Charmed by L. L. Frost

Author:L. L. Frost [Frost, L. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Small Bites
Published: 2018-11-05T05:00:00+00:00

The Care of Witches

“You’ll want to stand back,” Jax rumbles as soon as I step out of the kitchen.

I pause next to the display case and glance around.

Shades cover the windows to keep passersby from peeking inside, and the tables and chairs from the center of the room now sit off to the sides. Tally perches on one, her feet swinging as she watches the proceedings.

Jax walks around the room, setting out tiny votive candles that smell like cinnamon on the floor. Warm and comforting, it makes my hands itch for a mixing bowl as the sudden craving for spiced cake floods my mouth. Fall, with all its wonderful flavors, can’t come soon enough.

Xander sits cross-legged in the center of the room, his laptop propped on his folded legs and his expression focused.

Slater stands behind him, muscular arms folded across his chest and a permanent scowl on his face. It makes me wonder if I’ve put them in an awkward position, asking them to do magic when they’re Kellen’s witches. Is this considered a conflict of interest, since Kellen is supposed to be taking care of the hunter situation for me?

With the floor cleared, Reese uses violet chalk to draw out a large diagram of circles and symbols around the pair. It’s complicated, and the more I try to focus on it, the fuzzier it gets, until my gaze fixes on the bare floor instead of the chalk lines. It makes my head hurt and my eyes ache, and the fifth time I find myself admiring the grains in my hardwood floor, I give up and join Tally where she hovers off to one side.

“Do you know what they’re doing?” I whisper as I lean against the table she perches on.

Her focus locks on the men instead of what they’re doing, and she doesn’t even spare me a glance. “Magic.”

I roll my eyes. “No shit.”

She gives me a sheepish smile. “Cinnamon candles for protection, violet chalk for insight. The symbols Reese uses are powerful, so it will be a strong spell.”

Curious, I try to read the symbols again, and my eyes slide to the side. “How can you tell.”

As she shrugs, the gossamer wing pattern on her back shifts. “I can’t look at them. The more powerful the symbols, the more difficult it is for me to see.”

Pride fills her voice, and I turn to her, curious. “How can you stand to live with them?”

Her pink brows pinch together. “What do you mean?”

I rub my bare arms where goose bumps form. “If they do this stuff at home, doesn’t it make your skin itch constantly?”

“They practice in the basement. I do not go there unless there is great need.” Her attention shifts back to her men. “There are wards against demons, and it is uncomfortable to venture through them.”

I stare at her, nonplussed. How can she live in a house with a space designed to actively reject her? How much do her men truly care for her if they would

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