Page 15 of The Royal Street Witch
I wait for more, but he just stares at me with those eyes. Lifting a hand slowly, he places his index finger on my hand, pushing it and the pen out of my mouth.
“Please? It’s most distracting.” A vein in his throat pulses and I look down, wetting my bottom lip with my tongue, and he swallows.
“Who turned you?”
Clearing his throat, he makes a face like it hurts to speak. Why do the personal questions make him so uncomfortable?
“Nicola. We met at a bar and she turned me and that’s all there is to that.” Clearing his throat yet again, he adjusts his legs.
“You don’t like talking about this, do you?”
“Nope. Next question.”
“She just said, ‘Hey, wanna be a vampire with me?’”
Those eyes are intensely on my mouth and then he inhales deeply.
“It was a life I wanted and one she wanted to give me. It was a simple decision for me.” And he gives me a look, begging me to drop the subject.
I lean back, intrigued but resigned to let him off the hook. “Okay, I think this is enough for now. I’ll let you know if I need more. You’re dismissed.” I stand up and he stands with me.
“Dismissed?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m the guinea pig, remember?” He points to his chest with both thumbs and it’s cute.
“I haven’t started working on the potion yet.”
“That’s fine. I’ll just hang. You don’t know when you might need me.”
“It won’t be tonight.”
“Awww, come on. Let me stay. I cleared my calendar for the evening.” His feet slide in my direction, and as he approaches me his face tenses, his words dripping slow like honey. “I won’t be in your way. I just want to be a part of it.” Hypnotic, that’s what he is, and he knows it. And I allow it because maybe I’ll have more questions, and having him here will make it easier to get them answered.
“If you’re going to be here, no talking. Unless I talk to you first. Okay? You can sit…there.” I point to my black velvet chair that’s out of the way, and he lets out a triumphant sigh. I walk up to the ottoman and push it against the chair and show it off like Vanna White sans a smile on my face.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Plopping down with a groan, his long legs stretch across the ottoman.
“The witch at Caged with you last night? She’s your cousin?” He pulls his phone out and sets it on his lap.
“Chantal is a coven cousin. A descendent of our founding members. She’s a witch, but not a Wildes.”
“And you’re a Wildes, the descendant of the head witch of your coven?”
“Yes. Chantal is a Howe. I don’t know what a sister’s love is like, but I suspect it’s close to how I love Chantal.”
“She hates me. You don’t see many real witches in Nola much these days. You two are quite a pair.”
“You’re our story’s villain. And I’m betraying her.” I run my finger around Winnie’s edges, guilt an overwhelming ball in my throat.
With darkened eyes, Bastian takes a long breath out, his thumb running along his fingertips, his chin almost touching his chest. I make a vow not to reveal anything else to him tonight, hating how words seem to tumble out when he’s around me.
“All right, no talking. You’re not supposed to watch a witch’s spell work.” I walk to the long oak table I use for potions, perfectly separating my living room from the kitchen. I open Winnie, hoping I can actually concentrate with him in the corner of the room.
“I won’t even look. I just want to be the tester. Just be on hand if you need me. Oh, hey.” His voice changes to syrup, and my eyes move to him.
Mercury, that damn traitor, has jumped in his lap, and his fingers are stroking my baby’s back.
