Page 22 of Enspelled

I could have gone to Sera for help, but she’s done—isdoing—far too much for me already.

If Layla had caught her stealing her grimoire, I don’t even want to imagine what she’d have done to Sera. And it would have been my fault.

So this is something I have to figure out myself.

And then there’s Keane.

What if he decides he wants nothing to do with a newly turned wolf who humped his leg in a parking lot?

“Goddess, even just thinking it would make me run, if I were him,” I whisper.

Another cupboard door slams, and then there’s silence.

Guess he’s finished making dinner.

My stomach rumbles louder at the thought of food. The first piece of jerky was good. The third piece was better. But whatever Keane has cooked smells too good to ignore any longer.

I get to my feet, leaving the photo of Aunt Mel on the bed. But before I cross over to the door, I pause in front of my mirror. The red puffy eyes are impossible to hide, but since there’s nothing I can do about that, I run my hand through my still-drying hair, wincing when my fingers snag on a tangle.

The hot pink sweater seems far brighter than usual, even though it’s a color I’ve had years to get used to. Right now, I’d like nothing more than to wear all black like Keane instead of this ridiculously childish all-pink outfit I’ve always hated.

“No, you didn’t hate it, because Aunt Mel cared enough to buy it for you,” I tell my reflection. “But now she’s gone. Everyone is gone.”

My eyes burn, but I force myself to stiffen my back.

Enough of the pity party, Briar.

Iwillget rid of this crazy power and not blow anyone up, and Iwillget rid of this shifting ability too. And once I prove that I didn’t blow up Calla’s Cauldron or the tearoom, everything will go back to the way it was before.

Turning on my heel, I leave my room and head down the stairs.

Sure, you won’t have a job, or any family, but you’ll be alive and—

I halt in the kitchen doorway, my eyes locked on the elegantly made-up blonde woman in an expensive-looking cream chiffon wrap dress, sitting at a table set for two. Scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausage fill two white dinner plates, but I’m only distantly aware of the food.

“Briar, sit. I was hoping we could talk,” she murmurs in a throaty purr.

I take one look at the cool smile stretching across Georgia Calla’s lips, and I know I’m not going to be leaving this room alive.

Diana’s older sister, and a former member of the Madden Grove elemental coven before she left to join one in New York, would have felt the exact moment Diana died. Somehow that nugget of information passed me by.

But since I’ve been a wolf, and otherwise distracted for the most part of today, I refuse to beat myself up too much about overlooking something I should have known long before now.

With New York less than a three-hour drive away, Georgia must’ve jumped into her car and headed straight here. Five minutes in town, with all the gossiping everyone in Madden Grove just lives to spread around, would have told her exactly who they blamed for it.

Me.

I edge back a step.

Her eyes narrow, and her pink lips thin a touch. “Sit. Now.”

There’s no ‘or else’ because a witch as powerful as Georgia doesn’t need to bother with threats. If she’d wanted to be the coven leader, the role was hers, but she wanted something bigger. Something better. And presumably, that included a nicer wardrobe as well. It looks like she got it.

I clear my throat. “I’m not hungry.”

“I didn’t ask you if you were hungry.” Georgia tucks one of Aunt Mel’s fancy napkins that she would only ever use for Christmas or Thanksgiving on her lap before reaching for a knife and fork.

I flinch. It makes no sense to react like that, since the thing that kills me won’t be something as ordinary as silverware. I will explode into flames the way Jonas did, and that will be that. Game over.

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