Page 35 of Cursed Sight
“I guess that’s possible, but, Serena, we can’t really be considering he’s out there, are we?” he asked and lowered to the couch.
She sighed and placed her head in her hands. “What does your gut tell you? Because mine says he’s dead.”
“I’ve been around the Brodericks, and I haven’t felt danger. Although…” He trailed off, and she watched the hairs on his arms raise.
“What is it? What do you sense?”
His nostrils flared as he studied her. “There’s a familiar scent around you, and something about you feels different, but I can’t tell you for sure what it is. As far as Volark, unless we got it wrong, I think he’s dead. And if we’re right… Who the fuck did E see? Has he had any visions lately we should know about?”
She nodded. “I’ll search my books to see if anything is said about killing higher-level demons. Ethan has had some visions.” She chuckled and shook her head. “He made me throw outallof my tea. I’m still trying to order a few of them because they weren’t in stock.”
Peter cocked his head. “Why’d he do that?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “He had a vision of me drinking tea and collapsing in my kitchen.”
Peter nodded slowly. “Any other visions?”
Her eyes slid away from him. “Yeah…” Serena rubbed her temples. “He saw me dead from a stab wound.”
His eyes softened. “This is about you.”
“Why did he think he saw Volark? I’m not the one who tossed the athame. He hasn’t mentioned any visions about Brandy either.” Her frustration was building, so she tried to rein it in. None of this was Peter’s fault.
“I can have one of my wolves sit on your shop,” he said. “We both know you can handle yourself, but an extra layer of security would be good until you figure out what the hell is happening.”
She faced him and debated her options. “If I agree, you can’t send me a hothead, or they’ll find themselves flying home.”
“No Xander.” Peter chuckled. “Noted.”
“DefinitelynotXander.”
After a quick good-bye, Serena left Alumbra Fitness, happy to not run into Xander again. She hurried back to her shop with the hope of taking advantage of her help. Inside, Serena waved at her assistant, who was helping a customer, and slipped upstairs.
She found her grimoire and her grandmother’s journals and flipped through them, researching high-level demons. If she could find any accounts of a demon not truly remaining dead, then it would explain what Ethan had seen.
She had no working theories as to why Ethan had seen Volark. None of it made sense to her, and she hoped whoever handed out the visions would give him a bit more to work off of. If she was this frustrated, she could only imagine how much worse it would be if she was on the receiving end of the partial information.
Chapter 21
“Hey, beautiful,” Ethan called from the entrance to her living room. She did not react to his voice, her index finger skimming a page of an old bound journal. “Serena, angel?” he asked, trying again and ignoring how good it felt to use the endearment.
He looked around the room and found it mostly the same as normal, if he ignored the books of all sorts of ages, bindings, and colors scattered over the living room’s carpeted floor. Serena sat in the middle. Her legs were crossed, and she had one book on her lap and another she was reading.
Ethan had never seen her so focused. Deciding to give her another few minutes, he slipped into her kitchen. He placed the bags he’d brought with him on the counter and set the kettle to heat. He knew her setup well enough to find two teacups and her assortment of tea, most of which were still wrapped in their original packaging.
He worked quietly, trying not to disturb her, but he kept his senses alert. Wondering if she had eaten anything other than cake all day, he opened the fridge but found it rather bare. He closed it, then removed two plates and plated the dinner he’d bought for them.
His day had dragged on in the most awful kind of way after Serena walked him back. He went through the motions and got some work done, but his mind had been occupied with her. He would not admit to her the pride he’d felt when she shoved the werewolf against the wall, even if he was bursting to know why she had visited Peter.
It was no secret the werewolves did not particularly care for witches—Brandy, Ryan, and himself excluded. Her visit to Alumbra had given Ethan pause.
The whistle from the kettle drew him back to the present, and a “shit!” from the living room reached his ears. Ethan bit his lip to stop from chuckling. The last thing he wanted to do was piss her off, especially when she was not aware of his presence. There was no telling what she would do to him in defense.
He padded to the doorway and leaned his shoulder against the wood frame. “Serena? Angel?”
Her head flew upward, her eyes cloudy, as a breeze began within the room.
“Beautiful? It’s me, Ethan. You’re safe. I brought us dinner.”
