Witching For Clarity (Premonition Pointe #4) - Deanna Chase Page 0,12

douchebucket deserved to have his balls ripped off. You’re worth all the time and effort in the world, Gigi. Remember that and never settle for less.”

Her skin tingled with something that felt like magic. It wasn’t that he was putting a spell out into the world; it was more like she could sense that Skyler was a kindred spirit of sorts. “It sounds like you’ve had some experience with abusive partners.”

He nodded. “Just once. It was the man I was involved with before Pete. Man, was I a complete mess, too. I got out of that relationship, but I honestly thought I would never date anyone again. It wasn’t that I didn’t think I deserved to have someone; I just didn’t trust anyone.” He gave her a shy smile as he added, “But Pete was just there, and so effing patient with me. It’s like he took my walls down piece by piece without me even noticing. Then one day, there was no turning back. We were together, and I couldn’t imagine not spending my life with him.” Skyler’s solemn expression turned to one of mischief. “Poor bastard. Imagine having to put up with my shenanigans all the time.”

Gigi slipped her arm through Skyler’s and held on. “I can only imagine it would be wonderful. Now let’s go inside and find some treasures.”

Skyler turned his gaze to the house, nodded once, and then led Gigi up the steps. Just as they got there, the door opened on its own, revealing a wide grand hallway with stairs to the right that curved up to the second floor.

“Wow,” Gigi said, taking in the gleaming wood floors and the ornate garden tapestries on the wall. “This is even more impressive than I imagined.”

“Same. I was expecting—” Skyler stopped mid-sentence when a butterfly from one of the tapestries materialized in real life and fluttered toward them. The electric blue beauty fluttered its wings a few times before heading down the hallway. When neither Gigi nor Skyler moved, the butterfly backtracked, repeated the fluttering, and once again made its way down the hall.

“I think we’re being summoned,” Gigi said in a hushed tone.

Skyler was standing stock-still, apparently unwilling or unable to move. His eyes were wide when he asked, “Do you think it’s safe? I don’t want to end up on the evening news with a headline that reads Witch and Her Gay Best Friend Die After Searching for Heirlooms.”

Gigi took a moment to breathe in her surroundings before answering. Ever since she’d moved into her house, she’d been able to sense the mood of places. The Victorian was no different. While there was a low buzz of energy in the hall, it wasn’t unwelcoming. Just slightly heavier than she was used to, likely due to the age of the home. There was more history, more layers of human emotion. She glanced down the hall where the butterfly had disappeared and spotted a faint outline of white light, almost like a glow. As soon as she blinked, it was gone again.

“It’s fine, Sky,” Gigi said, taking a step forward and nudging him along. “Trust me. Whatever or whoever is waiting for us has the energy of Glinda the Good Witch.”

He snorted. “You mean we’re going to find a witch who is all smiles and pleasantry but won’t exactly do much to help us until we’re seconds from death?”

Gigi couldn’t help but laugh. His assessment of Glinda from The Wizard of Oz wasn’t exactly far off. “It’s better than being whisked away by flying monkeys, isn’t it?”

“I’d rather we don’t have to endure either scenario if you don’t mind,” he said haughtily.

“It’s a deal. I’ll let you know if this place starts to give off a dangerous vibe, and if so, we’ll leave immediately before the tornado kicks in.”

“Deal.”

They walked cautiously down the hallway until they came to a set of wide-open doors that led to an elegant parlor that took Gigi’s breath away. The entire western wall was floor-to-ceiling windows with a spectacular view of a garden fit for royalty.

“Look at that settee,” Skyler whispered reverently. “Royal blue velvet Louis the XV-style loveseat with hand carved legs. It would be perfect in the dressing room of the store. Just perfect.”

“It’s for sale,” a woman said, appearing out of nowhere. “Let me get you a price sheet.”

Gigi glanced around, wondering where the pixie-sized woman who appeared to be in her early thirties had been hiding. Behind the door? Under a desk? In the closet? All of

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