Page 7 of A Witch-ish Guide to Protectors and Pendulums

“Your idea of nice differs from mine.”

“Listen, it goes against my nature to let you go. It’s not like I want this connection. What are you, anyway? I’ve never met a creature like you before. And I’ve met every level of creature, or so I thought.”

“Rude much? What are you?”

“I’m a hound.”

“So you’re a dog.”

“Ahound.”

“Is there really a difference?” I asked. This close, his eyes gleamed like shiny, black coal rocks, even in the dark. His skin looked soft. He had these plump lips that I wanted to—no. Bad Simone. We did not want that thing you were just thinking. A thing so wrong, I couldn’t even say it in my own head.

He laughed salaciously. “Trust me, sweetheart, there’s a difference.”

Connor let his guard down enough for me to push up into a seated position. “Oh, this is one of those ‘I have a bigger penis’ things, right? Hounds are hung?”

“As a matter of fact, we are.”

“Well, good for you.” Unsure of what else to do, I lightly patted his shoulder. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to know what’s in there—” I pointed to the open door to the mausoleum.

He narrowed his eyes on me. “What do you mean,what’s in there?”

“You seem to understand English,so…I’m not sure how to answer that.”

“You really don’t know?” he asked, to which I shook my head in answer.

“Hence me asking.”

“Hades,” he said.

I pressed the back of my hand to his forehead to check if he was feverish. “Are you feeling okay?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You reallydon’t know.” This was said as a statement. “So your parents never…” He let the thought trail off.

“I’m afraid not. They died when I was a baby. I didn’t know anything about this stuff until I hit puberty and got more than my period.” I laughed uncomfortably. “Why couldn’t the detective see you?”

“Only supers can see me in hound form. And ghosts and spirits.”

“Supers?”

“Supernaturals. Magic holders. Since you’re not having a nervous breakdown, I assume you know about magic holders.”

I nodded. “Yes. When I was twelve, I ran into my first witch. She told fortunes at a festival.”

“They do work the circuit,” he answered dryly.

“Of course, I thought it was all a bunch of hooey until she revealed she knew aboutmymagic. That got my attention and it marked the first time someone asked, ‘What are you?’”

“And you have no idea?”

“None. I’m clearly not a witch. I only get my magic at the full moon.”

He cocked his head. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Not even Lycans are constrained by the full moon.”

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