Page 45 of Love's a Witch
“Stay there.” Knox raised a hand, and the doors of the library slammed shut behind me, even as I heard a plaintive moo from Haggis, who had clearly barreled closer at my shout. Even in chaos, Knox protected those he loved. I gasped as the flames raced up the velvet, the smoke ribboning across the ceiling, while Knox muttered a slew of words and threw his hands out toward the curtains. The windows blasted open, taking the smoke with them, and the flames winked out on the fabric.
Leaving a smoldering, ashy mess in their wake.
Shame filled me, and I pressed my hands to my mouth, horrified.
As cold showers went, it was a nasty one.
And an excellent reminder why the likes of Knox and I could never be.
“Knox, I am so, so, so sorry.” I held my hands up, pleading with him to understand how bad I felt about this misstep. I should have known better than to let myself get carried away with my moods. I was a new witch, and I knew well enough that erratic emotions could cause unexpected magickal spikes.
“This was you?” Knox turned to me, his head tilted, a contemplative look in his eyes. A small tic, just above his jaw, revealed his restraint.
“Not on purpose, I promise you.” I wrung my hands. “It’s just that… um, I’m not sure how to say this… but it seems my magick might be a bit unpredictable.”
Knox’s eyes widened as he swung his head toward the decimated curtains and back to me.
“I thought your magick was levitation.”
“So did I?” I stepped backward, moving closer to the door and my way out.
“And what’s changed?”
“Turns out today it is fire.”
“And tomorrow?”
“Um, undetermined.” Goddess, I hated admitting that. The idea that I had zero control over my future, along with the obvious inability to take charge of my magick, made me grind my teeth.
The doors flung open at my back, and Henry charged in, along with Haggis and Oswald at his side.
“Sir!”
“Everything is fine, Henry. Tell Mother to order new curtains for the library.” Knox paused as the cat swiped at his leg. “And make sure she knows that it wasn’t Oswald this time.”
“Aye, sir.” Henry bowed out, and Haggis bumped his nose against my leg while Oswald leapt to a bookshelf near me and prowled the length of books.
“I’ll just be seeing myself out. Truly, I’m sorry for… all that.” I waved a hand at the mess of the curtains and turned.
A book thumped at my feet.
Jumping back, I looked at where Oswald cleaned a paw on the shelf by my head.
“He wants you to have it.”
“Excuse me?” I glanced over my shoulder at Knox and then at the cat. “Can you speak to him?”
“Both of them. They’re my familiars.”
“No way,” I breathed, distress momentarily forgotten. Would I be able to speak to Blue, then? The thought was enough to bring some cheer to ease my embarrassment.
“Aye, witchling. And entirely too chatty, if I’m being honest.” Knox gestured to the book, and I bent to pick it up, pausing to give Haggis a good ear scratch on the way.
The book warmed under my hand when I touched it, as though it came alive, and I paused.
The cover was a deep cerulean blue, and when I tilted the book, it glimmered, like the dance of moonlight on the sea.
This was meant for me.
