Page 12 of The Fang Arrangement (Celestial Witches #2)

“ S ee, this is what happens when I’m not around,” Betty chirps in my mind as she flies around town, trying to find the Slayer.

Most of my nest is out hunting for him, while a trusted few are back in the house, making sure that Ember is safe. Samantha, being the most trusted of all of them, that is, as long as she doesn’t expose any of my secrets to the witch.

That’s another problem for another day.

At least Ember is safe in my house. Her floral scent is soaking into those ridiculously expensive sheets Samantha purchased.

I smirk when I think about her pissed off expression when she realizes where she is, that I’ve taken her.

It’s better this way, at least for me.

I can go days without rest, and with her in my home, I’ll be able to speed the entire process up. She’ll have the skills to protect herself from my kind and she’ll fall effortlessly in love with me.

She’s already saved my life. She couldn’t help herself, or maybe she already holds affectionate feelings toward me.

My phone chimes in my pocket as I pull it out.

Samantha

She wanted to leave. Told her some slayer lore. She loved Cecile’s food.

I smile to myself again. Maybe this will be easier than I thought. Very Stockholm of me to have her fall for me this way, but I don’t feel bad about it.

Samantha

She also called you rude, manipulative, and scheming. So…

My face falls from that second message. Okay, so we have more work to do. She didn’t call me ugly, or that she disliked me. Also, manipulative and scheming, I accept fully. Rude?

Maybe to others, but never Ember.

Well, besides breaking her door frame and making demands of her. I’ll work on it.

For now, I need to push Ember from my forethoughts as we hunt down this bastard.

Though…him not being found immediately would be of more benefit to me. Or at least, I could not tell Ember that he’s dead when I do kill him, so she’ll stay in my home without putting up a fight.

That would be the manipulation she’s talking about.

Hmm. Perhaps she can come to love my wit and realize it for what it is. I’m just smarter than everyone else and I like to get the things I want.

“Boss,” Conner says, taking me out of my thoughts.

“What?” I snap.

“We’ve lost his trail. He’s lost a lot of blood, but it still smells vibrant. He isn’t dead, but we can’t figure out where he’s hiding.”

“Any information on the human host?” I ask.

I’m not sure if it could be described as a possession. Most vampires don’t survive a slayer to tell the tale. Most of what we do know is hearsay. But when I think about his completely black eyes, there’s no doubt in my mind now about the demon aspect possibly being true.

“Not yet, sir,” Conner says, and I stare at him.

“Don’t bother me again until you have something useful.”

“Yes, sir,” he says quickly, running off into the woods.

I should have done more to subdue him, to make sure he didn’t walk away from our fight at all. A low growl hums in my throat as I turn in place and make my way back to my home, back to my witch.

Before I can even saunter up to her room, Samantha greets me in the foyer with an unamused expression on her face.

“She’s asleep. Have they found the Slayer?”

“No. We lost his trail.”

She hums looking me up and down. “Are you sure you lost the trail?”

“What are you insinuating?”

“Warin, please. You’ll do whatever it takes to keep your witch in her perfect little tower. She won’t like you if you keep trying to trick her.”

“I’m not?—”

“Please,” she says, holding her hand up.

“I know part of you was hoping you wouldn’t find the Slayer, so you have a reason to keep her here.

She’s not like us. She cares about things, she wants to be a good person.

You know, her first concern, besides not being your captive, was if her coven was safe? ”

“And?” I say, bored with the conversation.

“If you want a shot of her actually caring about you, you need to stop orchestrating everything. Maybe, just maybe, give her the pieces of you that no one else sees that I know are there. If you keep up all this scheming, you’ll lose her.”

“If I don’t engineer her needing to spend time with me, how do I get her to want to be around me?”

“You’re so stupid sometimes it hurts,” she says, lightly tapping my face twice before walking away.

Samantha is out of the room before I can even reply.

How to get this witch to like me without coercion?

I laugh at the thought, heading to my office and sitting on the massive leather chair. A soft tap against the glass has me opening the window, as Betty flies in and hangs upside down from her perch.

“Are gifts manipulative?” I ask Betty.

“Well, are you hoping that in exchange for the gift she gives you something in return?”

“Her affections for me, perhaps.”

“It would need to be a very good gift. Your witch doesn’t seem like someone who is persuaded by money.”

“I knew it, I’m fucked.”

“But…her figuring out the protection spell on her own was one of the happiest moments I’ve seen her.”

“So you’re saying I should give her a new spell to crack? Maybe rip out a page so that she’ll need to come to me for help?”

“You would think all your time on this earth would make you less stupid. No, give her another spell, knowing that it will make her happy, that is all.”

“But then, why does she have any reason to speak to me?”

Betty sighs, making a high-pitched squeaking noise.

“You must stop with the selfishness or you’ll never win her over.”

“So you’re saying I should prioritize Ember’s happiness and perhaps my own happiness will follow?” I ask her, tapping my finger on my desk.

“Yeah, let’s just go with that. The sun will be rising soon. I need my rest and you’re giving me a headache,” she says, adjusting her wings, and cutting the conversation off.

I round my desk and look at the bookshelves before me. Some of them bring me sadness, knowing why I have them. If Ember knew how I came upon these grimoires, she probably wouldn’t want anything to do with me. I suppose that’s no different from how she feels now.

My finger trails the spine of the dark green journal and I pull it out, flipping to the page I had in mind. I’ll never forget the first time I felt the pain of a witch scrambling my brains.

I bring it to my desk and write a note to Ember.

Beautiful Ember,

My home is your home.

You’ll be safe here, that I can promise.

This spell is a difficult one to master, but I’m around any time you need a test subject.

P.S. Thanks for removing the stake.

Yours,

Warin.

I grab her wand, phone, the note, and the grimoire and head to her bedroom.

She’s asleep, her pink hair splattered around pink linens. Her lips are parted as she rests, and her soft lashes rest against her cheekbones. The raccoon familiar is snoring in the corner as I place everything on the nightstand.

I’m not able to resist myself as I move a curl out of her face.

“Sweet dreams, my beautiful witch,” I tell her, being selfish and greedy, as I lean forward and place a delicate kiss against her forehead.

She makes a soft sound of contentment before falling asleep again.

“I’ll do whatever it takes for you to want to be mine, Ember Hallow,” I whisper as a pledge to myself.

Now I just have to figure out how to get this sunshiny witch to fall in love with a jaded wretch like myself.