Page 6 of Hooked on a Witch
He cocked his head. “You’ve changed. You’re different. Tougher.”
“A lot’s happened in ten years.”
“I heard you went into journalism.”
“I’m not a journalist. I do camera work on a contract basis. Mostly TV stuff.”
“Isn’t the camera heavy to haul around?”
“Sometimes. The newer ones are lighter. You don’t think I can haul the old ones because I’m a girl?” She encountered this mentality all the time.
“I didn’t say that. I was just wondering. Are you visiting down here alone?”
“No.” She didn’t want to admit yes. Well, other than the well-armed, ex-MI6, druid bodyguard assigned to protect her. Eli was probably having a coronary at her house right now over her missing. She’d be lucky if he didn’t call in every druid in the U.S. and Canada to put her on guarded lockdown until her death.
“You have a husband…maybe a posse of kids waiting for you at home?”
She shook her head. “You?” Her gaze darted to his left hand, but she couldn’t see his ring finger.
“Nah. Your mother, how is she?”
“Dead.” Her mother’s parting words had sent her to this hot, humid, mosquito-infested coastal town where she’d supposedly find “help.” She needed help for the pile of cow shit she’d landed in.
“Sorry to hear that.” His words weighed heavily, as if he knew everything her mother’s death meant—the instant promo to head witch in her line and a destiny to lead the other six Pleiades witches. All of it unwanted. He couldn’t know all that, though. The information was a guarded secret amongst the Pleiades and their druid protectors, a secret all of them would die—manyhaddied—to protect.
“Your brothers? I heard Tom got married.”
“Both of my brothers were killed last year.” They’d been defending her mom from witch hunters. God, she missed all of them.
“Damn.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry. They were good people.”
“Dad is still with us, but since Mom and my brothers are gone, he’s not the same.” She cleared her throat against the sudden tightness. “Last I heard you’d moved away. What’re you doing here?”
“I moved back not too long ago.”
“Is this where you live?” She gazed at the relics on the tables representing a mishmash of eras. Magical energy came from the items. They weren’t random artifacts but a hodgepodge of mystical items. None of them invited touching.
“This is work.” He crossed his arms.
His work involved mystical items. Damn it, hewasafter her for the same reason as all the other magical weirdoes she’d encountered in the past few weeks. She palmed the glass shard, still ready should he attack. “What exactly do you do?”
“I find people.”
“Like a private investigator? Or are you a bounty hunter?”
“Something like that.” He watched her while moving slowly forward. Six-foot-something of unpredictable, supernatural power, who might be a bounty hunter, intimidated her. Her head carried a pretty high price these days.
She stepped backward. Her legs caught on the edge of the bench and she ended in an awkward sit. The glass piece flew out of her hand.
“You’ve been here four days, Shannon. Is this a vacation for you, or are you down here for another reason?” His tone encouraged her to talk. Maybe it was a well-practiced skill, or he had persuasive powers.
“Have you been spying on me across the property line?” He was so close now that she picked up his subtle scent. Something clean, like aftershave or deodorant mixed with male.
“I noticed activity next door and figured you were back in town.”
“Why would it matter to you why I’m down here? It’s our family property. We visit a few times a year.”
For an instant, his face scrunched up as if he was irritated. Then his expression smoothed over. He extended his hand to her. “Let’s get you home.”
