He sighed again.
I got the impression I was testing Mr. Black’s patience more and more of late. A warlock shouldn’t be my first point of call when it came to all things magical, but going to my local coven would mean way too many questions about my abilities.
Elijah worked for the Grimswood Coven, a different breed of coven that used an alternate power source to miasma to practice magic. To tap into it, they needed an anchor witch, one born under the sign of Ophiuchus.
Someone like me.
There was a whole deal about some ancient threat being kept at bay, and dire wolf packs, and goodness knew what else. To be honest, I hadn’t paid too much attention when he explained it all. A: because I’d been too busy staring into his blue-green eyes and wondering how an older dude could be this hot, and B: because as soon as he’d said the word anchor, I’d switched off. Being tied down to anything or anyone was a huge no for me.
Which brought me back to my current predicament. “Can you help me or not?”
“You want my help, and yet you refuse to help us.”
Us as in the Grimswood Coven. Elijah was an anomaly of a different nature. A rogue warlock working for witches. Warlocks and witches didn’t, as a rule, mix. From what I’d gleaned, they didn’t even like each other. I mean, you wouldn’t see a witch and a warlock getting it on, which was weird because surely bloodlines would be stronger that way. Still, there was a ton I didn’t know about the witch and warlock world. Deliberate, of course, because learning too much might drag me into their world, and I was all about the not-being-dragged and not-being-tied-down. Unless it was for fun sexy times.
I digress.
I cut the crusts off my sandwich. “You don’t need me, Black. You have several potentials capable of being your anchor.”
“You’re special, Cora.”
“Oh, you know just how to give a girl tingles, don’t you?”
“I don’t have time for girls, Cora. Now, women are a different matter.”
My mouth went dry at the reminder of who I was dealing with.
“You are special, Cora. It’s a fact.” He sounded almost weary.
“Yeah, and I’d like to stay that way. Special and unfettered, so get your ass into gear and help me fix this.” I bit into my sandwich and suppressed a moan of pleasure as flavor exploded on my tongue. “I’ll owe you a favor.”
“Are you speaking with your mouth full?” he asked.
“Yeah, enjoy it. It’s the only time you’re gonna get to hear that sound.”
“We’ll see.”
Why did I even play this game with him?
My neck heated. I chewed and swallowed quickly. “Just hurry with a loophole.”
“Next week,” he said. “This week is…busy.”
“Oh, you have a hot date?’”
“Several, actually.”
Several? No, I wasn’t even going to ask. “Fine.”
I supposed I could refrain from taking the amulet off deliberately or accidentally for a week.
He hung up without saying goodbye, but there was no offense taken. Elijah was just…Elijah, and despite his connection to the Grimswood Coven, he was one of the few people in the witchy world I fully trusted.
I polished off my sandwich, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and carried the second sandwich I’d made into the living room.
“Here you go, Wren.”
My furry little friend was curled up on the sofa, fast asleep.
His stomach had been grumbling when we’d got back, but the soft snores emanating from his tiny body told me what he needed most right now was rest. I set the food on the coffee table, grabbed a throw off the back of the sofa, and gingerly draped it over the tiny creature.
What had Jasper called him?
Mogwai.
I’d need to look that up. Do some research, but not tonight. I glanced up at the gap in the drapes and the gray predawn light beyond. Okay, so it was morning already. A yawn battled with my jaw, and I bit it back. Yeah, yeah, I needed sleep.
I was almost at the door to the hallway when a thought occurred to me. What if Wren woke up and got spooked? I mean, this wasn’t his world. He might get scared.
Fuck it.
I scooped him up, blanket and all, and carried him to bed with me.
For the first time in a long time, I wouldn’t be sleeping alone.
I was woken by the shrill ringing of my phone. I was sure I’d put it to vibrate before I’d gone to sleep. I rolled over and made a grab for the bedside table. Something brushed the inside of my arm. Soft, warm, and furry. I froze, a scream trapped in my throat as an image of a humongous spider flittered through my mind, but then my memory returned.
Wren.
I pulled back the duvet to peek at my furry friend, still fast asleep despite the screaming mobile.
Speaking of which. “Hello!”
“Wow, you’re still not a morning person, are you?” Fee said.
I rubbed my eyes. “What time is it?”
“Lunchtime. Were you working last night?”
“Yeah. Fucked-up case.”
“How about you tell me all about it over supper later?”
I sat up as the implications of this call sank in. “When did you get back from the Underealm?”
“Last night, and I’ll be at the pack house later tonight. So, you in?”
“Do demons fly?”
She chuckled. “Love you. See you later.”
We ended the call with smooches, and I lay back against the pillows, the empty day ahead no longer so dismal. Part of me hated that I was so ecstatic about Fee’s return. She’d been all I’d known for the longest time. My whole world.
I’d broken away, needing to find my own feet and find myself, but whenever she called, it was like coming home.
I both loved and hated that because it showed I still hadn’t found my place yet. That I still hadn’t found me.
Wren made a soft chirping sound then sat up suddenly, wide-eyed and alert.
He stared at me for long seconds, and then he smiled. “Cora saved Wren.”
His stomach grumbled.
I poked his belly gently. “And now I’m gonna feed you.” I pushed the covers off the bed, stood and stretched, sleep shirt riding up to allow the midday sun to kiss my skin. “Come on, buddy. Let’s have some brunch.”
I scrambled eggs, fried bacon, and made toast. Once a pot of tea was steeping, I joined Wren at the kitchen table. My house was small and cozy, and the furniture was all second hand, but it was mine. The kitchen was my favorite room in the house. Old style cottage décor with wooden cabinets and an Aga stove that heated up the whole house when turned on. The kitchen was the heart of my home.
“Who was Cora speaking to earlier,” Wren asked as I placed a plate in front of him.
He was so small I’d had to put cushions on his chair to help him reach the tabletop.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“Wren heard Cora in his dreaming.”
“My friend Fee called me. My best friend. She just got back from a long trip to the Underealm.”
He stared at me blankly.
“You don’t know what that is, do you?”
“A place?”
“That’s right. The home of demons.”