Page 65 of Love & Heart Braking

I cared not. I jerked my head. “Nice lake. Belong to your coven?”

“My family,” she answered. “Me.”

And that was all the small talk I could be bothered summoning. “Can we get to it then?”

The witch simply turned and walked out of the water. I trailed after her to a slight rise. On top of the rise rested a stone slab surrounded by torches. Vera began to chant and strode in a ring around the slab slotting crystals into settings on the torch holders. Some crystals were purple, some black, and some cloudy white.

“Lay upon the slab, Miss Concordia,” she instructed in a ringing voice.

I dropped my tote next to the slab, then hoisted myself on top, lying flat. Brr. Cold.

“This thing cannot be in the circle,” Vera said in displeasure, eyeing my bag.

“Move it then.”

She grabbed the strap and heaved. Her eyes bugged, and she grunted, trying again. After a few more attempts, she straightened, smoothing her gown. “The bag will stay.”

Damn right it would. “Will this hurt?”

“The curse is shaking your magic.”

So that was a yes. “Oh shit. Hold on.”

“Please do not use foul language in my circle.”

I muttered a halfhearted apology for the cultural faux pas and dug around in my tote. Kicking off my boots, I drew on my black heels, then resumed my position on the stone slab.

Vera’s gaze dragged from the pearl ankle fastening of the heels to my face.

“Ready,” I announced.

“If it grows too painful, let me know,” she said. “Otherwise, I will continue until my magical reserve is spent.”

Yeah. Three years of this thing… I’d put up with a whole heap of pain to loosen it by even another percent. “Don’t stop until you’re spent, Vera. Even if I scream for you to sever the connection. Don’t you dare stop before you’re spent.”

“If that is your wish.”

It really was. “Hey, did you ever meet up with the oracle?”

Her cheeks colored. “I did. Viderum and I have met three times already.”

Three times, huh? “You like him.” I could feel her heart singing. “A lot.”

“I find it hard to trust men after Rofnee.” The witch looked as uncertain as I’d ever seen her.

And maybe that was her journey—to conquer her fear of trusting another. “Trust is found one step at a time. Try not to lump the old in with the new would be my advice.”

She cleared her throat. “Yes. I have read that I must identify the behaviors that are reactions from unexplored implicit memories.”

Oh boy. “Right. Uh, if you overreact over something, then that may be something to reflect on.”

Vera brightened. “That’s what it means?”

No idea.

Her sudden energy dropped. “What would classify as an overreaction?”

Curiosity killed the cupid. Why did I even ask? “Cursing a woman because your ex went on a date with her would classify as an overreaction. That kind of stuff. Yelling at him because you’re hungry. I don’t know.” How did this woman have her own lake?

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