Boundary Born (Boundary Magic Book 3) - Melissa F. Olson Page 0,47

he liked Boulder. “It’s a fascinating city,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting with amusement. “A smoke shop on each block, dreadlocks on all the white college students, and everywhere I go, it takes me five minutes to throw away my trash in the appropriate containers.”

I laughed. We talked a little bit about Emil’s life, which I hadn’t really bothered to ask about the day before. He lived just outside Halifax in Nova Scotia, where he owned a small New Age bookstore. He gave a little dismissive shrug when he talked about it. “Most of what I sell is garbage, but I know enough about witchcraft and magic to help the customers a little bit here and there: a candle, a symbol, sage to cleanse a new house. That sort of thing.” He had come to Boulder to meet with a potential new supplier, an appointment he’d made mostly to have an excuse to meet me.

“Do you . . . um, did you ever remarry? Have other kids?” I felt awkward asking such a personal question, but there was a part of me that longed to hear that I had a sibling out there. As soon as I had the thought, though, I felt disloyal to Sam.

It’s okay. I want you to have someone, too.

At any rate, Emil shook his head. “I’ve dated here and there, and right now I have a nice friendship with a lady who lives about an hour away.” He smiled ruefully. “I don’t think we’ll get married, though. We’re both too independent. Solitary.”

That sounded familiar. “And what about you?” he asked, brightening. He leaned forward. “Do you have someone special? Any kids? I would love to be a grandfather.”

I shook my head. “No kids. I spend a lot of time with my cousins’ children, though. And I’m seeing someone, but we’re both sort of”—I borrowed his word—“independent.”

He studied me. “A vampire?”

I blinked, not bothering to hide my surprise. “How did you know?”

Emil shrugged. “Just a guess. My father died when I was young, but my mother, Sophia, is a black witch—sorry, I always forget the preferred term. A boundary witch. She has been with a vampire for decades now. I’ve seen the”—he waved a hand, looking for a word—“the allure between boundary witches and vampires.” There was a note of disapproval in his tone, and I suspected some serious family drama there. “That attraction is, unfortunately, part of why boundary witches are so scarce now. There just isn’t enough breeding with other witches.”

I wrinkled my nose at the word “breeding,” but Emil didn’t see it. Despite Sam—and by extension, Valerya—saying this guy was okay, I didn’t like the way he talked about boundary magic. There was a reverence in his voice that was nearly worshipful.

At the same time, though, it was nice to meet someone who didn’t either cower or snarl at the very mention of death magic. Besides, didn’t every family have these prejudicial disagreements? I had an uncle who still thought homosexuals shouldn’t marry, despite living in liberal Boulder. And as much as I loved my parents, I was pretty sure my mother privately thought all my rescue animals should be put down before they ruined my house any further. Were Emil’s opinions about boundary witches needing to have babies really any different?

I was also really interested in Emil’s mother, Sophia. I didn’t know a single other boundary witch—with the exception of Nellie, who was dead. The idea of having someone I could actually call up on the phone for advice really appealed to me. And I could use some help with training, since Simon and Lily had pretty much maxed out their knowledge.

“Is your mother, um . . .”

“Still alive? Yes, although these days she’s often mistaken for my little sister.” He smiled and added, “You remind me of her, actually. She’s also very . . . contained.”

“What does she do?”

“She’s mostly retired, although she works part-time at the shop for me. She’s actually running it this week while I’m gone.” He put down his coffee cup very gingerly, as if trying not to spook me. “You should come and visit us sometime. I’m sure Mother would love to meet you.”

I spun my own cup in quarter turns, not sure how to answer. “Listen, Emil,” I began. “I need to ask you for a favor.”

His eyebrows lifted, genuinely surprised. “Of course, anything.”

“Well, wait until you hear the favor.” I took a deep breath and gave him the story Simon and