Bait N' Witch (Brimstone Inc. #3) - Abigail Owen Page 0,32

The woman meant to be a bitch. Persephone’s message came across loud and clear: I’m the better witch and hands off.

“I think she gets the point, Persephone,” Grey said in a voice that brooked no argument. “I wouldn’t have hired her if I didn’t think she was capable.”

Okay. So maybe not quite so unobservant. And the warmth that bloomed inside her at his defending her was dangerous.

“It’s fine,” Rowan said, only to be on the receiving end of his frown.

The other woman paused, then smiled kindly. “I didn’t mean anything—”

“I should hope not,” Grey said.

Persephone turned to Rowan. “It’s nothing against you personally. The other nannies have all had ideas. I’m sure you understand.”

Were all traditionally trained witches this competitive? “I can see how frustrating that could be. You have no worries from my side. I promise.”

She received a simpering smile for her troubles. “The chair in the corner is comfy.” Persephone waved a careless hand.

“Of course,” Rowan murmured and moved to the spot on the other side of the room from where Grey had chosen to be.

A childish urge took hold, and she stuck her tongue out at Persephone’s back.

A choked sound had her jerking her gaze to Grey, who straightened out the amusement curling his lips and gave her a look that reminded her of Tanya when she was unimpressed.

A sheepish shrug and she’d turned away, wincing as she did. Caught acting like one of the girls when she was supposed to be the adult in charge of them. Just sad. Now, sitting in a literal corner so she wouldn’t be “in the way,” Rowan couldn’t decide which was more difficult—hiding her growing dislike for the woman, hiding her incredulity at the rudimentary lesson taking place given what she’d seen the girls do at home, or hiding her amusement at the girls’ obvious boredom with the exercise. Persephone had them growing flowers, but in fast-forward, like watching a time-lapse video—a trick Rowan had learned at the age of five.

“Good job, Atleigh,” Persephone praised the now beautifully blooming violets.

Lachlyn rolled her eyes behind her aunt’s back. “Aunt Persephone, can we try something else now?”

Persephone ran a critical eye over Lachlyn’s single bloom. “Let’s focus on getting this spell right first. Once you master the basics, then we’ll move on.”

It didn’t get much more basic than growing a few flowers in a pot.

Rowan bit down on a laugh as Persephone turned her back on Lachlyn to help Chloe, and Lachlyn suddenly showed her true aptitude. With a wave of her hand, the girl grew a bunch of flowers at ten times the speed, resulting in a bouquet similar to her sister’s. At Atleigh’s warning glance, Lachlyn pulled a face, then reversed time and returned the plant to a single bloom.

Both girls checked the adults in the room—first Persephone and then Grey, who was busy on his laptop. Then they glanced toward Rowan, who raised her eyebrows and again struggled not to laugh out loud at the rueful expressions turned her way. In answer she sent them a conspiratorial wink. Atleigh and Lachlyn blew out silent breaths of relief even as they exchanged a glance. Persephone chose that moment to turn back to them, and Rowan remained quiet in her assigned corner.

After all, Persephone had been quite clear about not wanting any help.

Twenty minutes later, torture in the guise of a lesson finally over, the group made their way out of the house. “Great job, ladies,” Persephone praised her nieces. “Lachlyn, I expect you to be able to bloom more flowers by the time I see you on Monday.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the girl grumbled.

Persephone turned to Rowan. “Lovely to meet you. I hope you last longer than the others.”

Sure you do.

Before Rowan could respond in a suitably nanny-like manner, a hummingbird appeared and hovered before her, staring right at her.

“Look at that,” Grey commented. “I’ve never seen a hummingbird do that.”

“Oh,” Rowan gave a self-conscious giggle, which sounded forced to her ears. “It must think all this red hair is a really big flower.”

Of course, that wasn’t what the hummingbird thought at all.

Danger, the tiny bird whispered, and Rowan clenched her fists against a spasm of fear. Pricklies hit in a shiver-inducing wave spiking through her skin, and she had to physically keep herself from glancing into the surrounding woods for someone secretly watching.

The wolves aren’t coming for you. Greyson is the bigger problem.

Collecting her calm like pulling a cloak around her, Rowan focused. She was the only one here who could