Page 17 of Wooing the Wiccan
Too bad I won’t be around to see it then. I’ve been psyching myself up to do the right thing for days, and it’s made me miserable. The only times I’ve let myself be happy are when Jared and I are talking on the phone—and that makes things even worse, because how can I say goodbye to something with so much promise?
The door opens, warm light and the lovely lemony scent I already associate with Jared flooding out to envelop me, and Jared smiles at me with such pleasure that my resolve wavers.
Something brushes against my ankle, and I look down at the cat winding its way between my feet.
“Oh—sorry,” Jared says. “That’s Marge. I forgot to ask if you were allergic or anything.”
I bend and scoop the cat up, cradling her in my arms. “No, I’m not allergic.”
Jared beams. “Good. Because Margie’s queen around here, and we would have had to spend the whole night outside if you were.”
The life force rushes around me, a whirling, dizzying burst of etheric energy, the way it always is when it wants to communicate something to me. Realization settles in my bones. Eoin’s probably going to sigh, but I’m not giving up Jared… not unless he wants me to.
CHAPTER NINE
Jared
SeeingRaðulfr and Marge instantly take to each other makes my inner self do a little happy dance. I’m not much of a dancer, so it’s more of an arms-flailing-wriggle-and-hip-bump than anything else, but it counts. My instincts were spot-on about asking Raðulfr over, even though I’ve only met him twice in person. I’m getting seriously good vibes about him and our future relationship.
The vibes increase when he stops in the entryway and toes off his shoes without me needing to ask him. I don’t always ask my few guests to take their shoes off—I know it makes some of them uncomfortable—but I always notice the ones who do it anyway because they care aboutmycomfort.
“This is charming,” Raðulfr says as he follows me into the living room. “There’s so much character and love here. It must give you so much pleasure to come home to this every day.”
I smile over my shoulder at him. “It does, and thank you. I’ve worked hard to make it a haven for myself. Please sit down and be comfortable. We have a few minutes before we need to begin.”
He sits on the right side of the couch—not that there are a lot of places for him to choose from—and settles Marge in his lap for more pets and scratches. She blinks slowly at me, blissed out.
I take the opposite end of the couch, which, considering its size, leaves only a few inches between us, and tuck my feet up as I turn toward him. I’ve already bathed ahead of the ritual and am dressed in the white cotton pants I always wear, plus a long-sleeved blue tee, the color chosen to hopefully help in boosting my psychic awareness. I’m planning to use at least one of the minor magics I’ve learned during the ritual—likely more. Just for the candles, mostly, and perhaps setting up the altar.
“Tell me what tonight entails. You said it was the new moon?” he asks, eyes attentive on my face, and I nod.
“Yes. Astronomically, it’s in about twenty minutes, so I’d like to time the ritual to begin then or shortly after. The new moon is a time of new beginnings and energy. It’s an excellent time to set intentions and begin projects and… other things.” Like relationships. I figure it can’t hurt to use the power of the new moon to attract the goddess’s energy to what I hope is happening between me and Raðulfr.
“How does the ritual work?” He’s still petting Margie, and the half-asleep happy sounds she’s making indicate she won’t give him up anytime soon.
“I’d like to do this one outside—that’s usually my preference, when the weather permits. I know it’s cold tonight, but it’s not freezing and there’s no snow or rain, so…”
Raðulfr shakes his head, a faint smile on his face. “Please don’t feel you need to justify yourself to me. It’s so much easier for me to feel the universe’s energy when I’m outdoors. And I have a coat.” He stops. “Unless you’d rather I stay inside and watch from here? I’m not sure how involved you’d like me to be.”
“You can come outside with me,” I hurry to assure him, wondering if I’ve made a mistake after all, “if you want to. I thought maybe this first time, you could watch? There’s nothing stopping non-Wiccans from participating, so you could do that if you wanted, but?—”
“I’d prefer to observe tonight, if that’s okay,” he interrupts calmly. “You said last week that this was personal for you. I’m very honored to be here at all, and until I understand better, I’d rather not overstep. Is there anything I need to do to prepare?”
Calm seeps back through me, my instincts stirring smugly to remind me that they were right about him. “As a watcher, no.” There’s no negative energy clinging to him that I can sense. Some residual emotional turmoil—perhaps the thing that’s been distracting him for the past few days? But whatever the problem was, it’s been solved. “Once we’re outside, I’ll create the circle and set up the altar for the ritual.” I hesitate. “You won’t be able to cross inside the circle.”
“An energy barrier?” He tilts his head. “That’s fascinating. We use those when experimenting with bigger spells. They act as containment and protection.”
My smile is instant. “Yes, exactly. Ours is to protect the sacred space during the ritual. I suppose some things are universal among practitioners of magic. Once the circle is closed, I’ll call the four elements, ask nature and the goddess for their blessing, and make my offering. Then I’ll open the circle, and we can come inside for dinner.” I sound a little uncertain on the last few words. Could I have made it sound any more prosaic? I mean, itis, but it’s also an important spiritual ritual that means a lot to me.
“I can’t wait to see it,” Raðulfr says. “Shall we go outside? Or is there something you need to do first?”
I stand, energy already racing through me. “Let’s go—that is, if the queen will let you.”
“She’s not allowed out?” He carefully gets to his feet without disturbing her in his arms, and he’s a lot more graceful about it than I usually am.
“She’s allowed in the back garden, because the fence is too high for her, but she doesn’t like being left out of the circle, soshe’s begun shunning ritual time entirely. Maybe with you for company, she might want to join us.” We go back to the front door to collect coats and shoes, and then into the kitchen, where the door into the back garden is.
“Is there a reason she can’t be in the circle?” Raðulfr asks as he shifts Marge from one arm to the other so I can help him get his coat on.
