The Witch And The Werewolf. Michele HaufЧитать онлайн книгу.
tooth?” Lars called as she slipped back into the kitchen. “Peanut has had a tooth for two months. Heh. You’re ahead of your time, my boy. Also, he might start to roll over. Is that so? You want to give it a go, Peanut?”
Whispering thanks to Demeter, the goddess of harvest, and snapping her fingers over the sauce, Mireio imbued it with a touch of love and confidence. It was difficult not to create something to eat without adding a spell. She’d been doing it forever. Nothing intrusive. But Lars could probably use the boost to his confidence. Goddess knows he must have been going through heck these past few months. But to judge from the infant giggles in the next room he was managing remarkably well.
Peanut, eh? That was a horrible name for a child to grow up with. She’d have to work on Lars, help him come up with something before the kid got too attached to the name.
Assembling the dish with layers of zucchini, cheese and sauce, she then put the glass baking dish in the stove and set the timer. Pouring two goblets of honey IPA from the growler she always kept stocked in the fridge, she then strolled into the living room.
Lars lay on his side facing Peanut; the baby was sleeping. “Sometimes I can’t get over how much I like staring at him.” Wonder touched his tone as Lars said, “I made this little guy.”
“That you did. Or at least, you helped. I’m pretty sure the woman had a lot to do with it too. Brewing the little tyke for nine months and all.” She handed him a beer as he sat up and leaned against the couch. The open book lay near his leg. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”
“I already told you how me and Peanut’s mom got together.”
“Right, but do you think she might come back for her boy? I mean, after a few years? What if she has a change of heart? Or if her biological clock starts ticking? Wouldn’t that crush you?”
Lars ran his fingers back through his hair, pulling it into a ponytail behind him, then releasing it with a growl. “It would annihilate me.”
The alpha wolf lived inside him. And she had felt his protective instincts in that growl.
“I’m already so attached to him I couldn’t imagine not having him around,” he said. “But Peanut’s mom won’t come back. She had stars in her eyes. No desire to spend her days in a tiny cabin in the woods. She was pretty adamant about starting a new life in Africa.”
“Did you offer to marry her?”
“Didn’t have a chance. To be honest? I’m not sure I would have. We only knew each other two days. And we didn’t share a lot of conversation in that time, if you know what I mean. But had she decided to give motherhood a go, I would have never backed down on my obligation to raise my son. I’m relieved, actually, that she thought to give me a chance to raise him instead of going the adoption route.”
Mireio stroked the hair that spilled down his shoulders, then realized what she was doing and tugged her hand to her lap. He turned to look over his shoulder at her. “Whatever you’re making, it smells great.”
“Half an hour and you can test it. I hope you like oregano and garlic. How’s the IPA?”
“Awesome. I can taste the honey.”
“Got it from Valor’s hives. So you’ve worked with her and her bees?”
He waggled his hand before him in an indecisive gesture. “I sold her some queens and suggested some good places to order equipment. Her honey is distinctively different from field honey. She lives in a city and has hives on the top of her building. That forces the bees to forage for flowers far and wide and they visit a greater variety of flowers, which makes for a robust honey.”
“Do your bees produce a lot of honey?”
“Oh, yeah. I have to give most of it away because I’d never be able to go through it all. You want some?”
“I can always use honey, especially for baking. How do you do all that processing of honey in your little place? I didn’t see any equipment.”
“I keep it in storage at the pack compound over the winter. I’m hoping to build a room for storing my apiary and honey equipment with the addition. And an extra room for Peanut’s bedroom.”
“Do you know how lucky Peanut is to have a dad like you?”
He toggled the toe end of Peanut’s sleeper. “You didn’t see me that first month I had him. I was pretty crazed. And a walking zombie from lack of sleep. Wasn’t sure which end was up on the poor kid and was pretty damn surprised how much stuff tends to come out of both ends. For the first time I truly believed a dirty diaper could kill a man.”
She laughed and tucked her legs up onto the couch. Lars turned and she patted the cushion beside her so he moved up to sit beside her, making sure not to step on the sleeping baby.
“But by the end of the second month I’d gotten into a routine. I actually have one of those planner apps on my phone. I don’t know how all the moms do it without a calendar and a personal secretary. Just call me Mr. Mom now.”
“Mr. Dad more like it. You rock the single dad role. It’s good for a kid to have a dad or mom.”
“Or? You don’t believe they need both?”
Mireio shrugged. “Not necessarily. I never knew my dad. And my mom...” She sighed, memories unexpectedly rushing to the fore. Though she’d long ago shed all the tears. A glance to the mantel over the hearth landed on the photo of her and her mom. Jessica Malory had auburn hair that hung to her waist and a smile that could have stopped wars. “She died when I was eight. I was raised by my grandma.”
“Really? That’s tough. Or was it?”
“Sometimes. I mean, it’s been twenty years. But at the time, I was old enough to miss my mom, and her death was very traumatic.” And she’d avoid telling him about that for fear of being reduced to blubbering tears. “But grandma was awesome. And you know with witches, if we’ve performed an immortality spell, we can look young for a very long time. Grandma looks like a fashion model from the sixties with her long brown hair and she seriously still wears bell-bottoms.”
“You mentioned something about focusing on a spell. Does that mean you’ve performed the immortality spell I’ve heard about? Or are planning to?”
“That means I’m at this very moment prepared to do it. I’ve been thinking about it a lot over the past few years, and I’m ready.”
“I think I know that spell requires a vampire, right?”
“You got it. It’s never pretty for the vampire. We witches call them a source.”
Lars lifted a brow. “Yes, but the vamps call those vampires ash.”
“There is that result. And before you think I intend to destroy another soul to extend my own life, I’ll have you know that I’ve hired a witch to track down one of the meanest and vilest vampires. One who has killed and is a danger to society.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me. I mean, if you take out a bad one. Vamps who kill to get blood when they only need a little to survive? That’s unconscionable. I had no idea there was an actual person, though, that tracks down vamps specifically for you witches and your spells.”
“It’s Raven Crosse. She used to be a vampire hunter until she married a vampire. Now she does the search on the side for a very select clientele. And she costs a fortune.”
“How much?”
Mireio pressed the glass rim to her lips, then shook her head. “I’d rather not say. Suffice it to say, it’s something I want. Desperately. So it was worth the price.”
“The idea of one lifetime doesn’t sit well with you?”
“Nope.” And could they change the subject please? If she had to tell him how traumatized she’d actually been by her mother’s death she’d burst out in tears, and that