Spell Cat by Tara Lain Page 0,60

will see to that.”

She couldn’t seem too compliant. “You know I have no stomach for this wedding either, so if Killian has found a better way, I’ll support him.”

He used his best glower. “There is no better way, Lavender. You were born for this marriage, and you will go through with it.”

She smiled tightly. “Of course, Father. If it’s the only way.” The bastard.

Evangeline hung up the phone. Killian was in love with someone? She had thought he had some other idea entirely. She shivered. Actually, she’d thought he had found out. Surely this was better for all of them. She wanted her son to be happy. Well, as long as it didn’t compromise her whole life and all she’d worked for. She didn’t have to be related to Karonoff. Gods, the man was a tyrant and a royal pain in the ass. Having the Witch Master for a son was power enough. If Killian had a better way to marry off Lavender without his being the groom, more power to him. She chuckled at her own joke. Of course, Nicholas Karonoff was no joke. She’d call the council and see what happened.

Chapter Twenty-One

Blaine stared at his laptop screen. No use. He’d been trying to chat with a mathematician friend in Turkey, but he couldn’t seem to focus. He typed a farewell and closed the laptop. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the shelves beside his desk. He needed something good to read. Maybe Niels Bohr? No. Something lighter would be better. A novel. His hand traced the shelf. John Updike. Yes—no. The Witches of Eastwick.

A searing pain ripped through him. No. Don’t think. His throat tightened. Fight it. Heat filled his head. Stop. He dropped his head to the desk. Stop. Tears ran down his cheeks like rain after a thunderstorm. Thunder like Killian’s symphony.

Surrender. His shoulders shook; breath caught in his throat. Might die from no air. Didn’t care. How could this happen? Life had made sense. No more. He’d never been in love, and then…. Killian. The beautiful. The perfect. The insane. People didn’t think they were witches. Not in his world. No, God, no. Couldn’t love a man who truly believed he was a witch. But he did. He loved him as he never thought he could love anyone or anything.

He sat back and wiped his eyes. Enough. Think about this logically. He loved Killian. Couldn’t get around it. He wasn’t dumb, so there had to be some reason for loving the man. Well, duh—about a million reasons. Everything about the guy was special: his great mind, wonderful sensitivity, beautiful face, fun humor. Yeah, and the sex. That was supernatural, for sure. So if all those things were right, how could he account for the witch business?

He got up and walked into his kitchen, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and carried it out to the chair by the bay window. Hypothesis one. Killian’s crazy. But he knew the man, and crazy didn’t add up. Besides, there was that very convincing display of fact in the park. Burning bushes could happen, but not usually out of a clear sky on a sunny day. He could rationalize all he wanted, but the chances that it was heat lightning? Slim, meet none. Okay, hypothesis two. Killian’s a witch. There are no such things as witches, so back to hypothesis one.

He sipped the beer. Come on, Genneau, use your brain. Think outside the box. Killian’s claim and his demonstration shocked him. But Niels Bohr, the father of quantum physics, said, “Anyone who is not shocked by quantum theory has not understood it.” So forget for a moment the whole witch thing. One who understood quantum physics could admit the possibility that consciousness affects subatomic particles and that the universe was interconnected with faster-than-light transfers of information. So….

He leaned over and looked out the window. What if there were people who were good at affecting subatomic particles with their minds? Could he even entertain that possibility? And could Killian be one of them? Weird, wonderful Killian? Hell, if there was anyone on the planet who could do such a thing, it would be Killian. What had he said the other day? Killian’s mystery attracted him. Could the mystery be that Killian’s a, uh, special person, who can affect matter and energy directly? Otherwise known as a, uh, witch? He laughed. Maybe Aloysius was Schrödinger’s cat, the famous quantum thought experiment?

Okay, get serious, Genneau. One truth was for