Page 39 of Witchwolf

Despite the...

I stood them, stunned for a moment, before speaking up. “You expected that.”

“Of course, dear. We all do something like it the first time, if we’ve got any kind of power. You’re supposed to start a fire, so you picture a fire. There’s a reason I told you to focus on the candle. My cousin almost burned down her family’s library because they just told her to start a fire.”

I slumped back into the chair, still watching her. “But then why not... I mean, how do I do it right? And why not tell me to do that?”

“Because this is a more important lesson. You have the magic. You can light the fire. There’s no doubt of that. Even the least powerful mage can light one tiny candle. If you’d just lit the candle, I would know your powers were on the weak side, and I’d never have to discuss that with you, just teach you what you’re capable of learning. But this way, since you aren’t a weak mage, you learn how important focus and control are. That’s a much more important lesson than being able to light a fire with magic.” She turned and waved at the mess of melted wax and burned wick. “You know that things can get out of control very quickly, and to start small. You focus on the wick. On a tiny flame.”

She pressed up, went over to the table, pulled another candle seemingly from nowhere, and planted it in the middle of the previous mess. “And now you know precisely how to do it.” She stood right behind the candle and motioned to me. “Light it.”

I blinked at her. Was she insane? I’d almost set the entire table on fire a moment earlier.

But no, this was part of it, too, wasn’t it? Everything she did, every lesson she taught me, was planned and efficient. She knew precisely what she was doing. So I considered her words.

The wick.

A tiny flame.

Like a cartoon fire, just one drop of fire, surrounding only the candle wick. Controlled and safe.

And there it was. A single flame, only on the wick of the candle.

She smiled brightly at me and nodded. “There you are. Perfect. Precision is always our first goal. Power is lovely if you have it, but precision is what matters most. And you, my dear boy, were made for it.” She leaned down and blew out the candle, then motioned for me to come over. “Let’s go have a snack. Fire work always makes me hungry, and I’m sure you won’t be any different.”

As we were leaving the room, my phone rang. I checked the caller ID and frowned. Donnie. He was calling a lot lately. I started to slip it back into my pocket, ignored, but Prudence motioned to it. “Answer it, dear. I find that when ignored, people usually only get even more insistent.”

I winced, but she wasn’t wrong. Donnie was like that. He’d call four or five times in a row when I ignored him, as though to make sure I knew it was him, and important. Not that it was ever important.

I hit the answer button and put the phone to my ear. “Hi Donnie. What’s up?”

“Where are you?”

That boded well, when he didn’t even answer simple questions, but made demands. I shrugged and affected a nonchalant tone. “Work training.”

“You should be home by now,” he insisted. “They’re not paying you for all this overtime.”

That was... odd, as a statement. I hadn’t even brought home my first check yet. How would he know if they were paying me overtime for this? Of course they weren’t, this was all me, and it wasforme, but he had no way of knowing that. Heck, if anything, I owed Crescent for all this. For finding Prudence and asking her to help me and now—and often—she was even feeding me.

“They’re paying me for every hour I work,” I informed him. It was true. This just wasn’t one of those hours. “This is important. I need to be able to do my job.”

Prudence lifted a brow at me, clearly recognizing the half-truths I was tossing around. Or at least my pointed avoidance.

He groaned. “This is ridiculous. You need a life outside of work, Kody. Whatever happened to work-life balance?”

“It’s still very important,” I agreed. “I’m sure I’ll have more time off once I’m trained up. It’s not like this is strenuous. Plus, they’re feeding me.”

“To who?” he muttered on the other end of the line, but it didn’t seem like he was talking to me. Before I could demand to know what the hell that was supposed to mean, he sighed, long and deep, and continued. “Okay, okay, fine, I guess. I was going to introduce you to a guy, but I guess if you’re too busy to have a social life, that’s your call.”

“It is, and I really am.” I didn’t mean to agree quite so instantly, but the very idea of being introduced to a man sounded terrible. I had already met the man I wanted. Theonlyman I wanted.

Given how Jax kept telling me I shouldn’t want him at all, that was probably unhealthy, but... telling me I shouldn’t want him wasn’t the same as telling me he didn’t want me.

By the time I got off the phone, we were in Prudence’s enormous kitchen, and she was looking into the double-wide fridge, stuffed with fruits and vegetables. She turned back to me as I slipped my phone back into my pocket. “Friend?” I nodded, biting my lip. “Mundane?”

I winced at the dismissal. Oh, she didn’t say it like it was a dismissal, but I heard it all the same. Why wouldn’t werewolves and mages dismiss plain old normal people like Donnie? Like I’d been, before?

“He’s a good guy,” I insisted.

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