The Witch's Quest. Michele HaufЧитать онлайн книгу.
cruel reminder. That had to suck.
“You got some magic to get us out of here?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
“I do love a decisive woman.”
“Aw, you love me?” Valor flicked him a flirty wink over her shoulder. “Find me something silver, will you?”
“Okay. There’s gotta be silver in a werewolf hunter’s cabin.” Kelyn looked around.
The shuffling Valor suddenly heard, which should have been Kelyn pushing things around on the shelves, sounded—when she thought about it—more like...hooves.
She spun around to face the stuffed deer. Which was no longer inanimate. Its eyes glowed white and its obsidian hoof pawed the dirt floor.
“Kelyn!”
“Found something that looks like a silver arrowhead. Though it’s corroded.” He turned and saw the same thing she did. “No kidding?”
“Toss me the arrow. Or better yet. Can you—”
“Got it!” He lunged for the buck as the beast charged Valor. The faery leaped and landed on the deer’s back, one arm wrapping about its wide, strong neck.
Valor dropped and rolled across the dirt floor, out of the animal’s charging path. It didn’t slow, bowing its head and aiming its magnificent rack at the closed door. Kelyn stabbed at the beast, landing the arrowhead in its chest as its antlers collided with the door. The protection spell fizzled, bursting out brilliant orange flames from around the door. The steel door blew off the shed, and the deer raced through with Kelyn riding its back.
“Can’t say I’ve seen anything like that before,” Valor muttered as she stood and brushed the dirt off her jeans. “Cool.”
She wandered through the door to find Kelyn standing before a stuffed deer. He tugged the arrowhead out of its chest. The magic that had reanimated the deer had ceased the moment it left the shed.
Valor marched over and smoothed a hand over the stuffed animal’s nose. “No one will believe this.”
“Welcome to my world.” Kelyn tossed the arrowhead in the air and caught it smartly. “Let’s get out of here. Can you fit the door back into the frame?”
“Seriously? After the mess we made in there, you think replacing the door...?”
He did have a way of challenging her right in the witchcraft with his castigating, yet also kinda sexy furrowed brow.
Summoning her air magic, Valor whispered a rising spell and the door lifted and slammed back into the frame. Not at all the gentle fit-back-into-the-door-frame action she had been going for, but... “It’ll do. What are we going to do about that thing?”
He smoothed a palm over the deer’s back. “I like to think Marx will have a hell of a time figuring this one out when he returns.”
“I like your thinking.”
They wandered back to the car at the end of the drive, and after getting in the car Valor tugged out her cell phone. She perused the Delta flight schedule while Kelyn drove out and headed back to Tangle Lake. He was using the GPS on his phone and she knew it drove him buggy. Faeries were natural navigators. Poor guy. But, much as she wanted to, she wouldn’t bring it up or apologize.
A ten-minute cruise down the main highway brought the Firebird to the exit for Tangle Lake. It was late, and not a lot of cars were out and about. Valor didn’t live far from the exit.
“There’s a flight to Australia tomorrow afternoon,” she said. “You know your credit card number?”
“I do. Book the tickets.”
“Sounds like a plan. Flying over an entire ocean is not going to be as fun as tonight was.”
“You’re not much for flying?”
“That’s putting it euphemistically. Okay, give me your number.”
He relayed his number to her while parking before her building. The autoconfirm promised an email soon. When Valor opened the door and stuck out a leg, he grabbed her forearm, stopping her from leaving.
“Thanks for tonight,” he said. “We work well together.”
“That we do. Thanks for trusting me. This spell will work, Kelyn. I promise that.”
He nodded. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow a couple hours before the flight.”
“See you then. Thanks!”
As the Firebird rolled away, Valor had to stop herself from giving a little wave in its wake. Like hey, yeah, that was fun. Just spending time with the guy had been fun. And watching him ride the deer? She had to tell her friends about that one.
With a sigh, she wandered toward her building. The feeling that she should have leaned over and kissed him in thanks for the adventure was strong. A missed opportunity. Generally, she was a take-life-by-the-horns-and-ride-it kind of chick.
She knew why she was skittish around Kelyn. Same reason she’d given up on ever finding love. Men didn’t consider her a woman. She simply wasn’t...
“A real girl,” she said, and followed that with another heart-clenching sigh.
Had she been able to accomplish the spell that night in the Darkwood, would she be singing a different tune now?
Could Kelyn ever see her as a woman?
Because she wanted to kiss him again. No, she needed to.
Valor sat up on the couch, blew the tangled hair from her face and...dropped back into a dead sleep, falling forward to land her face against the hardwood arm. That woke her up again. And this time she heard the pounding and insistent knock at her door.
“Valor?”
Sounded like Kelyn’s voice. Why was he at her home...she glanced toward the windows...in the middle of the night?
Her eyelids fluttered and she dropped into sleep again, this time her head falling to the side and hitting the soft leather back of the couch.
A rude meow sounded and she shook out of sleep. “No. Need to sleep. Have...flight...in morning, Mooshi.”
“Valor, are you ready to go?” Kelyn called from the other side of her front door.
“Go?” She glanced toward the kitchen, seeing beyond the row of beer bottles and that one empty vodka bottle—curse her weakness for the hard stuff—where the time flashed in bright green LEDs on the stove. “Marcus Welby! It’s time!”
She dragged herself off the couch and scrambled to the door, opening it. Kelyn breezed in.
“We’ve got to go,” he said. “The flight leaves in an hour and a half, and it takes forty-five minutes to get to the airport. What the—are you not ready to go?” He reached for her head, and though Valor dodged his touch, he managed to snag his fingers in her hair. And that was possible because of the tangles. “You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday. And...you smell like a brewery.”
“Yeah? Well, I do work at a brewery, smart guy.”
“Not yesterday.”
“Fine! I couldn’t sleep,” she muttered, her tongue still heavy with sleep and the remnants of a good drunk. Hell, the drunk was still with her, bless the goddess. Because it was a necessity. “I hate flying, and I’m always nervous the night before. I haven’t slept. And yet...I think I must have fallen asleep, like, half an hour ago. I am so wasted.”
He caught her in his arms and held her upright. “You drink to relax?”
“Beer usually calms me. Vodka seemed