Entangled Secrets. Pat Esden

Entangled Secrets - Pat Esden


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      He raised a hand to ward off the words. “Sorry. I thought… I am an idiot. I completely get it. I am not exactly—”

      “It’s not you. I just—” Shit. It was her fault. He’d misinterpreted the way she looked at him, again. “I couldn’t even consider going out with anyone right now, not with everything that’s going on. I need to focus on Peregrine.” That was politely general and true. But it also wasn’t the answer her body wanted to give. It whispered that spending alone time with Lionel could be a lot of fun. She liked tall men. She liked thin men. He made her smile. She’d dated black men before, and guys with energy that hadn’t been anywhere near as tempting as his. For Goddess’s sake, the guy had thrown himself over her and Peregrine in the alley to protect them from a hellhound. Peregrine even seemed to like him.

      However, there was a huge issue. Once they corrected the damage Rhianna’s spell had caused and were satisfied that Lionel would remain quiet about magic and the witching world, then he’d have to go back to Boston or even farther away—somewhere his connection to them would be permanently severed, like Gar had suggested. Severed so completely that the Council could never catch wind of any involvement between him and their world. It wasn’t fair to encourage Lionel into thinking there could ever be a place for him here, by agreeing to a date or even a one-time fling.

      “Hey,” Devlin said, walking into the workshop.

      Chandler let out a relieved breath. “Perfect timing. I was about to call you.”

      Devlin frowned as if he sensed he’d intruded on something. “What’s going on?”

      Chandler glanced toward Lionel, careful to not let her eyes linger this time. Now that she thought about it, Lionel wasn’t so much a good-looking version of Ichabod Crane as a wild-haired version of a taller and younger John Legend. Really nice.

      She clenched her teeth, driving that thought from her head, and instead focused on Devlin. “I finished the charm. It should help until Chloe and Em find the spell.”

      “That’s great.” Devlin turned to Lionel. “I’m not sure if you’re fully aware of the extent of the danger the sight poses. Fae don’t like it when people can see them. They don’t just attack. They’ll aim to kill, or at a minimum, blind you.”

      Lionel’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “More like a horror movie than Disney?”

      “Exactly.” Devlin rested back on his heels. “After you left to come out here, we discussed your situation a bit more. If it’s okay with Chandler, we’d like to invite you to stay at the complex until we find the spell and perform it. No charge. Free food and wi-fi. We’re worried about your safety. Wearing a triskelion is smart. But it’s not a guarantee.”

      “Good idea,” Chandler said. After the “want to go to dinner” thing, him staying at the complex would be a little awkward. But they were adults and she didn’t want to see Lionel in danger. Besides, last week when Brooklyn and Midas had paid Lionel a visit to discover if he truly was a threat to the witching world’s anonymity, they’d said the motel he was staying at was a cockroach pit.

      Lionel shook his head. “I appreciate the offer. But I have to say no.” He hugged his arms close to his chest. “I want to go through with whatever it takes to right the damage from the spell. But a lot has happened in the last few hours. I need space and time to think everything through.”

      A sick feeling tugged at Chandler. “Before—when I said no to your offer—I didn’t intend to make you feel unwelcome.”

      Devlin jumped in. “I meant what I said about not forcing you into anything.”

      Lionel smiled at Devlin, then met Chandler’s eyes. “It’s not you. Not either of you. It’s me. I didn’t just see the black dog. I saw the skin cut from my friend’s body. I saw it made into a charm. I know Rhianna was responsible for those things. But my head is reeling. I don’t trust myself or my instincts right now. I need to step back and think before I make any more decisions.” His smile widened. “I’m assuming if I change my mind, the offer will still stand?”

      “Of course, you’re welcome anytime. Day or night,” Chandler said.

      But a horrible feeling twisted deep inside her chest. As much as he denied it, she couldn’t believe her refusing his advances hadn’t played a role in this incredibly unwise decision.

      Chapter 9

      Hang in there. It’s better to be the witch with one true friend

      than part of the popular crowd because of your wealth and family name.

      Hugs and kisses, Mom

      —Note scribbled on Greylock Academy’s Guidance Office letterhead

      After Lionel left and she was finished reviewing Peregrine’s dangerous fae location list, Chandler put on a white caftan and the moonstone rings that she’d inherited from her adoptive mom. Then she and Peregrine headed up the driveway toward the back entry to the coven’s garden. Tonight, for the first time as a high priestess, she’d lead the full-moon ritual. She’d also decided it was time to give Peregrine the added responsibility of carrying the lighter he’d use at the end of the ritual, as part of his expanding role as a witch with abilities.

      She was mulling over the wisdom of the lighter decision when Peregrine came to an abrupt halt in front of where Devlin’s apartment was attached to the coven’s garage. He looked up at her. “Mama, are you going to take me out of school?”

      It took a second for what he’d said to register. It was something she’d contemplated earlier. How else could she keep him safe now that he had the sight? Fending off fae attacks wasn’t exactly something the average public-school teacher was prepared for.

      “I’m not scared of faeries.” He pouted. “Please. I don’t want to be homeschooled.”

      It broke her heart, but she had to be honest. “I’m not sure we have a choice anymore.”

      His voice edged upward. “Schools aren’t on the dangerous place list. I have my triskelion. We could make some spray like Keshari has for demons.”

      “The spray is a great suggestion,” she said, hoping to soothe his frustration before it turned into a tantrum. Truly, it was a good thought. Though demons and the fae were old adversaries—both forever vying for domination over humans and witches—the spray Chloe’s friend Keshari had made, based on Tibetan shamanism, probably could be tweaked to work on faeries as well. She stashed the idea in the back of her mind, then gave Peregrine’s cheek a light stroke, infused with comforting energy.

      His eyes widened. “You really think the spray would work?”

      “We can talk to Keshari about it. But no matter what, you’re going to have to stay home until we get everything figured out.”

      “All right, I guess.” His voice took on a sly tone. “When I was reading the Good Folk book, I looked at some extra stuff.”

      “You did?” She was surprised he’d had time for that.

      “Did you know black dogs aren’t always bad? It said so in the addendum.” He sounded out the last word with special care. “Some black dogs are benevolent. That means they are nice. Some even guard treasures.”

      “No, I didn’t realize that,” Chandler said. She actually hadn’t had time to think about the black dog in depth at all. “But you’re still going to have to stay home for a few days.”

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