Page 51 of Wooing the Wiccan
Hope takes a stronger foothold on my shifting emotions. “So you think he wants to make up? Should I grovel?”
Ari looks a little ill at the thought. “The king of the elves doesn’t grovel. I’m not going to tell Eoin you said that.”
“You might have to grovel,” Brandt tells me, and Ari groans. “What? Trust me, Ari, when it comes to keeping their partners happy, leaders grovel. Groveling when you’ve done something wrong is a vital part of a healthy relationship.”
I point at my dragon friend. “What he said.”
“I don’t think he’ll make you grovel, anyway,” Ari insists. “I might not have spoken directly to him, but I spent enough time overhearing what he’s said to know him pretty well. Now that he’s accepted everything, he probably thinks it’s noble that you kept the secret from him.” He sounds like he’s not sure if that’s admirable or worthy of scorn.
“I can only hope.”
After a frenzyof cleaning spells and pillow plumping—because the throw pillows on the sofa wouldnotlook right no matter what I did—I look around my condo and wonder if Jared will like it.
“Are you done yet?” Eoin asks. He’s leaning against the doorframe to the butler’s suite, where he’s promised to stay while Jared’s here. Apparently my security team was all set to hold a thumb wrestling tournament to decide who got tonight’s duty, until I reminded them that it wasn’t the best time for Jared to meet anyone new. Which left Eoin as the only possible candidate. He wasn’t happy about it.
“I don’t know. Maybe?—”
The peal of the doorbell cuts me off. I told the doorman that I was expecting a guest and to send him right up, so Jared is literally standing only a few yards away right now. I should have told the doorman to buzz when he was on his way up and given myself some warning.
“Are you going to get that, or leave hi?—”
I’m at the door before Eoin can finish. One deep breath, and I open it.
Jared’s face is just as beautiful now as it was two weeks ago—maybe more, since it’s not angry or disgusted. His tentative expression echoes how I feel.
“Hi,” I manage. “Um. It’s good to see you.”
His lips curve slightly in a tiny smile. “Yeah. You look… good. Um. I mean?—”
“You look good too. Really good.”
We stare at each other some more.
“As scintillating as this conversation is, I can’t disappear until Raðulfr is inside the wards with the door closed, so could you maybe make that happen?”
I close my eyes. Eoin’s timing leaves much to be desired.
To my surprise, when I peek at Jared’s face, he’s smiling. He catches my gaze and rolls his eyes, then gestures for me to step back. “Come on. Invite me in so we can ditch him.”
Hope roars to life more strongly than I’ve felt in weeks. That definitely doesn’t sound like he’s planning to end things face-to-face.
I move out of the doorway. “Please come in and be welcome.” The words are a trigger for the wards that he’s an invited guest, and they take his measure as he crosses the threshold—with a slight shiver.
“Whoa. What— Was that your wards? The ones at CSG don’t feel like that.” He turns back to study the doorway, squinting. “Hey, I canseethese… kind of.”
I close the door, which seals the wards and “locks” the condo much more thoroughly than any mechanical lock could. “The ones at CSG were woven by sorcerers,” I explain. “I cast these myself.” I hesitate. “Has anyone explained the difference between what sorcerers and elves do—and humans?”
He shrugs, his gaze now flitting around the spacious living room. “A little. I know that sorcerers draw their power from within themselves, and humans borrow from existential magic. That’s why I can’t really see sorcerer weaves the way I see human magic.”
“What elves do is a combination of the two. We draw from withinandborrow from existence.” I haven’t moved away from the door yet.
Jared turns to look at me. “Is that why I could see parts of your spellwork, but not all?”
“Yes. I lied about that too, all those times I implied that my experience somehow made the craft harder to see.”
He sighs, and toes out of his shoes, bending to line them up neatly against the wall. “Yeah, you did. But it’s not like you could have said, ‘You can’t see my whole spell because I’m an elf and use different magic.’”
The words, though not combative, drop between us like boulders from a trebuchet.
