The Witch's Quest. Michele HaufЧитать онлайн книгу.
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Kelyn followed the witch into a familiar loft. She gestured for him to sit by the industrial steel kitchen counter that stretched a dozen feet and served as a divider between the cooking area and the rest of the vast, open space that made up half the upper floor of an old three-story business building. The businesses had vacated decades ago, and apartments were slowly taking over. Hipsters and yuppies and, apparently, witches, had moved in.
“This used to be my sister, Daisy Blu’s, place,” he remarked as he slid onto a wooden stool and crossed his arms. Looking over the loft, he recalled that Daisy’s decorating sense had been nil, and Valor’s wasn’t much more evident. Though she did have a motorcycle sitting in the corner before the eight-foot-high windows that overlooked the street. A street bike. Its back fender sat beside it on the floor, and a black metal toolbox sprawled tools beside that.
“Yep. When Daisy moved in with Beck a couple years ago, I grabbed this place. Love it. And the freight elevator fits my bike.”
“Nice. So you have no desire to live in Anoka, closer to the brewery?”
“Do you know that Anoka is infested with ghosts? And I have an affinity for seeing ghosts. So not cool. I prefer Tangle Lake. Just far enough away from the suburbs, but I can still get to work in half an hour.”
“What is that noise?”
“I’m vacuuming. You should see it swing around soon. It’s over behind the bed right now.”
“One of those robotic things?”
“Yes. I am allergic to housework, so I have my cat do it.”
“Uh-huh.” He wasn’t even sure where to start with that one, so decided to drop it for now. And a cat? Yeesh. Not his favorite domesticated animal.
Kelyn turned toward the counter to find Valor leaning on it with her elbows. If he were not mistaken, he should take that wide-eyed, dreamy gaze as somewhat smitten. But he probably was mistaken. Reading women was his forte. But reading witches? Not.
“So, this list.” He shoved the wrinkled blue paper he’d kept toward her. “That’s it?”
“And a few more essentials that are required for most spells. Herbs. Crystals. Rat skulls and angel dust. But I’ve got all that stuff.”
“You have angel dust?” He knew that was a precious commodity and hard to come by.
“Sure. Got some from Zen, your brother’s girlfriend. I used it for the spell in the—er...you want a beer?”
If he told the chick who worked at a brewery that beer—any kind of alcohol—wasn’t to his taste, and he much preferred water, would that annoy her?
Why was he worried about annoying her? He had no stake in whether or not she liked or hated him. All that mattered was she had a plan to help him get back his wings.
“Just water, please.”
She quirked a brow. Judging him. Whatever.
“Fine. I think we should collect the ingredients in the order I’ve written them for you.” She filled a glass of water from the tap and handed it to him. “You know of any werewolves looking to donate a claw?”
“Not willingly. But Trouble does have a beef with a nasty bastard who keeps trying to mark my brother’s territory as his own. I could ask him about it. And if you know Trouble...” And he knew she did.
“The guy likes a good fight.”
“Always.” And that was enough mention of his oldest brother. “So, once we get all these things and you invoke the spell, what, exactly, do we do in Faery?”
“Uh, find your wings?”
He stared at her for the few moments he thought it would take for her to rationalize that insane statement. But in the process, Kelyn got lost in a shimmery brown gleam. Her eyes twinkled like stars during twilight. It couldn’t be real. He’d never seen such brilliant eyes before.
The witch snapped her fingers before his face, rudely bringing him up from what he realized was an openmouthed gape. “Uh...”
“You don’t want to find your wings?”
“I do, but Faery is immense. It’s larger than...well, the world, I’m sure.”
“It’s another realm. I get that. But the reason I chose this spell over another that also opened a portal is that this one homes us in on the item we seek. If all goes well, we should walk in. See the wings. Grab them. And get the hell out of Dodge.”
“Sounds too easy.”
“Sounds like a fun ride on the wild side.” She pulled open the fridge door and took out a beer, twisted off the cap and tossed that in a mason jar half-filled with bottle caps. The brown beer bottle sported the Decadent Dames label on the side. “So why don’t you give Trouble a call?”
“Why don’t you?” Kelyn asked.
Valor slammed the bottle on the counter. And he immediately regretted his accusing tone. “What do you think went on between your brother and me? Because if you think anything beyond friendship happened—”
“It doesn’t matter.” He cut her off because he didn’t want to know. “You and I? We’re just working together toward a common goal. What you do with your free time is not my business.”
“You make it sound as if it bothers you. I can be friends with your family, Kelyn. I’m friends with Blade, too. And Daisy Blu. So get over yourself and don’t get your wings in such a twist.” She tilted back a swallow and then held the bottle to her chest. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. You don’t have any, uh...”
“Valor.” Kelyn reached across the counter and grasped her hand, which startled her so much she set down the beer. “We’re good.”
“How can you say that?”
“I just did. Two words. We’re. Good. You don’t owe me anything. You don’t need to apologize. What happened was a result of a choice I made. And only I can live with that. You don’t get to share that with me. And while it pretty much knocked the wind out of my sails, I’m still here. And I’m doing something about it now. So if you want to help me, then do your witchy thing and stop trying to take the credit for something you didn’t do.”
“I...” She exhaled heavily.
It had been difficult to say all that. Because really? Part of Kelyn did blame the witch. If she hadn’t been in the Darkwood in the first place... But the wise, logical part of him knew that he’d had total control over what had happened in the forest that day four months earlier. And he was no man to put the blame on anyone else.
“Fine. I can do that. I mean, I want to do that,” she said. “But please have patience with me because it’s much easier to say than to do.”
“I get that.”
“I like you, Kelyn. You’re a good guy. Faery. How are you without your wings? I need to know.”
“I’m the same as ever. Except I can’t fly, can’t shift to small shape and I’ve the strength of a regular human man now. Otherwise? Peachy.”
She began to frown, but he put up an admonishing finger. “Forward. For both of us. Okay?” He offered a hand for her to shake.
Valor shook it. “Deal. You call your brother. Let’s go kick some werewolf ass.”
“I’m cool with that—what?”
The rhythmic hum of the vacuum alerted Kelyn to the robotic disk that glided toward the kitchen.