Page 1028 of One More Kiss

“I have a business meeting to attend and I need protection. Hopefully you won’t actually need to do anything. It’s more of a precaution.”

I took a moment to cut myself a wedge of pancakes and smother it with syrup, cream and ice cream before bringing it to my mouth. A life without dairy would be no life at all.

“It’s just, the man I’m meeting with, he doesn’t like my kind.” The words came fast. Now that Clara was talking she couldn’t seem to stop. “So I figure if I turn up with a body guard he’ll be less likely to turn violent once he figures out what I am.”

As her words sank in the pancakes turned to stone in my belly. ‘What’ I am, not ‘who’. It could only mean one thing.

“Clara, are you telling me you’re a witch?”

She nodded.

“And you’re meeting with a man who doesn’t like your kind?”

She nodded again and I put my knife and fork down. “Nope. No, no, no, no, no. Not happening. You’re going to have to find someone else.”

Because there was no way I was going into a meeting with her, not if that meeting was with who I thought it was. She wasn’t the only one who had a problem with him. And if he set eyes on me again he’d do more than get violent. He’d get even. No, the next time I met up with Jett Black it was going to be on my terms. “I’m not meeting the Hunter with you, not for anything.”

Her eyes went wide. “Liandra, please. I wouldn’t ask if I knew another way. But I trust you, and I really need your help.”

I scoffed. “You trust me based on meeting me for five minutes?”

“No, I trust you based on the fact that you haven’t pressured me for information or asked me questions I can’t answer. You’ve been patient and kind, even though I got tongue tied when you first arrived. And you’ve got great taste in breakfast.”

That caught me off guard.

She grinned. “I admire a women who can eat her own weight in pancakes.”

She nudged my plate towards me. “Please, finish your food. It’s my treat, and if I can’t convince you to help me before you’re done then I’ll be on my way. Deal?”

I eyed my plate. The pancakes were amazing. “It would be a shame to waste them,” I agreed. “You’ve got five minutes.”

Clara picked up her mug and took a long sip of her coffee before she spoke. “I’ve got a glass glowing business. I sold at the markets in the early days, but it was risky and now I have an Etsy shop. It works well and I make a good living.”

She took another sip of coffee and I wanted to strangle her. Get to the point already! But at least she was talking again.

“I want to be able to pay for my daughter to go to college. And I’ve found a way to do that, if I can tap into the market.”

“Wait, you’ve got a daughter? How old is she?” I looked around, trying to spot the elusive daughter.

“Fifteen. It’s a long story, but she doesn’t live with me.” Pain flashed in her eyes and her hands clenched on her mug. She blinked long and hard. “Even so, I want to contribute to her education. I want her to have the chance to do anything she wants with her life.”

“Family is everything, right?” I understood that, even if I couldn’t understand why a mother would let go of her child. “Fifteen? But didn’t you say that was when you ‘died’?” I did the finger quotes around the word.

“That’s why it’s a long story. And why the man who thinks he killed me can never know I’m still alive. If he knew, he’d use her against me. I don’t want that for her.” She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, first one eye then the other. Damn, I’d made her cry.

She poured a glass of water from the carafe, which had been untouched until now. Her hand shook slightly. I wasn’t sure where to look.

“It’s okay, my sister is raising her.” She sipped her water then shrugged, putting on a brave face. “It’s practically the same thing.”

I turned my attention to my plate, giving her a moment to get herself under control. It wasn’t the same thing, and she knew it. Nobody could replace your Mom. No way was I asking if she was all right though, it was a recipe for tears. At least, that was my experience. I could keep it together just fine until someone asked how I was doing, and then the water works started. I forked another mouthful in and chewed slowly.

“Anyway.” Her voice had lost some of its shakiness. “As I said, I’m a witch. I was playing around one day and I worked out how I can weave a spell into the glass to make special vials. They can hold vapours.”

“Vapours? I don’t know a lot about witch magic, you’ll have to explain.” I drank the last of my coffee.

“Usually, when a witch makes a vapour it has to be consumed on the spot. This is a game changer.” She waved her hand in emphasis. “It makes them transportable. It also means that whoever has the vial can use the vapour. You don’t have to be there when it’s made.”

“And nobody’s done this before? It seems kind of obvious.” I cut off another bit of pancake and chased the melting ice cream around my plate.

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