Page 37 of Soul of a Witch

Whispered curses floated through the air. “It certainly would have been preferable.”

That was fair enough. I still didn’tunderstand, but humans worked in mysterious ways. “Well then, we’ll try that next time.”

The explosion of cursing that followed my declaration told me perhaps I should stop talking entirely.

Regardless of Winona’s irritation, she gave me what I needed. At her instruction, I selected a crisp biscotti from its jar, laying it on a plate with a variety of fresh fruits. Meanwhile, Winona was combining a variety of herbs in a bubbling pot, and when she deposited it into a teacup, the scent was vile.

“This tea smells like piss,” I said. Another ghostly smack was delivered to the back of my head.

“Make sure she drinks all of it.” A soft breeze whispered through the air, masking the gross smell with the somewhat milder scent of lemongrass. “The last thing that poor girl needs is to get pregnant.”

With a scoff, I said, “She’s not a full-blooded witch; her father has no magic. Such a thing is nearly impossible.”

“You know how much magic is in her. Full-blooded or not, we can’t risk it.”

“As you say, then.” With a shrug, I let her have her way. Collecting the plate and the gross-smelling tea, I couldn’t help chuckling as the old ghost grumbled one last complaint at me.

“Wretched demon waited two thousand years for that woman and couldn’t even keep it in his pants for forty-eight hours. Typical.”

Everly was still in the bath when I returned to her bedroom, but the door wasn’t locked. She jolted upright as I walked into the bathroom, staring at me with her arms crossed over her naked chest and her legs pulled up.

“Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” she exclaimed. Why the hell was she bothering to cover herself? I’d already seen all of her, I’d been inside her.

Humans were so strange.

“You need sustenance.” I set the plate of fruit and biscotti on the small glass table beside the tub. “And your grandmother says you must drink this. Blame her for the taste, not me.”

She stared at the things I’d brought her with suspicion. The way her eyes darted around reminded me of a cornered rabbit, searching constantly for an exit. Usually such a display of fear would turn me on, but from her, it made me uncomfortable in a way I wasn’t used to.

She should have been running wild through an endless summer. Naked limbs and wild hair. Unbridled smiles and laughs that were too loud. She should have been bursting with all the power and hope inside her.

Instead, she was muted. A fire struggling to survive in the rain, a masterpiece with gray paint thrown over it. It made me long to throw kindling on her flames, shelter her heat until it grew so strong nothing could vanquish it.

It was dangerous to feel that way. Fate taught me better than to feel such things.

“You brought this for me?”

She was obviously hungry; I could hear her stomach growling as she stared at the fruit.

“Your body needs fuel to recover,” I said. Picking up a sliver of orange, I offered it to her, holding it close to her lips so the smell could tempt her. “Go on. You’re shaking. The food will help.”

Never taking her eyes from my face, she ate the fruit from my fingers. Her lips touched me briefly, an electric current shooting between us that made her wince, then softly smile as she chewed the food.

If only I could see into her mind, read her thoughts like a book. So many years had passed since I first saw her face, but in all that time, I’d tried not to imagine what she would be like. Listening for her name, through century after century, watching the human world change and countless generations pass by — never finding her. Always wondering, but never daring to hope.

That first taste of food whet her appetite, and she ate enthusiastically. She eyed me with uncertainty when I dragged in a chair from the bedroom, positioning it so I could keep my eyes on her.

“You really don’t understand what privacy is, do you?” Her lips twitched with a suppressed smile.

“To be free of observation or disturbance by other people,” I said, reciting the definition easily. I was perfectly fluent in most human languages. The ones I didn’t know, I could easily learn by listening to it for a couple of days. Propping one leg atop the other so I was a bit more comfortable, I said, “But I am notpeople. I’m your guardian.”

“Self-declaredguardian,” she said. But she didn’t tell me to leave. She took a sip of her tea, made a face, and put it down again.

“Your grandmother insists you drink it,” I said. “I suppose it’s a method of birth control.”

She suddenly looked as if she was going to spew out the tea she’d just choked down. “It’s — what? That’s possible? For you to…oh, God.”

“Calm yourself. Winona is showing an overabundance of caution. It is likely wise of her, but don’t let it frighten you. Such pregnancies are extremely uncommon.”

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