There was nothing he could do when it came to breaking the spell that bound them together. Why not head back to his lair in Nevada and wait for Sally to contact him when she had the means to break the mating?
But the thought had barely time to form before it was forgotten as he headed into the cottage.
He’d spent three hellish weeks chasing after his witch.
Until the bond was broken, he wasn’t letting her out of his sight.
Entering through the back door, he passed through the small mudroom that opened into a large kitchen equipped for a witch, not a chef.
There was a massive, stone fireplace with a cast-iron cauldron hanging over a pile of wood. The open rafters were lined with bronze pans and bundles of dried herbs. And in the center of the floor, a circle had been carved into the flagstones that was large enough for two or three witches to sit in without touching.
He followed the scent of peaches into the main room of the cottage, discovering Levet flitting around the sparsely furnished space and Sally standing beside the empty fireplace, her spine rigid.
He grimaced, assuming she was trying to give him the cold shoulder. Then, slowly he realized it wasn’t annoyance she was feeling.
It was a dull, bitter pain he could feel through their bond.
With two long strides he was standing at her side, gently tucking her hair behind her ear so he could study her pale profile.
“There’s something here that bothers you?”
“You could say that.” Her lips twisted as her gaze lingered on the scorched mark on the wall. “This is the precise spot where my mother tried to kill me.”
The image of a young Sally lying lifeless on the floor seared through Roke’s mind and he struggled to contain his burst of fury. His temper had the unfortunate effect of destroying the structural integrity of any building he happened to be standing near.
Instead he concentrated on the pleasant knowledge that Sally’s mother had died a painful, probably even gruesome death at the hands of a fellow vampire.
Levet crossed the room to study Sally with a sympathetic expression on his ugly face.
“Why would your mother try to kill you?”
Sally shivered. “She didn’t know my father was a demon. Not until my sixteenth birthday when my powers started to kick in.” She gave a humorless laugh. “It was an unpleasant surprise, to say the least.”
“Ah. My mother tried to kill me as well.” Levet shrugged. “Families are always difficult.”
Sally managed a small smile that didn’t disguise the wounds that festered in her heart.
“She’s dead,” she said in grim tones. “She can’t hurt me anymore.”
Roke’s fingers brushed her cheek. “No one is going to hurt you.”
She awkwardly stepped away, her expression wary.
Despite their bond she still didn’t trust him.
Hell, the woman had been taught she couldn’t trust anyone.
“My mother’s room is this way,” she muttered, leading them out of the front parlor down a short hallway.
Pushing the door open, she stepped aside as the gargoyle entered the small bedroom and began investigating the dust-coated furnishings.
“Do you sense anything?” she demanded as Levet stuck his head in the closet.
“Non.”
Roke moved across the hall to the second closed door. “What’s in here?”
“Stop,” Sally rasped, a hint of embarrassment in her voice.