Me and You and a Ghost Named Boo (Southern Vampire Detective Book 2) by Selene Charles

Author:Selene Charles [Charles, Selene]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: urban fantasy romance, vampire romance, sexy shifter romance, witches and wizards, dark fantasy
Publisher: Selene Charles
Published: 2017-04-16T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Scarlett

I pulled up to the nondescript brick-faced building in downtown Silver Creek. We were firmly in witch territory, but that part of the Creek was a neutral zone for all.

Silver Creek was a giant labyrinth of many different cultures, religions, and Veilers that called the small Appalachian community home. Considering the fact that many oath-sworn enemies lived and worked within a fifty-mile radius of one another was a minor miracle and a testament to the fact that Clarence’s rule in the Creek had been strong overall.

True, in recent years his mental health had taken a nosedive, but I’d known him before the madness of moon fever had warped his mind, and for the most part, he’d been a pretty fair Alpha with an uncommonly progressive view of the Veiler world.

As long as one agreed to live by the rules of this land, anyone could call the Creek home. For a backwoods town in Tennessee, the idea had been radical but also surprisingly effective.

That was why there were witches, vampires, shifters, fae, and a plethora of other minor Veilers that called the place home. Opening my door, I hopped out onto the sidewalk and stared at the nearly identical row houses lining the street.

The bricks were varying shades of red, the doors all painted a cheery blue. Flowerboxes lined the windowsills, and even in the cool of night, the fragrant scents of roses and sweet peas saturated my olfactory senses.

A buttery-golden glow of lights flickered on in some of the homes. A few couples were even taking a romantic midnight stroll. An undeniable Norman Rockewellian vibe permeated the neighborhood. Everything was pedantic, normal, and boringly mundane.

However, what’s seen often isn’t what’s really there, especially with inherently magickal entities like spell casters.

I brushed a hand down my shirt; relieved I’d taken a quick second to stop off at a gas station on the way here to change. I always kept a spare set in Betsey. There was no way in hell I wanted to head into the witches’ world wearing a cocktail dress. I had a feeling tonight I’d never every advantage I could get, even if it was just swapping boots for heels.

Glancing toward Mercer, I waited till he stepped beside me before I asked, “You ready?”

“Don’t fucking like messing around with the mages,” he grumbled.

I elbowed him good-naturedly. “Who does?”

Gripping his hand, I held tight. Unless the incantation was uttered at the same time and we were joined, what Mercer and I wound up seeing would be two completely different worlds. We’d be flung apart toward different regions of the witches’ world, and the likelihood of ever finding each other again would be slim to none.

In that place, spatial relations—or “scientific realities,” as we knew and understood them to be in our world—held little to no merit in theirs. Think of the witches’ world as a vast M.C. Escher alternate dimension full of twists and turns that could sometimes lead nowhere. The only ways to safely navigate that realm came in two forms: be a witch or be given access by one.

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