Page 30 of Enspelled

“Thanks. I don’t think it is. I mean, if it were a transformation spell, as she seems to think, surely I’d have some control of it, wouldn’t I?”

He picks up his knife and fork. I don’t know why he bothers, because he sticks two uncut strips of bacon in his mouth. Compared to Georgia’s dainty bites, it’s a bit of a shock to the system.

I watch him chew before swallowing. “Not necessarily,” he says. “You’ve been behaving like any pup would, and no pup has control of themselves.”

When heat burns my cheeks, I lower my gaze to my plate because I donotneed to be reminded of the things I do when I’m a wolf.

I fork up some eggs and take my time chewing before swallowing, conscious that Keane is still waiting for a response. “Well, whatever caused it, I have no control over it.”

“But Georgia thinks you do?”

I lift my head. “I think that’s the only reason she didn’t kill me outright for what I did to Diana.”

Maybe one day I’ll be able to admit that I killed her, but it isn’t today. I doubt it will be tomorrow, or even the day after that.

I’d thought an entire package of bacon would be too much, but with the speed Keane is demolishing the food on his plate, it’s looking like the ten strips of bacon on his plate to my five might not have been enough. “And if it was a spell?”

I observe him for a moment, because his question doesn’t seem casual. It feels like there’s a point to it. “You know something,” I say.

He takes a long draw of his juice, nearly draining his glass before returning it to the table. “I might.”

“And you’re not going to tell me?”

“I’m not sure I can trust the source yet, so no. Tell me about Vera.”

Not trust the source? What isthatsupposed to mean?

I halt midway through forking a piece of bacon into my mouth. “Vera? What about her?”

Did he go to Layla’s house to snoop the other night?

“Tell me about her,” he repeats, his tone giving nothing away about why he’s suddenly interested in her.

“She’s Layla’s deputy in the coven,” I answer slowly, trying and failing to read his expression. “Why do you want to know?

“So there’s a strong possibility that this Vera will know whatever Layla does?”

There’s only one reason he’d be asking me that. “You think Vera was involved in killing your pack?”

“Not yet. I’m just curious.”

As I eat, my mind spins through why he’d believe that. I’d understand why Keane would think Layla was responsible, since she’s one of the strongest witches in town, but Vera? How would he even know who she was, since I’ve never mentioned her?

A memory flickers in my mind, one I can’t believe I could forget. “Mara. You said you had spoken with a witch called Mara. Did she tell you? Is that where you went last night?”

And why am I suddenly desperate to know what Mara looks like, and if she’s pretty?

“She was being a little more helpful than I’m used to seeing in a witch,” he admits, still with that inscrutable look in his eyes.

Was he thinking about her during our snuggle-fest on the couch?

You need to stop calling it that, Briar. Seriously. Stop it.

“Just about finding out who killed your pack?” I ask, trying for casual when I’m gripping my knife and fork way too tight for anyone to call it casual.

A frown creases his brow. “What else would I be talking about?”

I duck my head and attack my breakfast, because what just came out of my mouth sounded far too much like I was acting jealous.

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