Page 13 of The Fang Arrangement (Celestial Witches #2)

I sleep way better than I should in Warin’s guest room. I should have been tossing and turning in an unknown bed. Yet, here I am, fresh as a daisy as I wake up with a smile on my face.

Gus doesn’t seem too put out either as he crunches on a piece of bacon, a massive food cart in front of his chair.

“I’m still mad at you, but the room service is incredible,” he grumbles.

I make myself a plate as I sense my wand. My brows furrow as I glance at the nightstand. My wand, phone, and a note sit there and I grab the note first.

Warin’s note is short and I’m even more confused when he mentions practicing, and then I flip open the new grimoire that was just underneath the note. The handwriting is the same as the one with the protection spell.

“What ass backwards spell is he wanting you to learn now?” Gus says as he bites into a pastry.

I clear my throat. “On rendering a vampire immobile,” I rasp out.

Gus moves quickly out of his chair, rounding the food cart, danish still in hand as he glances over my shoulder and confirms what I just said.

“Hmm…this dead man makes no sense.”

“You’re telling me,” I say, reading over the spell and making sure that Gus doesn’t get any crumbs on the book.

“Well, if it takes you a few days to figure it out, it’s not a big deal,” Gus says, moving back to his chair and turning on the TV.

“What happened to me getting us killed and being the stupidest witch on the planet?” I say to my familiar with an arched brow.

He shrugs his furry little shoulders. “That was before I realized the level of our accommodations. You’re still walking around with all your blood, and he’s teaching you how to protect yourself from his kind. Don’t get me wrong, we shouldn’t trust him, but have you tasted the beignets?”

I sigh, tuning Gus out as I read over the spell. This one has a lot more to do with practiced skill versus doing the right incantation and having the right items like the last spell.

To immobilize a vampire, you’re basically sending them a high-pitched frequency into their mind, almost like a dog whistle, rendering them unable to function.

In the margins, the witch mentions what has and hasn’t worked. That the older the vampire, the more difficult it is to use this magic.

How old is old in vampire years, anyway?

“I’m going to go out to the gardens and practice,” I tell Gus, and he waves me off as he slouches, a beignet perched on his stomach as he watches his show.

I get turned around in the house a few times, but finally make it out the back door. The house is so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. I wonder if Warin and Samantha are resting. Do vampires actually use coffins?

When I get outside, I’m able to appreciate just how beautiful his gardens are. They’re filled with colorful roses, lush bushes, and ancient trees.

There are a few plants that need pruning and a little love. I take care of that easily as I find a small patch of grass that’s covered in shade. I toss the blanket down, resting on my stomach as I read through the entirety of this journal.

I meditate, I practice clearing my mind and being more intentional with my magic. But I realize that there is no practicing this spell without a vampire. The last bit of his note makes sense. However, I don’t really feel like talking to the vampire who is keeping me in this very serene prison.

It’s been a whole day, and I haven’t seen a single soul, besides the chef, Cecile.

So I’m shocked when Conner approaches me in the kitchen as I’m eating dinner.

I glance around. “Uh, isn’t the sun still up?” I ask as he blinks at me.

“It is,” he says simply.

“Doesn’t that mean you should be sleeping or something?”

“Oh, we don’t?—”

“Conner,” Warin’s voice cuts through whatever Conner was going to say like a sharp knife. “Don’t you have other things you need to be doing? Like not standing in the kitchen,” he says, not looking at me, only staring at Conner.

“Right. Yup. Loads to do. See ya later,” Conner directs at me, and Warin glares at him further.

I take a sip of my red wine and Warin faces me, his face unreadable as he watches me drink. I clear my throat and I’m thankful that I was almost done eating my meal or else this would be even more awkward.

“Did you find where I left your wand?” he asks.

“I did,” I reply, taking another sip.

“Hmm. I see,” he says, glancing at the stool across from mine.

“It’s your house. If you want to sit down, you can.”

“Right,” he says, quickly taking his seat across from me. He’s more casual tonight and dare I say, he looks nervous.

I make this super rich, ridiculously attractive vampire anxious?

“Do you sleep?” I blurt out, and Warin blinks at me with his serene eyes.

“Sometimes.”

“Because you need to?” I inquire, trying to get more of a story out of him than his usual riddles.

“Vampires who rest more frequently tend to not go mad. It’s a way to cure boredom, but it isn’t completely necessary. A vampire who doesn’t rest for a long time may have symptoms of sluggishness or irritability. Same as if we don’t feed for a while, we usually need more rest.”

