Bait N' Witch (Brimstone Inc. #3) - Abigail Owen Page 0,57

people had been right, they weren’t fates.

Rowan blinked as Essie’s words sank in. Wait. What exactly did everything cover?

“Do you stand there often?” Rowan asked, thinking back to those times a shiver had slipped over her skin in that spot. “Or with Nefti?”

Essie—dressed surprisingly casually in trousers and a pale blouse, her short gray hair fluffed out in a halo around her head—gave a gleeful smile. “I do like making my presence felt, and cats have always been able to speak to the dead. It’s why she’s still my cat.”

Rowan snorted a chuckle. “I see.”

“She likes you, though.”

They shared a smile of mutual amusement.

Getting no negative vibe from Grey’s grandma, she relaxed slightly. “To answer your question, yes. I’m here to…check on…Grey and the girls.”

Essie stared at her for a long, disconcerting moment. “You mean you’re here to protect them from the wolves.”

If Rowan had been attached to her body, she would’ve stumbled back in shock. Even so, her form shuddered, reverberating in a manner that caused a lance of pain through her head. How was that possible? More importantly… “How did you know?”

Essie smirked. “The animals aren’t the only ones who pass on gossip. Ghosts are worse than men in a locker room, given they’ve nothing better to do than sit around watching the living.”

Rowan had no idea where to go first with her questions. “Why not pass on, then?”

Another eerie stare from once-blue eyes, now strangely pale in Essie’s face, made Rowan want to shuffle her feet like a truant schoolgirl. “Something told me my family needed some looking after.”

What reply could she give to that? “Fair enough.”

Grey chose that moment to enter the room. With automatic actions, almost as though his mind was a thousand miles away, he set the kettle to boiling and got out the tea. Only, when he opened the tin, he looked closer, then cursed. She’d forgotten to fill it back up before she left.

Flipping the stove flame off, he yanked out his cell phone and dialed. Judging by his dark scowl, Grey was not happy. Because of tea?

“Where is she, Delilah?” he barked without saying hello first. “I want to speak to her.”

Delilah’s reply came across too softly to catch the words, but Grey’s glower deepened. “That’s not good enough.”

He paused, listening. Then he ran a hand through his hair, spiking it up, and Rowan lifted a hand only to drop it back to her side as his shoulders drooped forward in defeat. “You don’t understand. You need to get her back here.”

He blew out a long breath as he rubbed at his chest, then turned and headed back to his office.

“Because I love her, dammit. That’s why.” The words floated back to Rowan down the hallway. “I need her more than anyone else could possibly…”

Even here where everything—sensation, emotion, life—felt far away, a pale reflection like her form, a multitude of emotions slammed through her, lighting her up and dragging her down at the same time.

Had he just—?

Did he really say—?

Rowan turned to Essie, who still hovered in the corner. “Did…did you hear that?”

The old woman rolled her eyes. “You’re both hopeless. But that’s not what you need to worry about right now.”

Despite the numbness of the realm, a trace of that prickly sensation walked down the back of her neck. Only one other thing could be more important. “The wolves are still coming?”

“They’re not coming.”

Rowan practically floated to the roof with relief.

“They’re here.” Essie pointed out the window.

Light flared outside, illuminating the dark, an instant before a series of explosions from outside boomed, splitting the silence with a crash of sound. The windows shattered, glass flying everywhere. The reverberations slammed through Rowan like shockwaves, even in the ethereal realm. Immediately, heavy black smoke poured into the room.

Upstairs, one of the girls screamed.

…

Grey shook his head as his ears rang following the blast. His lungs screamed in protest at the heavy smoke, his eyes watering. His house was under attack.

The wards would hold off whatever was out there, but not indefinitely.

I have to get the girls to the panic room.

He’d save his magic for when he absolutely needed it. Most likely multiple assailants were involved, and the possibility of them being magical was high. He needed to preserve his energy. Even small spells would reduce his ability to fight, weaken him, and leave him vulnerable.

He sprinted through the house and up the stairs, shouting as he ran. “Girls!”

Immediately, doors were thrown back, and he sucked in a big breath of relief