Page 89 of Howl You Doin?
Frank hates her, although they’ve both been a little funny on the details as to why. I’m just glad he’s gone, so I don’t have to deal with him while Whitley and I navigate all this—from our mating to her sudden shifting. I don’t know who hacked Talbot and I really don’t have enough energy to care, although it is concerning.
“It is going to be fine, Whitley. Connor just has a lot of explaining to do.”
I glare at the witch. “You haven’t even bloody said whatyou’reactually doing here, Odette.”
Everyone seems to want to meddle in my affairs, and she’s always been bad for it. She’s the whole reason I exist, so she’s a nosy pest.
“Oh, you should also be aware I have no way of knowing what will happen once your mate bond takes hold,” the witch says, ignoring me, her eyes swirling with magic as her fingers grip the seat of her chair tightly.
“Oh, great, more good news,” Whitley grumbles as she throws her hands up.
My body tenses with the need to comfort her, to do whatever is necessary to make sure she is safe. After having to hunt her down last night because of Lachlan, the fucker, now the Witch Queen decides to make an appearance. It’s all too much. I just want time to do it all my way and everyone keeps getting involved, like the annoying shits they are. Immortals are the worst—akin to a family that turns up at someone’s door without notice.
“Honestly, you should all be thanking me,” the witch says, with a flip of her hand. “If Griselda hadn’t wanted that love potion, it’s possible none of you would have found your mates.”
“What the bloody hell did you just say?” I ask, forcing myself to remain still on the couch.
“You know how these things happen. Griselda, my great-niece—you remember her—asked for a love potion. And don’t you recall how you asked for help, too, Connor O’Doyle?”
My brows come together. “I did not ask for anything. I haven’t seen you in at least a hundred years.” None of us have seen her in ages. There’s only one answer I can come up with for her suddenly showing up here. It makes me want to growl and go back beneath the castle and punch the shit out of a certain serpent jackass. “Did Lachlan tell you to come here?”
Whitley bounces her attention between us, looking at the both of us as if we’re mad.
Odette’s face twists into a pissed-off look. “Of course Lachlan invited me, which is exactly what you should have done the moment this happened. Do you remember what you wanted? Oh goddess, what year was that?” Odette huffs and snaps her fingers, and her favorite martini, one olive and a lemon twist, materializes in her hand.
“Holy shit,” Whitley whispers.
My lips twitch at the sight of Whitley’s awed, wide-eye smile. I remember how entranced I was by the little tricks Odette could do when I first met her, all in an effort to keep me focused through the pain.
“Remember the last time you visited, when you came to me about Vlad, asking if I could somehow snap him out of it?”
“Yes, and you told me it couldn’t be done.” I grew that desperate before the hotel idea took hold.
“Apparently I was wrong,” Odette says, placing her glass on the nearby Elizabethan sixteenth-century carved oak side table.
I jump to my feet to grab a coaster, gritting my teeth. Does no one else care how old and expensive everything in this castle is?
“Vlad has found a mate and they’re both doing fine,” I say as I pick up her glass and place down a wooden coaster beneath it.
Whitley perks up at this, and I wince just as I take my seat next to her.Shit. She glares at me, and I know she’s not going to let that tidbit of information go. I still haven’t divulged that Vlad is a vampire.
When I went to see Odette for assistance, he had just stopped eating, and I asked if there was some way to entice him back to the land of the living. This was a hundred years ago. I hold back a shudder, remembering the dark crypt Odette calls her home, and how dense the magic is there.
“I know,” Odette says. “A couple months ago, I was at an engagement party, and someone mentioned that finding a true mate should be easy.” Odette smiles as if she has a secret she doesn’t want to share.
“Well, it was never easy, that’s for sure,” I say, as I fold my arms over my chest and lean back against the couch.
“A potion came to mind that I knew how to make, and I sort of rattled off the list of ingredients.”
“And then what?”
“A month later, I see Vlad with a human on Instagram, of all things. So, Iassumedit worked.” She shrugs as if it’s no big deal, and I’m not the least bit surprised she’s a social media user, since she uses every means to spy on everyone. She’s always been with the times.
“You assumewhatworked?” I groan.
“The spell, obviously. Are you not paying attention?”
Whitley’s hands tighten into fists, and her gaze turns yellow in my peripheral vision.
