Page 11 of Which Witch is Willing?
“Can we go down them?” Tierra asked, her feet itching to rush down the steps.
“Damn skippy,” Moira said. “I've always wanted to go to France. It's the Creole motherland, after all. And just think. If we travel by magic staircase, I wouldn't have to get groped by those ham-handed TSA Agents who always seem to be lookin' for explosives in the general area of my tits.”
“I’m not going down there,” Aerin said, backing up a few steps.
“Turns out she’s a mite claustrophobic,” Moira added.
Claire sidled closer to Dru. “I’d rather stay here, too. I’m not a fan of dark, dank places.” Especially now that she’d been held captive in the old cement Army batteries at Fort Worden.
“I suggest we split up,” Killian said. “Tierra and I will go with Julian and Moira.”
“How about hell fucking no,” Nick said. “If anyoneis going anywherewith Moira, it's me.”
“I’ll go where I damn well please. You’ve got no claim to me.”
“The hell I don’t.”
“It’s best you give me some space, or you’ll find yourself twenty leagues under the sea, buddy.”
“Enough,” Dru barked, wrapping an arm around Claire’s shoulders. “Moira isn’t the only one who can use a break from bickering. Claire and I will stay along with Nick and Aerin and we’ll go through the sanctuary while you four see what you can find in the Châteaux’s extensive library.”
“Do I need to pack a bag?” Tierra asked. What did one wear in France?
“No, the Châteaux is equipped with whatever you might need, and if it isn’t, all you have to do is climb the stairs back here.” Killian took her hand, and in her excitement, she squeezed it before she remembered she was still upset with him.
Killian stepped inside the trunk and helped Tierra down. “Don’t let go of me. The stairs are steep and I won’t have you tumble.”
Julian followed them inside and held out gloved hand for Moira. “My lady.”
“She is not your lady and you’d better keep your diseased hands off her,” Nick growled.
Moira took Julian’s hand and climbed in behind him. “Stuff it, Conquest, and play nice with my sisters unless you want your right hand to end up callused as your manners.”
The sound of Nick’s swearing followed them as they descended the rough stone stairs.
7
“This is a colossal waste of time,” Tierra said, arching her back to help relieve the biting ache.
“We might not have found anything new regardin’ the Apocalypse, but get this shit. Mermaids arerealand so are unicorns. Atlantis actually exists. That is my next vacation spot. Have y'all been there?” Moira asked Julian and Killian.
“Indeed,” Julian said not looking up from the large leather book in front of him. He sat in a brocade chair adjacent to a long, scarred walnut table, tomes stacked in towers on either side of him. “It’s overrated, and any chance of you vacationing there will be moot if you don’t advance to the next book.” He pointed at the huge pile they'd amassed after going through the catalog on his computer.
Julian was an odd mix of the past and future. He was timeless, really. It had shocked Tierra that Julian had entered all the information of over thousands of books, along with pertinent subject matters, and his comments into a computer. It sure made their search faster, though they’d come up empty so far.
Tierra awkwardly got to her feet and stretched, and rubbed her lower back. She was feeling the pregnancy weight after days spent bent over and rifling through dusty manuscripts.
“You need a break,” Killian said, standing and stalking toward her.
“No, I don’t. I’m just stiff from sitting so much.”
Moira glanced up from her cross-legged perch in the leather high-back chair. “Cool your heels, Tierra. Julian and I will keep at it. We’re bound to find something useful soon.”
“Agreed,” Julian said. “Some vittles and more coffee would be helpful after you’ve had a lie down.”
“I don’t need alie down,” Tierra said. Just because she was pregnant didn’t mean she had a handicap.
“You need to take better care of yourself,” Killian growled. “You’re with child.”