I’m shocked he answers my question so easily and without snark.

“Interesting. Do you sleep in a coffin?”

His lips twitch. “If you wish to see my private quarters, all you need to do is ask.”

I click my tongue. “Yup, now I remember why I don’t ask you questions,” I say.

“No, I don’t sleep in a coffin,” he says, backpedaling. “Did you sleep well in your new accommodations?”

“I can't deny that the bed is probably the best one I’ve ever slept in. Keep sending food up to the room and Gus will never want to leave.”

“What about you? What would it take for you to want to not leave?”

I blink at him a few times, taken completely off guard. “I’m just here until the Slayer is out of the picture. I have a coven, responsibilities,” I say, and even as I do I can feel heat rising to my cheeks.

“Hmm. I see. I don’t know how long it will take to find the Slayer.”

“But there is a time limit on our arrangement,” I remind him and he hums again. “An arrangement that didn’t involve me living here.”

“We could amend that, you know.”

“I don’t think that's necessary. I appreciate you keeping me safe here until we figure out the Slayer situation, but once it’s taken care of, I’ll have to get back to my life,” I tell him.

What was my life before Warin crashed into it? Rather boring, I was doubting myself, having these feelings I couldn’t express to anyone. It doesn’t matter though, even if I did let myself indulge in what I want, it would never work anyway.

Something tells me if I let myself even get a taste of the fantasy I’ve been thinking about, I’d never be able to let it go.

I stare at Warin’s fang and he tilts his head at me.

“Right. Until the Slayer is handled,” he reiterates.

I clear my throat. No indulgence, we’ll ride this wave out, get the hell out of here and get out of this arrangement or finish it up. So far he’s asked nothing nefarious of me, only giving me new spells to protect myself.

“So how old are you anyway?” I ask.

“I was born in 1898,” he says and I whistle. “Are you afraid of an older gentlemen?” he asks and I nearly choke on my wine.

“What? No. I mean, that’s just a long time to be alive, you’ve probably seen a lot of things.”

“Nothing as pretty as the witch in my kitchen right now.”

Okay, that has me squirming in my seat. My freaking pointer finger is on fire for some stupid reason and I squeeze it. Am I sweating? No way.

“Is that why you’re giving me spells to protect myself against vampires, because you think I’m pretty?” I flirt back.

I fucking flirt back with the vampire and I like it. There’s no way this ends well, I’m already in a cauldron load of trouble, but as I sit at the counter with him, both of us leaning closer I can’t help myself.

“Because I want you safe. Being beautiful is just a bonus,” he says simply, like that was the easiest answer.

“Why do you want me safe?”

“For so many reasons, I’ll explain in due time,” he says, and I cross my arms against my chest.

This only makes Warin stare at my breasts for a moment, before they slowly slip back to my face. One moment he’s flirting with me and then the next he’s being secretive and pushing away.

What does this vampire want from me? And am I open to indulging him?

“In the meantime, I suppose I will need to do a better job of showing you that I very much care about you being alive.”

“You know, I’m not a fan of secrets. I’d much prefer your honesty.”

“Honesty?” he asks, clearing his throat, like it’s a confusing concept.

“Yes, honestly. Like not hiding secrets, being forthcoming with information. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

“I’ll have to look this word up. Honesty.”

I take a sip of my wine and Warin watches me intently, like I’m the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. It’s nice being desired, even if I don’t know what he truly wants from me, it’s fun how openly he desires me, I’ve never felt that before.

“You do that,” I tell him.

“You haven’t brought up my note,” he says, changing the conversation, which he is especially good at.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Why haven’t you asked me to help you?”

What do I say, that I am feeling stubborn? Or that I don’t want to be embarrassed if I can’t do it right?

“I’ve been working up to it, plus I thought you’d much rather me torture one of your minions instead of you.”

“No. I’d very much enjoy you torturing me. You’re already so good at it,” he says with a smirk. “Tonight. In the gardens, we’ll practice.”

“I…no, we can do another night.”

“Tonight, in the gardens,” he repeats. “You have about four hours until the sun sets. I’ll see you then.”

He’s out of the kitchen before I can even retort. I breathe heavily through my nose, not even wanting to eat the rest of the fish Cecile prepared.

I’m not sure what’s more dangerous. Spending alone time with Warin, or the potential that I might completely fail at this spell.