Page 24 of Wicked Love
“So why’d you pick yourself?”
“Well, in truth, I was tired of being in there alone. And whatever problems you were having, I could help you.”
“You were so sure?” I asked.
“Haven’t I?” she replied.
“Yes, you have,” I admitted.
“Good. Now go back to sleep.”
“Who was the man?”
“He wasn’t part of our coven. He was something… more,” she said.
“What does that mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. Something more.”
“Thank Goddess tomorrow is Saturday.” I changed the subject, realizing she wasn’t going to say anything more about the man.
“What does that mean?” Zelda asked.
“It means I don’t have to get up. So don’t go yelling unless it’s an emergency.”
This time, when I closed my eyes, I didn’t dream. Or at least, I didn’t dream of the crypt. The darkness took me and I remembered no more.
Chapter Eight
Jasper
Imade my way home, sniffing audibly. I couldn’t smell myself. Which was something I never thought I’d have to think. But I’d smelled Lavinia after I cast a spell on her, and she was ripe.
Which meant that I was too.
How in the fuck did you get off magical skunk stink? I had no idea.
When I got home, I stripped off my clothes, bagging them in a trash bag and tossing it out on my back porch, tightly tied.
Then I got into the shower. As the hot water hit my back, I felt the sting of small scratches. From Melasina. The thought made me smile.
I climbed into bed and tried to sleep. When I woke the next morning, it felt like a dump truck had come and parked on me. I was sore and tired, and I felt like ass.
I went to the shower again, determined to scrub the stench off me. I almost used magic again before I caught myself. Last night, I’d been thinking about Talia. Today, I thought about Melasina.
She was the one good thing that had come out of last night. Although how was I going to tell anyone about her? A chill rolled through me, even as I stood in the nearly scalding shower. I knew what people thought of her, of her family. We hadn’t made the grave disturbances public, and with the bodies back, there was no need to. But Melasina was still a Cormier.
And I hated to be the focus of any attention, good or bad. Especially not bad.
All my life, I’d been the good kid. The one who studied, who did all the work asked of me. I volunteered around Magnolia House, and then got an apprenticeship at the library when I was seventeen. I’d already been working and living at the library for almost two years. That was because of Talia Dumond, who had been the Head Librarian.
She’d found me, trained me, and helped me to find my place within the coven.
Unlike Melasina, who had an old, if somewhat tarnished family name, my parents were what was politely termed tacky. My mother was the witch, and she’d never stopped being a witch, although when she married my dad, she kept it under wraps. But she used magic to clean the house, and make dinner, and later, to make her drinks.
It was what had killed her. Oh, alcoholism was the listed cause of death, but I saw how she made her drinks. She’d gotten drunk, used her magic to make another one, and made it too strong. She’d taken pills. And that had been it.
My father had left long before that. He never did know she was a witch, but he knew something was off. Not quite right. Well, for his world. Not for ours. The world of the covens.
