Enchant the Night - Amanda Ashley Page 0,64
“I have more information, if I may speak?”
The Elder grunted his permission.
“I believe the woman practices witchcraft.”
“What proof have you?”
“As you know, magic always leaves a signature behind.”
“This could complicate matters,” the Elder remarked, his voice thoughtful. “Go back to the house and see if you can find any substantial proof.”
“Yes, Elder.”
“Ricardo?”
“Yes, Elder?”
“My apologies for striking you. Dismissed.”
Chapter 27
“What are you saying?” Quill asked, glancing at Ebony, who sat on the mantel glaring at him. “You think the cat had something to do with your healing the deer?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know! It was just so surreal. I’ve never studied any kind of healing magic, and yet I knew exactly what to do, what words to say, even though they were in another language. How is that possible? And how did Ebony get into Ava’s room when the door was closed? And how did she get out of the house and follow me this morning?”
“I don’t know.” Opening his preternatural senses, Quill looked at the cat again. But as far as he could tell, it was just a cat. “Ava was a powerful witch. Perhaps she bequeathed her magic to you in the same way she wrapped you in her protective spell.”
Callie nodded, but looked doubtful. She had told Quill about her adventure in the woods as soon as he rose that evening. She’d thought saying it out loud would somehow make it seem less bizarre. Instead, she was more confused than ever. Was it possible to transfer magic from one witch to another?
Mouth set in a determined line, she went into the vacant bedroom. After her walk, she had taken the suitcase carrying her grandmother’s books and things into the extra room. Humming softly, she unpacked the suitcase, then set up Ava’s cauldron, candles, and wand on the long sofa table she had dragged in from the living room.
Opening her grandmother’s grimoire, she perused the pages, looking for a spell that transferred magic from witch to witch.
She was dimly aware of Quill coming to stand behind her, of the cat making itself at home on the bed.
“Find anything?” Quill asked after several minutes.
“No.” She slammed the book shut, then turned to face him. “I guess I’m just being . . . I don’t know what.”
Resting his hands on her hips, he backed up, tugging her along. When his legs hit the mattress, he fell back, carrying Callie with him, so that she landed on top of him.
Ebony let out a screech, jumped off the bed, and bolted from the room.
“Stop worrying, love,” Quill said, sliding his hands up and down Callie’s back. “Your grandmother was an incredibly powerful witch. It stands to reason that you would have inherited at least some of her power.” He cupped her face in his palms, his eyes hot. “You’ve certainly worked your magic on me.” And so saying, he claimed her lips with his.
Callie surrendered to the thrill of his mouth on hers, the crush of his arms holding her close, the feel of his chest beneath her breasts. His tongue stroked hers, igniting little fires of desire in the pit of her stomach. She ground her hips against his, felt his immediate response, and knew she’d gone too far. “Quill. . . . ”
He groaned deep in his throat. “Don’t move.”
She stilled instantly, remembering that his desire and his thirst were closely entwined. At this moment, she didn’t want to arouse either one.
His eyes were closed, his breathing rapid, his whole body rigid beneath hers.
He took a ragged breath. And then another. And then he rolled onto his side, carrying her with him. Needing some time alone to tamp down his desire and his hunger, he said “Why don’t you go start dinner? I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
A quick nod and she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and left the room, careful not to run. He was a predator, she reminded herself. And she was prey.
In the kitchen, Callie stared out the window into the darkness beyond. There was no doubt she was playing with fire, she thought. The attraction between them seemed to burn hotter and stronger with every passing day. It might be in her best interest to ease that desire before it got out of hand.
Her grandmother’s admonition not to surrender her chastity until she was certain she was giving it to the right man whispered in the back of Callie’s mind.
She blew out a sigh. She thought Quill was the right man.