Spell Cat by Tara Lain Page 0,52
my own hands.”
“What on earth does that mean?”
“I think you have a good idea. Someone is manipulating the truth. I hope it isn’t you.”
“Killian, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Call me again when you can be respectful.”
“The times don’t call for respect, Mother. They call for truth.”
“Killian, you’ve lost your mind.” She clicked off.
He leaned back on the couch. Interesting. She couldn’t wait to get me off the phone. He wanted to believe the council was totally innocent, that all the tales of depletion were just a big misunderstanding, and that his mother loved him unconditionally. He also wanted to believe Santa Claus was gay.
More tea needed. He padded into the kitchen and poured boiling water into his pot. He’d have trouble calling together the council himself—the group of stubborn, powerful witches were disinclined to march to his tune. He’d have better luck with the community. The council had built up his image to the community because it aligned with their intentions. Now he could use that positive image against them. That was his rabbit in the hat. If the council saw him gathering the rank-and-file witches, they’d likely pay more attention to him.
He poured a cup and sat at the little table. Al sat on the seat opposite, his eyes just peeking over the table edge. Better not ask Lavender to help. There was no telling what her father might do, and she was too much in the line of fire. He’d wait until they were further along to reveal Lavender’s involvement.
“Sorry, Al, I forgot your breakfast.” He got up and spooned some salmon into Al’s pretty porcelain dish. He set it on the table, and Aloysius hopped up and started to eat. Killian picked up his teacup, leaned on the counter, and sipped. Who should he call first? Joe Soza and Elaine Indilitch came to mind. They were reasonably well-respected, but more importantly, they were blabbermouths. He’d tell them he wanted to gather the community at his home. Of course, he’d mean his mother’s home, but legally it was as much his as hers. He’d tell them it was important and ask their advice for how to best notify the witches’ rank and file. He smiled. “That should get the council’s attention in about fifteen minutes, don’t you think, Al?”
He set his cup down on the counter. First, he had to go to class. Since he wasn’t hiding from Blaine, he hadn’t quit his job. Blaine. It was stupid how much he longed to see the human. More than stupid. With all this going on with the council and his community, he didn’t need the distraction. Hell, all he wanted was the distraction. The last time with Blaine had been a kind of heaven he’d never thought he could have. But he was a witch—a fact he’d neglected to mention to Blaine. The human he had spelled into loving him. Killian dropped his head into his hands. Even witchery wasn’t as complicated as his love life.
“James!” Lavender giggled and ducked the nibbling lips that crept toward her ear. Her very sensitive ear. “You have to be more serious. Practice.” She stepped back to give him room, although the word room was clearly overstated in his postage-stamp apartment.
Jimmy moaned like a little kid and flopped onto the edge of his bed. “Oh, can’t I make love to you now, please, please?”
She put her hands on her hips. She wasn’t going to tell him how cute he was. “You’re likely going to be called upon to display your power, James. You have to be ready.” She giggled again. Only he made her resort to that silly sound, and she loved it. “Besides, we have been fucking nonstop since I found out you can’t deplete me.”
He looked up at her. Gods, she loved those big brown eyes. He smiled. “I can’t believe you still loved me when you thought I might be the death of everything you hold dear.”
She sat beside him and took his hand. “Not nearly everything. You’re more dear to me than power or duty, my love.”
He grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed. “Good, then we should fuck, don’t you think?”
“Practice first, sex after. Think of it as foreplay.” He sat up fast. That was one sure way to get his attention. He raised his hand, and three books lifted. He made a little circle with his fingers, and the books revolved, then returned to the overloaded desk.
She grinned. He was getting better.