Page 73 of Bewitching Her Monsters

“And she just let him in?” Arran growls the question.

“I’m sorry. I really thought she was innocent. But if he was an abusive ex-boyfriend, as she claims, why would she let him inside without a hint of fear?”

“It doesn’t make sense.”

“No. It doesn’t,” I say, “Unless—”

We both say it together, “Osen?”

“Or does Rob have some spell on her?” Arran suggests.

“She’s compromised… no matter what,” I say aloud, so we can solve this riddle. “It was clear that Rob assumed he could just come over. She’d let him in without argument or hesitation. Something nefarious is going on.”

When her door slowly opens, I duck behind the corner of the house I’ve been stationed next to and turn essentially invisible.

Arran peeks around my body.

The guy we assume is Rob shuts the door behind him and hurries away. Not quite running, but only slow enough not to draw unwanted attention.

“Follow him,” Arran orders. “I’ll check in on the witch.”

This doesn’t sound good for her.

She’s back to beingthe witchin his mind. I hope she survives what wrath his beast intends to unleash.

As soon as my wings catch air, I soar far above the street to keep an eye on Rob—or whatever his real name is.

My first instinct is to rend his arms from his body—perhaps other much smaller body parts. If he is a predator of an ignorant female… as I suspect, that’s the least he deserves.

And my instincts are rarely wrong.

I hope whatever Arran discovers back there explains her side quickly and effectively.

I hate leaving Arran when his beast can surface so easily.

Will he take a moment to make sense of things and not just react without thinking things through? My money isn’t on that bet. He’s too impulsive.

This is when cell phones would be handy for our kind. I could call Maxum and have him check on the situation with the witch. But when it comes to witches, would the demon be level-headed either?

Down the residential street, Rob jumps into a nondescript black sedan on the passenger side. The car pulls into the light traffic. I swing wide so I can dip low enough and see inside the vehicle and memorize the face of the driver.

When I do, I recognize the woman as a known witch rights activist and a likely candidate for ASO membership.

Well, this is a dreadful turn of events.

Jade is indeed involved (in whatever way) with our enemies.

They don’t drive far, a few miles away to the business end of the city. They pull into a parking lot. Perched high on a ledge on the opposite side of the street, I watch as they enter a modern office building.

I’m close to our safe house, so I risk losing their trail to alert Maxum and Calder to the current events. If Arran or I were to be incapacitated, they would have no clue. I’m not allowing what happened to Osen to happen to me. He was a cocky bastard who thought he didn’t have to check-in. Look where that got us.

He’s dead.

And we’re in the dark.

I make sure no one tails me back to the safe house and land at our front door.

Barging inside, Maxum reads my aggressive demeanor and is already poised for a fight.

---