I groaned, pushing myself up in bed, wearing my nightgown that read I’m a witch in the morning.
Finnick scowled at my nighty. “You need to get some sexier sleepwear. Pronto.”
“My nightgown is just fine, thank you very much.” I shoved him out of my room, and Gwen followed with Ambrose trotting after her. I heard them laughing in my living room—likely at my nightgown—and the opening of my fridge.
The same exhaustion headache that started when I woke up at Killian’s house came back tenfold as I headed into my small bathroom. I could barely turn around. The toilet sat tight next to my sink with the oval mirror above it, and the claw-foot bathtub filled up most of the space. I slid back the shower curtain and turned on the water before lifting the lever to shift the water to the showerhead, the pipes clanging.
After Killian left the shop, I’d taken Ambrose for a fly, and sitting in my rooftop garden, I researched everything I could on telepathy. The ability was rare, certainly among witches. Many vampires had the ability, especially between a Sire and his fledgling. Which meant that ability didn’t come from me. Killian was an old vampire; perhaps he was coming into a new power. By the time I shed my nightgown and stepped into the shower, I’d pushed the thoughts from my mind.
When I walked into the living room thirty minutes later, wearing jeans and a tight black tank top, my long, slightly wavy brown hair hanging loose, smoky makeup around my deep-blue eyes, both Gwen and Finnick were drinking their favorite lime margaritas, which were crimson from the added blood. Before I owned the shop and the apartment, a human had used the property for her chocolate store, and I would swear I could still smell the sweet sugariness filling the room. The window near the kitchen was open, and Ambrose was nowhere in sight, off for his night flight.
A steaming coffee waited for me on the coffee table. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Gwen said from her spot on the couch. “Now sit and tell us everything.”
So, I did, beginning when the creepy customer came into the shop and ran out, the part Gwen already knew, to when Killian left this morning, leaving me staring after him.
Gwen blinked twice when I finished. “I’m not actually sure where to begin,” she said.
Finnick agreed with a nod. “I had no idea you’d been attacked when I saw you. You looked fine.”
I swallowed a gulp of coffee, relishing the jolt of energy. “Killian gave me his blood to remove the drug from my system.”
Gwen’s mouth hung open.
Finnick fanned himself, fluttering his long eyelashes. “What I wouldn’t give to have just a sip of Killian Constantine’s blood.”
I shuddered, trying desperately not to remind myself how, in his memory, I seemed to want his blood. “Believe me, I don’t want a repeat.”
“No fun,” Finnick said with a salacious wink.
Gwen snorted at him and then said to me, “What happened to you is so scary. I feel terrible I left you at the shop alone.”
“Don’t,” I retorted, lifting my mug to my lips. “They were bad vampires who obviously had a prejudice against me. You can’t be there all the time.” I took another sip of the coffee.
“You’re right, I can’t,” Gwen said, averting her gaze to the margarita in her hands. “But it’s wrong, regardless. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“Thanks. But I’m okay. Nothing hurts. And I’m fine.”
“Except that you’re telepathically talking to the most powerful vampire in Charleston,” Finnick pointed out.
“Well, yes, except that,” I said.
“Any idea what that’s about?” Gwen asked.
“Got me.” I shrugged.
Ambrose flew back through the window and landed on my lap. His mouth was wide open, his sharp teeth gleaming in the light—aka his hungry face. No luck finding a snack, then. I set my glass down and scooped him up, kissing his head before heading into the kitchen to grab the chicken in the fridge. “I researched telepathy after Killian left. If witches have the gift, it’s there from birth.” I wished this was the first inkling of my magic appearing, but I refused to be disappointed in myself. I’d already spent years punishing myself for being different.
“This is so weird,” Gwen finally offered. “Like, all of it.”
“Right?” I nuked the chicken in the microwave, and while the hum filled the air, I glanced back and added, “The whole thing is unsettling.” At the beeping of the microwave, Ambrose flew over. He buried his head in the bowl the moment I set it down. With Ambrose settled, I took a blueberry muffin I’d picked up at the bakery a couple of days ago from the box and returned to my spot on the couch. “But that’s really all I know. Just a bunch of weird stuff happening with no answers.”
Finnick asked, “Did the Warden seem concerned?”
“He seemed … suspicious of me,” I explained, ripping off a piece of the top of the muffin before devouring it. “Like I wasn’t being truthful with him. Or that my story wasn’t lining up. I let him into my memories, and once he saw what happened, he said I should contact him if anything or anyone unsettles me.”
Finnick waggled his eyebrows. “Can you contact him for other reasons too?”
“Oh my Goddess, Finnick, do you think about anything else but sex?” I asked.
“Hell no,” he snapped, tipping his margarita glass in my direction. “Come on, Willa, even you have to admit that vampire is gorgeous.”
“I’m not saying that he isn’t,” I argued, a little ashamed how susceptible I was to the Warden’s looks. Normally, a sexy face didn’t interest me. “What I am saying is that there needs to be more than looks and he’s got a wooden stake stuck up his butt.”
Finnick fanned his face. “I’d like to stick something up his—”
“I’d like to hear you say that to the Warden’s face,” Gwen interjected.
Finnick rolled his eyes, turning to me. “You really wouldn’t jump on that if you had the chance?”
“No, I wouldn’t,” I lied breezily because damn! I could still feel Killian’s power rushing through me. I couldn’t even imagine how that power would feel when passion was added into the equation. “Sure, Killian is nice on the eyes, but he’s brooding and intense. I like my partners … I don’t know … not thinking I’m a liar.”
Gwen burst out laughing. “Your standards are so high.”
I smiled at her.
Finnick added, “I’m not saying date him. I’m saying sleep with him. Trust me, the brooding and intense types make fantastic lovers.”
“First of all, I only talked to Killian. Sex really wasn’t on the table,” I mused. “Second of all, I don’t want complicated. Sex always makes things complicated.” I’d taken a few human lovers from out of town, but they always got attached. Always. And I couldn’t promise my heart to a human. We could never have offspring, and I hoped to have a whole house full of them. One day, secretly, I wished to find a warlock, and that would be my ticket back into a coven. But I wasn’t even sure that was a dream worth having anymore. “So, like I said, Killian Constantine is not for me.”