Hail to the Queen (Witch For Hire 2)

He trails his knuckles down my side of my face. “I’m not belittling your situation. I know this is hard, and you have every right to be upset. But I encourage you to reserve your judgment and sort your feelings later when you aren’t coming off a gut reaction. You’re clouded by your emotions right now.”

“You expect me to excuse her behavior?”

“No. I want you to remember we all have monstrous moments. It doesn’t make us savage beasts. It makes us fallible humans.”

His words are everything I didn’t know I needed to hear. He kisses my forehead as the silence falls while I think on his words, and the vivid imagery I’ve lived. Sharing memories is more than a remote viewing. I was in his body. I struggle with reconciling the rabid creature with an insatiable lust for blood with the cultured man I know and love. I trail my fingers through his hair. I’ve never seen this vulnerable side of him.

“Thank you for sharing that with me. I get the point you’re trying to make, but I’m not ready to deal with it yet.”

“And you don’t have to. I brought you here to get away.”

I fall into the dark pools of his eyes and wonder what else he’ll share. The man is an enigma I’m still decoding one secret at a time.

“Enough sorrow, and painful memories. Let’s go explore the gardens. They’re a part of the reason why I brought you here. I know how much you love to immerse yourself in nature.”

“How did I get so lucky?” For forty-eight hours, I’m going to focus on this man, my bond mate, who I’m linked to for the rest of my days. The finality of the situation still shakes me to the core.

He cups my face and delivers a drugging kiss, clouding my mind, and carrying away the concerns and tension.

Chapter Ten

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; The speaker box chimes as the door swings open. I peer up from the desk and wonder briefly if the smartly dressed woman is in the wrong place. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask when she scans the room. Her gold and green elephant print dress and rose covered sunglasses are obviously designers. The two things alone could pay rent on the office for months, and that’s before I add in the leather purse at her side. Her plump lips are not ones that occur in nature. The deep maroon lip color contrasts with her perfectly highlighted golden-blonde locks, which tumble around her shoulders like she’s about to audition for a Herbal Essence commercial.

“Can we help you, ma’am?” Fel asks.

“I hope so. I have a …” She peers behind her like she anticipates being followed. Stepping inside, she closes and locks the door. “Problem with the new home my husband purchased. He may be in denial, as he travels for business and is rarely home, but I can no longer afford to ignore the incidents.” She clears her throat, and peers down at her French manicured fingernails. Her voice is cool, but I can detect the undercurrent of fear. “Before I say anything more, I need to be assured you can be discreet.”

“Of course, Mrs.?” Fel stands and moves toward her.

I lean back in my chair, content to observe, and let her take point. Of the three of us, Fel has the best people skills.

“Charlotte Addington.”

I bet you think that last name means something to us, don’t you?

“Please let me get you settled, Mrs. Addington.” Fel guides her over to the suede charcoal couch in our receiving area. “Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee, tea, or water, perhaps?”

I glance over at Sacha and arch an eyebrow. Is this chick for real, or are we being pranked? She shrugs her shoulder and shakes her head. We get all kinds. Half of them have problems we can explain with science. Hauntings and paranormal issues are rarer than most people believe.

Mrs. Addington has yet to remove her sunglasses. If the scandalized and the shamed expression on her slender, oval-shaped face?with impossibly perfect, asymmetrical features?is anything to go by, she wishes she was anywhere but here.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” Mrs. Addington’s voice is sugary sweet. A proper southern belle knows how to maintain impeccable manners in any situation, regardless of how awkward it is.

“Here at W.F.H., we work as a team to produce the best results. I’m Felicite, and I’ll be taking the lead in your case. These are my associates and co-owners, Sacha and Louella.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sacha says. I echo her statement as we join them both in the receiving area. I want to see her eyes. You can tell a lot about a person by merely locking gazes and watching their response. Everyone has tells, and body language is only altered by the consummate liar.

“Please, call me Charlotte,” she offers like an olive branch. “I must seem silly to you, showing up here in oversized sunglasses, but people in my neighborhood live for gossip. A person in my situation does not dabble in the occult. I can’t risk damaging my husband’s good name. Surely you understand that?”

We’re being insulted and asked for help in the same breath. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. I grit my teeth and hold my tongue.

“Of course, Charlotte. We know these things can be scary and hard to believe if you’ve never experienced a paranormal event. So, we understand your concerns about people possibly misinterpreting things. I assure you we are well-versed in the art of subtlety. We never reveal our clientele list.”

Thank God, Fel’s taken the lead on this case. She handles the blonde bombshell with warmth and professionalism.

“Can you tell us what brought you here today?” Sacha asks, gently steering them toward the main event.