Page 10 of The Witch's Pet

But she’s so real and solid, and when she touched me…

I run my fingers through my hair, still feeling the phantom sensation of her hands on me.

The adjoining living room and kitchen are behind me, lit by soft lamplight and the wood-burning fireplace. It’s all too bright, like spotlights that will let this woman watch me through the large windows.

Breathing fast, I kick off my shoes and peel off my wet socks. The invisible rope around my ribs tightens with every step away from the woman. I shudder like a dog shaking off water, trying to force the sensation away.

My cold, damp feet stick to the hardwood as I race to shut all the blinds. I can see her standing by the back door, arms crossed, fingers tapping her biceps as she stares out into the darkness. Waiting? Plotting?

The heat from the fireplace tingles through me, fighting off the bone-deep chill. My head is throbbing and my vision is wonky, like a migraine is threatening to come on.

I grab my phone off the coffee table, chewing my lip. I should call the police and tell them there’s an unhinged woman trespassing, and she tried to kill me.

Except…

“Dammit,” I whisper, rubbing my chest.

As much as I want to make her leave, I can’t deny the painful tightening in my core when we’re apart and the easing when we’re close. When she grabbed me, it was…not exactly a bad feeling.

Okay, fine, it feltgood, and that’s what’s scary. The sensation was over fast, bookended by terror as I caught the dangerous flash in her eyes. But in the middle…

God, those few seconds in the middle felt incredible.

My face burns. I shouldn’t be dwelling on this. But when her fingers tangled in my hair and brushed my scalp, it was like a gulp of wine easing down my throat and hitting my bloodstream, making my brain fuzzy and my whole body relaxed. It was intimate in a way I’d never experienced, like the raw connection at the moment of climax. Like she was touching my soul. Stroking it. And when the connection broke, a hollowness filled me,leaving me so empty that it was like part of me had been ripped away. I almost asked her to keep doing whatever she was doing.

Heat stirs in my belly, and my face burns hotter. I hate that my body is responding this way to something that clearly just about killed me.

A power I don’t understand is at play, and I think she’s telling the truth when she says a supernatural force is binding us together.

What was it she said? Hercoven?

My heartbeat quickens as the pieces slide into place. The Latin verse. The way she levitated the ash. The intoxicating sensations that flowed through my body.

A word surges into my mind, which I can’t argue:witch.

My knees weaken. I sway, grabbing the couch for support.

No way. Witches—are not—real. This must be a hallucination from inhaling toxic smoke. Or a nightmare.

Yes, a nightmare. I squeeze my eyes shut. Any second, I’m going to wake up in the back room of Book Nook with our latest shipment scattered around me.

But the fire keeps crackling, and my feet stay on the floor of my living room, and I don’t wake up.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I jump, snapping my eyes open.

It’s a text from Dean:How are you holding up? Want me to come back over?

I stare at the message, the words taking a moment to absorb. How do I explain that I accidentally freed a witch from an enchanted book and now we’re supernaturally bound? That she tried to kill me but couldn’t? That part of meenjoyedthe feel of her fingers drawing the life out of me, or whatever the hell that was?

I can’t. So I type back:I’m fine. Thanks boo.

Another lie to add to the collection I’ve been building for years. I was fine when my parents abandoned me the day I turned eighteen. I was fine when Riley disappeared without explanation.

The lock clicks, and the back door swings open. The woman steps inside with the confidence of someone who’s been, you know,invitedin. She sweeps her hand to shut the door behind her without touching it.

Fuck, I guess locks mean nothing to a woman who can control anything with telekinesis.

As I back away, she unbuttons her cloak, revealing a white blouse and bodice that hugs her curves. Her thick brown hair falls past her breasts, and she tosses it back over her shoulders. Her nostrils flare as she rakes her gaze over every corner of the house—TV, microwave, laptop, vinyl kitchen floor.