Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Like, every morning before he rolled out of bed, he would hug me and tell me he loved me. And it wasn’t one of those quick ones; instead, he would wrap me in his arms so tight, I could feel the beat of his heart. Best way to start a day.
Before he poured his coffee, he’d thank his home for sheltering and protecting him. He’d told me it wasn’t something he’d ever done before moving in with me. But he never missed the chance now. Amazingly, his words would bring on a deep, earthy, sort of song-of-fall aroma that wafted through our home.
There had always been wonderful scents in the cottage, from lemon and verbena, petrichor and old books, to hot cocoa and oud. But for Lorne, because we’d met in autumn and he’d first visited in that season, even in the middle of summer, there would come a burst of pumpkin, but like outside, in the dirt, more pulp than pie, a hint of vanilla, the forest in the fall, chai, and baking bread. He would stand there, cup to his lips, hand on the counter, and grin at me. There was no doubt that both me and his home were madly in love with the man.
And finally, before he left the house, he waited while I sprinkled salt on the floor and had him walk over it, put a sprig of lavender in his back pocket, and then gently dusted him with cinnamon, all the while speaking softly, asking for protection while he was out in the world. Never once did he complain, and there was only a kiss before he closed the door behind him. Small rituals that told me he was grounded in his new life. I couldn’t have been any happier.
“Are you listening to me?” he asked harshly, bringing me out of my gossamer thoughts. He was clipping his words as we turned down our cul-de-sac, Cider Lane, where Corvus, the Johnson Apiary, and the Wingate Farm were, except we didn’t have a circular end that made it easy to turn around. The street simply stopped at trees. “Xan?”
“I am,” I promised, noticing Pete coming toward us in a police vehicle. Normally, on a Friday night, just a bit before midnight, the only thing on the two-lane road were assorted animals—deer, opossums, rabbits, and the occasional black cat.
“What the hell,” Lorne grumbled, stopping to find out what Pete wanted. “What’re you doing out here?”
“I came to get you,” he answered, and I saw how tired he appeared.
Argos jumped from the floor to my lap and then out my window. He landed lightly on the cobblestone driveway that led from the street to the small spot we had cleared for Lorne’s vehicle. Argos sat on the path for a moment, then darted left, trotting around the side of the house and disappearing into the shadows. He had definitely wanted to be home, and while he tended to ramble all over Osprey, tonight he seemed to have a singular destination in mind.
Taking off my seat belt, getting out of the car, I left Lorne and Pete to talk shop. Walking up the cobblestone drive, not following Argos’s path but instead striding to the right, I slipped between two of the many enormous hydrangea bushes lining the driveway.
Sinking to the ground, I pushed my hands into the dirt and thanked the land for answering my call earlier in the night.
You were away, the land said.
Safe now, I replied.
It was important for Corvus to know it had not failed me.
We are well, the land said.
We are well, I echoed.
Removing my hands and standing, I walked to the edge of my property, not taking the last step onto the road, but waving so Lorne would see me.
“Hey,” he called through the open passenger-side window, “Pete was catching me up on some stuff that happened at the carnival, various altercations, and idiots on Main Street trying to smash up windows, but just now he got a call that there’s some issue at Lynette Fornell’s house. I’m gonna go see what’s happening while Pete checks on the officers guarding Kathy’s house.”
“What if you need help?”
“Then I’ll call him,” he said like it was obvious, clearly annoyed with me. “Go in the cottage and stay—”
“Not that kind of help,” I said flatly, moving fast, scrambling back to the vehicle, only to find the door locked. “And no, I’m not going to wait for you here. Open the door.”
“I don’t need you to—”
“Are you kidding?” I snapped at him. “You don’t go to a problem at another witch’s house without me.”
“Yeah,” Pete said, and I noted his quick shiver. “Maybe let him go with you.”
Lorne looked between me and Pete, but then relented, unlocking the door. “You realize it’s probably nothing, right?”
“Of course,” I agreed, retaking my seat and belting myself in.