Page 57 of Witches and Wine
Fury built between us,allof it emanating from my frenzy god. I slipped a hand over his shoulder to calm him.
“I’ll talk to him, Herb. If he’s behind this, I’ll get it out of him even if I have to filet him with my horns.” Dion’s lip bounced in a snarl.
“Now, there’s no need for you to get mixed up in all this, Dion. I’m the sheriff and I can handle it.” Herb shuffled toward an old rotary phone hanging on the wall.
“It’s not a big deal, Herb. Bus and I go way back in the worst of ways. I’ll let you know what I find out.” Dion held his hand out to me, leading us toward the exit.
Once outside, I rubbed my arms, an eerie chill washing over me from the idea of someone being murdered in the town I now called home. “Something’s bothering me, D.”
“What is it?” Dion cupped my elbow.
“We chose not to go to Herb last night to fucking each other’s brains out instead. Someone was murdered while I was riding you, Dion.”
My magic pulsed from my skin, reacting to the guilt I felt.
Dion frowned and traced my jawline with his thumb. “Don’t go thinking in hindsight about something like this, Red. How the shit were we supposed to know that was going to happen?”
Sighing, because I knew he was right, I hugged myself tighter. “If only I’d been given seer powers.”
“Would you honestly want that? The ability to see into the future? Sure, I guess it’d help in the grand scheme of things, but then there’d be no more surprises.” Dion traced his fingers through my hair, catching on a knot that he took care to comb through.
“I know, I know. I can’t help feeling guilty now that I can use my magic. Not that I’m sure what I would’ve done to stop it if I didn’t know it was going to happen.” A frustrated snarl tickled my throat, and I fought the urge to stomp my foot.
“Come here, mate,” Dion beckoned with burly, open arms.
I hugged him and pressed my ear to his chest, calming myself to the sound of his strong, godly heartbeat.
“Chelsea Stewart?” An unfamiliar female voice called out.
“Who wants to know?” Dion asked in a gruff, protective tone.
Lifting my head, I squeezed Dion’s shoulder. Two women in dark grey dresses and hooded black cloaks stood on the other side of the dirt path. They both had long, wavy chestnut hair,and their facial features were so similar I wondered if they were sisters.
My magic settled over my mind, a similar surge of power emanating from the two women but in different harmony from mine.
Witches.
Moving from behind Dion’s body shield, I gripped his bicep. “They’re witches.”
Dion blinked, and his predatory demeanor relaxed, his shoulders lowering from his ears, hands resting at his sides.
“Yes? That’s me,” I answered, still approaching with caution.
The taller of the two women lowered her hood and took a step forward. Her jawline was angular, matching the lengthy swoop of her nose. Her sapphire gaze caught with mine. and I couldn’t decipher if her expression were of sadness or hesitation. “We wish to speak with you about the possibility of joining our coven.”
My heart fluttered at that prospect.
The other woman stepped beside her but didn’t remove her hood. “Something unfortunately took our third from us last night.”
The pixie. She was a witch.
Guilt tried to gnaw at my bones again. Had fate swapped the pixie’s life for mine to give me a coven? At sisterhood? And if so,whyme?
The two witches stared at me in desperate silence. The still hooded woman had dark circles under her eyes like she’d been crying, the tip of her nose rosy red.
Looking at Dion, I parted my lips to ask him what he made of this, but he answered before I could edge a word out.
“You should hear what they have to say, Chels. This could be good for you. I need to go talk to Erebus anyway.” Dion shruggedand gave that snarky smile, suggesting that none of this would come between us.
