Page 1

Chapter One

W hit smiled to himself as the two-hundred-year-old floorboards creaked beneath his weight in the front hall of his grandfather’s house. Today was his lucky day. He could feel it.

He glanced around the parlor as he passed through. Everything from the dark wainscoting on the lower half of the walls to the spindle-legged couch to the sconces on either side of the heavy stone fireplace was either original or had been carefully restored by him.

He knew every inch of this house, every iron nail, every cobweb. He loved everything about it, had loved everything about it since he was a small boy. And it loved him right back. Even the ghosts of his ancestors, who sometimes popped in and out to check on things or impart messages, welcomed him here.

To everyone else, it was just a house. A Georgian colonial, beautiful in its craftsmanship and valuable in its age. But to Whit, it was home. He’d lived with his grandfather for a while to help take care of the place, and today, it would finally be officially passed down to him.

Lifting his hand, he knocked gently on the library door. “Grandfather?” he called out.

After hearing his grandfather’s voice beckon him in, he entered.

The small room had taken very little work to restore. While he’d had to replace the bookshelves, which covered one wall, the windows behind the desk, and the desk itself, were original. The reading lamp was a reproduction though that was to be expected since it was electric. The armchair tucked into the corner near the fireplace was also new. His grandfather was old and needed a comfortable place to rest his joints.

He grinned at the old man, who sat at the desk with his fingers laced and his head bent. “Good morning, Grandfather. It’s a good thing you caught me this morning. I was planning on jumping into research for the shop. The veil is thin, so it’s the perfect time.”

Grandfather raised his chin, and Whit’s smile faltered at the serious expression on his face.

It wasn’t that Grandfather didn’t usually wear a serious expression. In fact, most of Whit’s family, most winter sorcerers and witches in general, were quite serious as a rule. One needed to tread carefully when worshipping the dark gods and goddesses, when working with the dead and the depth of winter’s chill.

Still, Whit had expected a warmer reception, and his grandfather’s frown made him a little nervous.

“Have a seat, Whittaker.”

Whit flinched at the moniker. Oh, gods. What did I do? He lowered himself into the armchair—the leather creaking in protest.

Whit forced himself to hold onto his smile but didn’t dare say a word.

“I drafted a new will with Caldwell last night,” Grandfather said solemnly.

Whit grasped the stiff arms of the chair as his heart skipped a beat.

“I know you have only ever wanted the house, and you have taken good care of it.” Grandfather sighed heavily, and his dark eyes met Whit’s. “But I cannot give it to you.”

Whit’s chest tightened.

“You will get your share of the inheritance like everyone else, but the house will go to Caldwell.”

Whit shot to his feet. “Grandfather! That’s unfair. Caldwell doesn’t know a thing about taking care of a house like this. He’s a lawyer, for gods’ sakes. You know I would give up every dollar of my inheritance money if I could only have the house.”

Grandfather glared at him, and Whit clamped his mouth shut. Then Whit sighed a steadying sigh and continued more calmly, “Why are you doing this? You know how much I love this house. I love it more than anyone else. And I have spent my entire thirty-two years learning how to properly take care of it. I’ve studied art, architecture, history, restoration, carpentry, everything. Are you really going to give it to Caldwell because he’s older?”

Grandfather shook his head. “That’s right, Whittaker. You are nearly thirty-three years old, and what do you have to show for it?”

Whit flinched as if he’d been slapped. His face flushed. “What do I have to show for it? A successful business and more skills than I will probably ever need.”

“But no family,” Grandfather said severely. “No wife. No children. This home has been in our family for generations. You expect me to leave it to a confirmed bachelor? What then? Who will it go to when you die?”

Whit frowned. “Why would that matter? As you said, Caldwell has children. Why wouldn’t I just leave it to them? What’s the difference if I have it first? Either way, it would go to them.”

Grandfather shook his head. “They do not yet appreciate it. They don’t love it. I feel they will have to grow up here for them to truly understand it.”

While Whit hated his grandfather’s logic, he understood what he meant about his cousin’s kids. They had absolutely no interest in anything related to the house.

“Grandfather,” Whit said reasonably. “I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked of me. Are you really going to keep the only thing I’ve ever wanted from me?”

“It’s time to grow up, Whittaker. You don’t understand what it means to be a winter sorcerer.”

Whit clicked his tongue like a child who’d been scolded. “Grow up? I’ve never been called immature in my entire life. Aren’t self-reliance and introspection pillars of what it means to be a winter sorcerer? Do I not have both?”

Grandfather stared at Whit for a long moment, then sighed heavily. “All right. I’ll make you a deal. I’m going on this cruise today—the one your grandmother had planned for us before she passed. I’ll be back before the solstice. If you’re married before I get home, I’ll give you the house.”

“You can’t be serious. How is that the adult thing to do? Where am I supposed to find a random stranger who’ll agree to marry me in such a short amount of time?”

Grandfather shrugged. “Should I sign the deed over to Caldwell before I leave, then?”

“No! I’ll…think of something.”

Grandfather stood slowly, his knees popping as he steadied himself on the desk. He held out his hand. “ Marry a witch before the winter solstice, and I’ll sign the house over to you. ” He spoke with the intonation of an oath.

Whit clasped the old man’s withered hand, their magic swirling together in a binding contract. “ If I don’t fulfill your conditions, I’ll concede the house to whomever you choose.”

As Whit exited the room, he left the smile he’d entered with on his grandfather’s face, exchanging it for his grandfather’s frown.