No, she didn’t consider herself a victim.
And that gave me no right to continue seeing her that way either.
“It doesn’t stop me from wishing there was another way,” I rasped. “I didn’t want this for her.”
“Colby is special.” Asa trailed his fingers down my arm. “She was never going to have an ordinary life.”
Once upon a time, she would have, if the Silver Stag hadn’t chosen her.
Clay’s fan club descended upon him then, stealing him away, drinks sloshing over their hands.
Head resting on Asa’s shoulder, I watched the crime scene recede to swirling blue waters. It should have been calming, but I kept fixating on the call from the girls, on the stranger in town, and I couldn’t settle.
Samford only had room for one black witch.
And it was me.
* * *
The elevator took approximately fifty forevers to haul us up to our suites, and we broke apart to ready ourselves for the next steps. Daytime trips, like the one to the fort, required us to mingle with humans in sunlight, but the real hunting always happened at night.
Once I settled Colby in her room, I wrote her a to-do list then let her get to work.
It felt a little like assigning homework. Too bad she didn’t get GED credits for these projects.
The guys were waiting for me at their tiny kitchen table, staring down at the busy intersection below. A line was forming for a popular restaurant across the way, and there was commotion over a homeless man canvassing the diners for leftovers as they exited the building.
“I have four hours.” Clay watched the ensuing chaos. “Then I have to meet Glinda and her pals.”
“You don’t have to go,” I pointed out. “You could bow out of their faux witch faux orgy.”
“There will be nothing faux about the orgy.” His eyes twinkled. “Want me to send proof?”
“Pics or it didn’t happen?” I scoffed at the old joke. “No thanks and no evidence required. Seriously. Do not send any, or I will hurt you.”
“That’s why our friendship can weather any storm,” he informed me. “Our foundation is bedrock.”
I would have compared it to a flotation device, given the storm analogy, but that would have opened the door for Clay to walk through with a joke about boobs. He might be as old as dirt, but his sense of humor belonged on a guy waiting for his first chin hair to sprout.
“That, and we stay out of each other’s business.” I thumped his ear. “Mostly.”
Head tilted, he squinted at me. “Do you really believe that?”
“No.” I blasted out a sigh. “But it doesn’t hurt to dream, right?”
Before I pulled out a third chair, Asa caught me by the hips and set me on his lap.
“Hey.” I popped his hands. “I’m here to work.”
“I’m aware.” He trailed a finger down my spine, and I shivered under his touch. “I won’t interfere.”
There was no room for thought when he touched me like that, a gentle exploration of wants and needs that had never been met until me.
The mistletoe necklace should have been my gift. To him. He deserved a way to ask, without words or awkward overtures, for the affection he craved in a manner obvious to us both until we got the hang of this couple thing. But I never would have thought of it on my own. Not in a million years.
Even now, with a button to press in the event of a smooch emergency, I hesitated to lift the safety glass.
Every.