Bait N' Witch (Brimstone Inc. #3) - Abigail Owen Page 0,46

was used to the bracing scent of sea air. Here the air was fresher in an odd way, with the zesty scent of pine subtly wafting on the breeze. The weather was also warmer here for this time of year, as Scotland sat farther north on the globe.

“Now, put your plants down in a line here.” She drew a line in a patch of dirt with her foot.

Another round of pouting glances, but they did as she asked. Then, making a big thing of the act, Rowan paced from the line to a point farther away and drew another line with her foot.

“When I say go, shoot your growing vines this way. The first to the finish line wins a skip day.”

The girls perked up, eyes brighter, backs straighter. “What’s a skip day?” Chloe asked.

“A day when you don’t have to go to magic practice after school. It’ll have to be a day your dad can stay with you, or he can take the losers to practice and I stay with you.”

Lachlyn slumped, arms crossed. “Dad will never allow it.”

“Let me deal with your dad. I’m sure I can fix it.” She wasn’t all that sure, but she’d address the issue later.

Chloe suddenly grinned and rubbed her hands together and shot a very un-Chloe-like stare at her sisters. “You are going down.”

“Don’t you bet on it.” Lachlyn switched from scowling to determined so quickly Rowan had to hold in a grin. “I’m going to win,” the almost teenager declared.

“No way,” Atleigh added, stepping up to her own plant, chin set in determination.

Rowan laughed, pleased to see them lose those morose expressions. “On three… One. Two. Three!”

With amazing speed, the vines for all three plants leaped forward. She’d known they could. Amazing what a little competition could do.

Rowan squealed with as much delight as the girls as their vines crept along the ground.

“Oh, no,” Chloe wailed. “Mine’s stuck on a weed and now it’s growing up instead of out.”

“Turn it around,” Rowan yelled.

Meanwhile Atleigh and Lachlyn were neck and neck. Lachlyn’s glower of concentration was fierce as she scolded her plant, while Atleigh’s approach was more encouraging.

Slowly, Atleigh’s pulled ahead, until, finally her vine crossed the finish line first.

“Yes!” Atleigh jumped up and down.

“Dang,” Lachlyn groaned.

Chloe, however, ran over to give her sister a hug. Then she turned to Rowan and flung her arms around her middle, squeezing her with an exuberant embrace. “That was fun, Rowan. Can we do it again?”

Rowan laughed. “If we grow those plants any longer, your aunt will think you cheated.”

“What is going on here?” Grey’s laughing voice interrupted their fun. They all jerked their gazes to find him standing by the door, arms crossed and with a fierce glower ruined by twitching lips.

A different man from the one she’d met the first day. That man would’ve been serious in his glowering. This one almost looked as though he wanted to join the fun.

“Rowan was helping us practice our magic by making it a race.”

“I won, Dad!” Atleigh bounced over to him, tugging on his hand to pull him over to see.

After inspecting the results, Grey hugged Atleigh. “Good work. To all of you! Persephone will be pleased, I’m sure.”

Gathering their plants, looping the tendrils of green-leafed vines over their arms, the girls giggled and chatted all the way back into the house.

“What did she win?” Grey asked.

Rowan pasted on her most innocent expression. She hoped it came across innocently, at least. “A skip day from magic practice.”

He snorted a laugh. “I see.”

She peeped at him from behind a fall of her hair. “You’ll allow it?”

“I shouldn’t, but I haven’t seen them that excited about magic in ages. Yes. I’ll allow it.”

That was easier than she’d expected. Rowan blew out a relieved breath and moved to follow the girls into the house, but Grey surprised her by stepping into her path, closing the door and leaning against it. “Did you stop to consider what might happen if their magic got out of hand? Heightened levels of emotion—including excitement—can trigger a spell to go horribly wrong.”

Damn. She hadn’t, because any magic gone wild she could handle. But that was the true Rowan, not weak-magic-user nanny Rowan. The question had been put gently, so she checked his expression, which gave her no clue as to his thoughts.

“Of course I considered that.” Think fast.

His brows drew lower, while his gaze remained so intently on hers, it suddenly got more difficult to breathe. “Really? Because last time you used magic