preferred to do her spell work without others around, but instead, she found his quiet presence soothing.

He reached for his coffee, sipping at it as he studied the journal. The cold sunlight coming through the window made his dark hair gleam, and when he smiled faintly at something he’d read, Elora felt a wave of love for him that nearly staggered her on her feet.

Christ, she’d really done it now. She was in love with Jonah and headed on a path of pure heartbreak. She gripped her makeshift altar as panic rolled through her. Why the fuck did she fall in love with him? She, better than anyone, knew the dangers of loving someone like Jonah. He would never love her back and -

“Little witch, are you okay?” Jonah’s low voice broke through her panic.

“Yes, why?”

He pointed to her hands. “You’re gripping that table so hard, I’m pretty sure you’ll break it in half soon.”

She relaxed her grip, forcing herself to smile at him. “I’m good. Hey, do you mind if I do a cleansing of the room?”

Jonah studied her for a few seconds more before saying, “Go ahead. Mi casa e su casa.”

Her smile slipped a little, but she quickly turned away to grab her sandalwood incense. She wished this was her home. Wished she could live here with Jonah forever and pretend he loved her like she loved him. But that was a dream, a sad, stupid dream that she needed to forget. In fact, she would be packing up her stuff tomorrow and returning to her apartment, which she had always loved but now felt too empty.

She took a deep breath and tried to center herself. She was full of negative energy, and it was wearing her down. When she returned to her apartment tomorrow, she would meditate and do a lavender cleanse to rid herself of the negative energy and help calm her.

Jonah’s arms slid around her waist, and he kissed the back of her neck. “After you cleanse the room, come up to the bedroom.”

He cupped her breast gently before trailing kisses along her throat. “Unless you’re too sore?”

She was a little sore, but that wouldn’t stop her from banging Jonah’s brains out. Not when fucking him was as deliciously addictive to her as her magic.

She turned her head and kissed him. “Not too sore. I’ll be up soon.”

He kissed her again before leaving the room. She opened some windows and lit her incense, letting it flame for about ten seconds before blowing it out. Holding the stick, she walked in a clockwise direction around the room, the smoke drifting into the air.

“With this flame, I invite peace, strength, and harmony to wash through this space. Let any tensions be unraveled, let jagged edges be smoothed, let what is stagnant be swept out,” she said in a soft voice.

She repeated the intention as she walked the room, the familiar ritual helping to calm her. She extinguished the incense and set it in a ceramic bowl on the altar before closing the windows.

Before she could go upstairs, Jonah returned to the living room, his face pale and grim.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Caleb just texted me. He’s on his way over to pick up the rest of his stuff.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “He doesn’t want me in the house, and if I try to talk to him, he’ll leave with or without his things.”

She rushed over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m sorry, Jonah.”

He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I want to sit him down and force him to talk to me, but if I do that…”

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