Page 48 of Warlocks Don't Win
“I want you to do it. Slowly. I want you to get as much pleasure out of it as possible. Do you think our meeting in Singsong triggered my grandmother’s curse?”
I shot a look at him. “I didn’t say that.”
“I love your face. So honest. So easy to read. Particularly when you look at my mouth and then talk about how long the curse has been going. It’s about the right time table. What other connections are between our two families?”
“Pardon me for not being a master manipulator in constant control of my facial muscles. Although maybe you’re less than masterful. Parody’s memories aren’t clear.”
He frowned. “Really? I should have stopped while I was in the shop, but I was concerned about my wife, wandering around Singsong City without her heroic familiar when a killer is on the loose.” He made a kissy face at Tolly, the skunk who was happily ensconced in his arms. Traitor.
She gave me a look.I’m just waiting for his guard to be down before I bite him.
Mm hm. I walked briskly away from the laboratory and into the streets of Song. Those dangerous ways were much safer than staying close to the warlock. His words prickled. ‘My wife.’ I wasn’t his wife. At all. But I’d married him, so what else could I be? His murderer. That would be a much better title. Wife implied so much domesticity. Like I’d be making sausage rolls for him for the rest of my life. I hadn’t made any for ages. The Butler made some, but I hadn’t talked to him afterwards about how the delivery went. Taming Salem Coven wasn’t high on my list of to-do’s.
Why did Portalia come all the way to Salem, hiring a portal, just to talk about my sausage rolls?
Winston cleared his throat. “I have a suggestion.”
“How nice for you.”
He gave me a very nice smile that hid a world of diabolical. “If you really think that your house is the entity that cast the curse, perhaps we should interview someone else with a sensate bastion who could tell you how to get the house under control or cut off the curse without burning the house down.”
“Burning won’t work, just feeds the curse,” I said with a shrug. “Otherwise, I would have done it by now.”
He raised a brow. “No loyalty to Sage House?”
“No loyalty to anyone or anything,” I said, batting my lashes with fake sweetness.
He smiled at me, eyes soft like caramels. “Of course not. Except for those times you sacrificed yourself for me and mine.”
I sniffed and turned away, glancing at the window we were passing. Were those tree stumps? Who would sell stumps? Who would buy stumps? Maybe I should get some in my shop just to see. “Those with sensate houses aren’t usually chatty,” I said, getting back to his point. It hadn’t been a bad point, just impractical. If I walked into a room as the Heir of Sage House, and yes, it did curse someone, let’s chat, there would be no chatting, maybe some screaming. Definitely running.
“I know some people who will be at the neutral witch ball. Hope house’s mistress as well as Dire’s master.”
“Ah.” The fancy ball had gone so well for me last time. I’d thought it went wonderfully at the time, but lies. “Why don’t you go there and get some intel to share with me?”
He pursed his lips. “It would also be a good time to announce our marriage.”
My heart stopped. I grabbed his hand, digging my nails in his flesh while I tried not to hyperventilate. “Are you insane?” I hissed. “We’re not announcing our marriage! I’m going to kill you once I’ve gotten together how to stop acting like I hate you.”
His smile was so sweet, clearly an utter lie. “Of course, but until then, it would be best if people saw our love in action. Itwould also help me end the rumors floating around about my co-star.”
“Can’t imagine why you’d be having rumors about someone you kiss, publicly, all the time.”
He tilted his head slightly. “You have watched my show.”
I bared my teeth at him.
He laughed and then sighed. “Four kisses in fourteen years is hardly all the time. Still, it was probably four too many.”
“Probably?”
He smiled fully, like he was having fun with this. Of course he was. My irrational jealousy was hilarious. “Don’t tell me that you haven’t kissed at least four people in the last fifteen years.”
“I won’t.”
His eyes widened. “You won’t? You mean you haven’t so much as touched a man in fifteen years? No wonder you’re grumpy. Your magic is based on?—”
“I know what my magic is based on, Winston. And I’m not grumpy.” I definitely sounded grumpy, but I was homicidal. There was a difference.
