Bait N' Witch (Brimstone Inc. #3) - Abigail Owen Page 0,31

into his pocket. His conversation with Delilah made total logical sense, but something was still itching at him.

Stop being a hunter for a second, and just trust the woman.

First, though, a stop-off in Austin, Texas, to talk to a demigod and a nymph.

Chapter Eleven

Grey killed Kaios’s warlock because the guy had murdered his wife.

How she knew for sure that that’s who he’d been talking about—the warlock Kaios had used along with Rowan—she didn’t know. But it had been plain to her as he’d told the story.

Pain, for Grey, for his wife, for their sweet girls, had oozed through her like Mississippi mud, and Rowan had had to close her eyes against the hard look in his eyes.

But what does that mean for me?

The thought had been swirling around in her head since Grey had told her about it. Plaguing her. Making her question everything she believed. The Syndicate hadn’t sanctioned that execution. What if…

Except, Tanya believed they were dangerous. Believed they’d had Rowan’s parents killed. Had she been wrong?

A low murmur brought her attention back to where she was, and Rowan observed the girls’ lesson with their Aunt Persephone in total silence.

This was the first time she’d come along, because Greyson had to go into Denver for work on Monday and wouldn’t be able to take the girls. Since it was Friday, he’d wanted to introduce her to the girls’ aunt, his sister-in-law, ahead of time. Persephone lived “next door,” which meant in the Rocky Mountains, but on the other side of the divide. If they drove, the trip would take over an hour.

Hooray for teleporting.

A few glances snuck in Grey’s direction—granted, he had his laptop going the entire time—showed he found nothing amiss with the lesson. Was this really how most witches were schooled?

As soon as they had arrived at a cabin not unlike Greyson’s with dark brown log siding and natural stone accents, a woman had come out onto her front porch. Rowan pegged her age around thirty, tall and elegant, with dark hair pulled back in a perfect ponytail and wearing three-inch stilettos. In the mountains. In the snow.

Meanwhile, beside her Rowan suddenly felt like a dowdy frump with her red curls a wild halo about her face, and her jeans, black blouse, and black boots way too casual. After the burned lasagna and hiding incident, she hadn’t bothered to upgrade her wardrobe all that much, opting for blouses instead of T-shirts. Grey hadn’t said anything, but now she questioned her decision. Maybe she’d go shopping again on Sunday when she had her day off.

Only she’d stopped that thinking in its tracks. No way was she changing who she was just to compete with this woman. For what?

The introductions went fine, Persephone asking her to call her by her first name and welcoming her to the area. Then, as the girls tromped inside and they followed, the tone changed subtly. “I do ask that you don’t interrupt the lesson.” Persephone turned to Greyson. “Remember the last nanny who insisted on helping?” She gave a delicate chuckle.

Grey’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t comment.

“I wouldn’t dream of interfering,” Rowan assured her. Really. She wouldn’t. Not having grown up among witches, she hadn’t a clue about how they learned their magic.

“Good. Several of your predecessors have been inclined to offer suggestions. I’ll tell you what I told them. I’ve been licensed to instruct for ten years now, and I teach the six- and seven-year-olds at the Denver Coven’s gifted academy. I certainly don’t need advice from a…” She paused and gave Rowan a cool once-over. “I’m sure you understand.”

Amazing how a reasonably worded request could be altered by a tone that spoke volumes. Basically, Persephone had just called her an inept magical user who could never compare to a licensed teacher. Did Grey catch it? A quick check of his expression told her no.

He knew Persephone better than she. Maybe the other woman hadn’t meant it that way.

The next few minutes proved that notion wrong. In that short span of conversation, Rowan pegged Persephone as a self-important snob with—if her simpering attitude toward Grey gave any clue—designs on nabbing the widower brother-in-law for herself. Meantime, he, like every other man on the planet, failed to notice the female cattiness happening under his nose, taking the comments at face value.

Rowan schooled her expression to be pleasant. “I’ll just observe quietly from the corner. Perhaps I’ll even learn something new.”

Persephone’s smile came across full-on condescending. “Just don’t try anything without help.”

Wow.