Witching Time (The Wild Hunt #14) - Yasmine Galenorn Page 0,4
out of your house or you sign up for an online dating service and go out with someone the computer matches you with. Hey, that might be the ticket. Why not give it a try?”
He frowned. “What if we don’t get along? What if we have nothing in common? What if I just don’t like her—or she doesn’t like me?”
He was starting to spiral. “Gary, listen to me. Focus.” I held his gaze. “If you don’t like her, you don’t have to go out with her again. If she doesn’t like you, she’ll just refuse a second date. What can you lose, except one evening?” I stared at him, waiting.
Fidgeting, he finally looked me in the eye. “All right. But I’m afraid.”
“Of what?” I was getting irritated. I had cut off clients before when they kept coming back, wanting a different answer without doing the actual work.
He shifted in his seat and finally leaned across the table and whispered, “I’ve only gone out with three women in my life. I’m just…” He blushed and stared at the table.
I reached across the table and patted his hand. “You’re shy. There’s no crime in that. A lot of people are. But you have a lot of wonderful qualities, Gary. You’re smart, you have a good job, you actually want a relationship instead of just somebody to fu—” As he blushed even deeper I quickly shifted to, “sleep with.”
“Thanks, Raven. I suppose you’re right. Unless I put myself out there, how am I ever going to find someone? I’m just not sure what to do.”
I thought quickly. “Let’s get Llew involved. He’ll set you up with a spell to meet someone who’s right for you.”
As the blush on Gary’s cheeks faded, he gave me a genuine smile.
I motioned to Llew. “Gary needs a love spell to attract a good match for him. Could you get him set up with something? I’ve got to run. My father’s coming in tonight and I have to go grocery shopping and get home before he meets Kipa without me.”
While I was certain my father was going to like Kipa, I had a sudden vision of my boyfriend stumbling over his words and blurting out something the wrong way. If I was there, I could smooth the introductions.
Llew motioned for Gary to follow him. “Come on, let’s go get you situated. Have you ever done any magic at all?”
Gary shook his head as Llew led him over to the counter. Feeling a little guilty about foisting Gary off on Llew, I gathered my things and slung my purse over my shoulder. Dropping my cup in the recycling can that Llew kept in the shop, I glanced outside. The rain was still thrashing the streets. No matter what, I was going to get soaked on my way back to my car.
Steeling myself, I pushed open the door and made a run for it.
Chapter Two
By the time I reached the grocery store, the traffic had slowed considerably. There were fender benders everywhere. It never failed. The first real rainstorm of the season brought out the dipshit factor, and every year Seattleites—who grew moss on their bodies nine months out of the year—seemed to forget how to drive in the rain. I parked as close as I could to the store and waited for one of the intermittent breaks where the rain eased off to a drizzle before hurrying inside. I had just cleared the doors when the deluge started up again.
As I grabbed a cart and began working my way through the aisles, I thought about my father’s impending visit. I had left him to come out west and arrived in Seattle thirty-some ago. I moved out of the city proper over to the east side of Lake Washington, to the UnderLake District of Kirkland, five years later to be nearer my fiancé Ulstair. My father had given me the money to pay for my house and I had accepted it without regret. Curikan was a good man, and his gifts never had strings attached.
He was one of the Black Dogs, the Ante-Fae of legend who appeared as black hellhounds around the world. Curikan was the Black Dog of Hanging Hills back in Connecticut. When a mortal—mostly humans, but sometimes the Fae—encountered him in dog form the first time, his presence brought them luck. But if they should encounter him a second time, it spelled great tragedy and sometimes, death.
Being the soft-hearted man Curikan was, he dreaded that his presence