Page 46 of Shift of Morals
She stepped away just as Moira held her teacup out. Hazel took it with a thankful grunt and settled herself on the couch.
“Cream or sugar?” the vampire asked.
“Both, please.”
As Hazel fixed her tea, Ash and Tess came out, the dryad giving me a curious glance.
“Hazel, this is Ash and Tess, friends of mine. They also work at the shop.”
Hazel’s startling eyes narrowed. “We used to have many dryads back home. They’ve all retreated to the deeper forested areas.”
Ash smiled. “I have some family in Scotland, though I haven’t seen them in years.”
“If you ever decide to visit, my home is open to you.” Before Ash could respond, Hazel’s attention was on Tess. “Dangerous to have a banshee as a friend with your mother coming around, Evie.”
Tess floated closer. “I sense the queen before she appears.”
Hazel’s lips quirked. “Allowing you to haul ass?”
Tess let out a little squeaky moan in agreement.
“And you,” Hazel said, turning her attention to Moira, “sucking on many veins these days?”
Moira rolled her eyes. While she had a healthy fear of Hazel, she wasn’t afraid to talk back. “I prefer it straight from the tap these days.”
Hazel snorted. “Liar. I can smell O negative in that mug of yours.”
Moira’s brow furrowed as she looked down at her tea. “Seriously?”
Hazel tapped the side of her nose. “A hereditary witch has an excellent sense of smell. Though your donor was a touch anemic, my dear. Don’t be surprised if you’re hungry again in only a couple of hours.”
Moira swore. “Dammit. I knew there was something up with this batch! I’m going to ask for a refund.”
I stared at the vampire. “You couldn’t tell?”
“That she was anemic?” Moira scoffed. “I’m not a doctor, Evie.”
Her tone was exasperated, and it made me laugh. “Sorry. I wrongly assumed vamps could tell that sort of thing like a built-in survival instinct.”
“Maybe in the past, but I’ve always taken bottled blood. Part of the way I was raised.”
Hazel’s eyes narrowed, but Moira ducked her head and turned away. Hmm. Maybe Moira hadn’t always been a well-behaved vamp.
No judgment here. I hadn’t been the best-behaved Floromancer lately, either.
“Let me finish this tea, and we’ll take a look at that bouquet.”
We chatted about her trip and the weather, all inane things, as Hazel sipped her tea. She’d always been a small thing, but power didn’t always come in large packages. I didn’t know much about witches because I’d never had many run-ins with them.Most wanted to be left alone, and they lived far from civilization. That wasn’t always true, but Hazel had happened upon me because she was out foraging and had sensed a disturbance. Pure luck.
Or so she said.
When she finally set her teacup down and rose, I led her to the walk-in. Hazel grimaced and moved her fingers in an odd pattern. A moment later, a warm, comforting spell had settled over our shoulders.
“Something dark lives in that fridge,” Hazel murmured. “Better safe than sorry.”
Ash and the others took a few steps back. I opened the fridge and held the door open for Hazel.
The small witch stepped inside and let out a litany of curse words that made me blush.
