Wicked Wings (Lizzie Grace #5) - Keri Arthur Page 0,35
that makes sense.”
He scraped a hand through his unruly hair, sending broken bits of leaves and twigs flying. “I agree. But, holy fuck—your mother almost died, so by all accounts you certainly should have.”
I shrugged. “The wellspring was brand-new. So was I. Maybe that’s why I survived what would kill most.”
“History is littered with tales of strong witches trying—and failing—to embrace the wild magic. You were little more than an embryo; it should have simply fried you.”
“Perhaps that’s the very reason she did survive,” Belle said. “Her cells were so new they were able to adapt.”
“Maybe.” He shook his head and smiled. “I guess if nothing else, it’s going to be interesting to see where all this ends. But if it does happen to kill you, can I submit my observations to the council?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, but I hope you understand my fervent wish that never happens.”
His grin flashed. “Well, of course, but hey, one has to ask these things, just in case.”
“One really doesn’t,” Belle said dryly. “What’s the plan, then? Are we dropping you off at Aiden’s car, or are you going home?”
“I notice you didn’t give the option of going back to the café.” His hurt expression was somewhat spoiled by the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “One would think you didn’t want me around or something.”
“One could also remember that it’s damn late. I need my beauty sleep.”
“Anyone who says that is a liar. You’re perfect, eye bags or not.”
Belle rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Monty?”
He simply grinned. “You can drop me back at my place. It’s too early for me to sleep, so I’ll fiddle with the feathers and see if I can create a tracker.”
“Done. Let’s go, Hopalong.”
He snorted, but nevertheless followed. I hesitated, then quickly created a simple alert spell—adding an exception for small animals—and wove it around the perimeter of the rocks.
“If the shifter is at all sensitive to magic, that’s not going to work,” Monty commented.
“I know, but it’s still worth trying.” I wove a couple of strands of wild magic through the spell to ensure it fed off that rather than me, and then tied it off and followed Monty and Belle out of the clearing.
As we neared the main road, the wild magic encircling my wrist released and drifted away. It once again left me feeling oddly bereft.
We drove Monty to his place and watched until he was safely inside, before driving off. Once we were home, I made us both a cup of hot chocolate and then headed upstairs to do some more reading. Aiden hadn’t rung by the time I’d finished my drink, so I went to bed. While no dreams hit, I remained restless, unable to escape the feeling that trouble was coming our way—fast.
I woke up earlier than usual and went downstairs to make myself a revitalization potion and do the few final bits of prep for the café. We were busy all day, and Aiden, Ashworth, and Monty were all conspicuous by their absence. Which was frustrating, because I really wanted to know what—if anything—had been uncovered last night.
My phone finally rang just as we were finishing for the day, the ringtone telling me it was Aiden.
“Busy day, I’m gathering,” I said by way of hello.
“Yeah.” Tiredness was etched into his voice. “Do you mind if I call it a night and go home?”
Disappointment slithered through me, but I kept my voice light. “No sex for two nights in a row—are you sure you’ll survive, Ranger?”
He laughed softly. “Even a werewolf has to sleep sometimes.”
“I’ve seen little enough evidence of that so far.”
“Says the witch who wakes me at all hours.”
“I told you, I have many years of abstinence to catch up on.”
“And I’m more than happy to meet that demand. Just not tonight.”
I chuckled softly. “Come over for breakfast tomorrow, then, if you want.”
“I will, thanks. Oh, and while I think about it, you up for dinner tomorrow night?”
“Is this a regular dinner date or the mysterious one?”
“The latter.”
“Sure. We going anywhere fancy?”
“Yes.”
“And you won’t tell me where?”
“No. It’s a surprise.”
“I hate surprises.”
“So I’m discovering. Night, gorgeous. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
I harrumphed. “I only ever let certain werewolves bite me.”
He chuckled and hung up. Almost immediately, the phone rang again. It was Monty.
“What’s up?”
“I need transport.”
“Then call a cab. Or an Uber.”
“Not that sort of transport.” His tone was annoyed. “I think I can track our shifter, but I can’t drive and follow the directional spell at the same time.”