Bait N' Witch (Brimstone Inc. #3) - Abigail Owen Page 0,33

understand the small bird, unless any of the others were Anevals—witches whose magic was strongest in connection to animals. She couldn’t talk to the bird, though. Not here.

Being an Aneval was more power than a barely magical user like she was pretending to be should have. Worse, if the Syndicate found out the weakness inherent with the power, it would be just one more nail in her coffin as far as they were concerned.

“Aren’t you beautiful. But no nectar here. Come back later and I’ll have some flowers for you.” She held her breath, hoping the creature understood.

Danger is coming, it whispered before zipping away with a high-pitched hum of its beating wings.

Spider eyes and ghost tears. Maybe she should’ve been listening to those pricklies all along?

“Do animals often come to you?” Grey asked, his dark brown gaze assessing.

Rowan hitched a shoulder. “I guess.”

Relief whooshed through her as the small frown between his eyebrows eased. “You must have a touch of Aneval in you.”

“I’m sure it’s just a coincidence,” Rowan hurried to say.

“Such a rare and valued gift,” Persephone murmured. “I’m sure Rowan’s right. Coincidence.”

But Grey wasn’t dropping it. “Do they ever talk to you?”

How to answer without directly lying? Ironically, Persephone’s disdain for the possibility of a nanny possessing such a skill gave her the answer. “If they did, I probably would be doing something else.” She took the sting out of the response with a cheerful smile.

At that he laughed, and Rowan sucked in a sharp breath. Normally Grey’s expression tended toward stern, unmovable. But when he smiled, like now, he showed an entirely different side—boyish, fun-loving. She had the strangest urge to laugh with him.

“Let’s go,” Grey said.

After a parting kiss on his cheek from Persephone, the five of them stood in a circle in front of her house, hands clasped tightly. “Home.”

Just the one word from Grey and they disappeared. Rowan had heard of others getting violently ill from the trip. Still others indicated teleportation to be a frightening practice. But she’d always loved the sensation. Instead of nausea or terror, Rowan found the experience fascinating.

They didn’t appear to be moving. Rather, the five of them stayed still while the world whooshed by in a silent blur of colors. Here in the mountains, shades of greens and browns and grays, the white of the snow with the blue of the skies overhead streaked with white from the clouds, surrounded her.

In moments they arrived in the front yard of Greyson’s home. The trees and brown winter grass around them flattened for a moment beneath the gust of wind generated by their arrival. Rowan released her grip on Chloe and Lachlyn and turned to head inside.

“Have you teleported often?” Grey asked.

“Um—” She hesitated to answer. How rare was teleportation anyway? Did most witches do it a lot? “Not often,” she hazarded. “But I do enjoy it.”

Interest lingered in his dark eyes as he walked beside her. “Oh? Most find it disconcerting. What do you enjoy?”

Had that been the wrong answer? Too late to change it now. “It’s like the universe comes to you, and I love all the colors. I imagine setting up a room of Monet paintings and then spinning in circles might have the same effect.”

“I’ve never heard that description, but I do see what you mean.”

“Do you like it?” Curiosity always had been a weakness of hers. Grey was quickly becoming another weakness.

As he unlocked the door, he flicked her a glance she couldn’t interpret. “I do.”

He let them inside, then promptly disappeared into his office. She frowned after his departing form. What had she said wrong this time?

It doesn’t matter. Distance is what you wanted.

She gave herself a shake. As long as he believed her story, his feelings about her, one way or another, should make no difference. The more important question at this moment was how she was going to find time to get away today. She needed to talk to the hummingbird.

Normally, she’d take her Sunday to disappear for a bit, but this weekend, the triplets were staying home for once. Grey had already asked her to stick around, saying he’d give her both Saturday and Sunday off the following weekend. She couldn’t wait that long.

Danger is coming, the hummingbird had said. Had the witches discovered her, and Grey played it cool? Or did a different danger lurk in the woods?

Chapter Twelve

Rowan wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself the rest of the day. On Saturdays they took the girls out.