Street Witch: The Complete Trilogy: Steamy Fantasy Romance (The Street Witch Series) by S. L. Prater

Author:S. L. Prater [Prater, S. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2022-03-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9 (Jack)

Astorm was coming. Jack could smell it in the air, see the clouds growing denser and more numerous.

Kye.

He couldn’t leave her alone in a storm. He borrowed a silver mare from the manor, not bothering to saddle her, and road hard for the cottage, taking a shortcut to the gates through Hood Road, past the mechanized gallows. Outside the walls, on the streets of Glint, he slowed down because the mud was thick and the pathways were crowded with workers returning home from the mines and the ferries. The rain started, a light sprinkling, as he reached the marsh.

“Kye!” he called, sliding off the mare’s back, landing on the balls of his feet.

No one responded. He let himself inside. Empty. His heart kicked against his ribs, a silly impulse, he told himself. He had no reason to feel anxious. Kye frequently traversed the swamps and jungles—she was a huntress, after all. Perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

Panic gripped him anyway, making his skin prickle. Storms terrified her. Picturing her trapped in one by herself had bile burning the back of his throat.

He didn’t have her tracking skills, but he wouldn’t need them. The ground was perpetually soft from regular rains. Her dainty footprints were easy to locate after he found the first where the tall grass was disturbed and trodden.

He followed the prints through shallow waters on horseback. They led him to where the ceiba and sun trees grew thick and the ground was moss-covered and spotted with bright yellow leaves. The footprints ended at the start of a rocky creek bed. He followed the flow of water next, certain she must have walked through it, preventing further tracks.

And then he saw her, and his heart stuttered.

Kye was bathing in the stream. The sight of her bared skin knocked the air out of his lungs as effectively as if he had been tossed from the horse. Jack dismounted, striding to her with intent. Her back was to him, water pooling at her hips.

She turned then, an arm covering her breasts. Her hair, darkened yellow with moisture, hung wetly over her shoulder. Given the right ingredients, Jack was certain he could cast a spell and drain that creek, revealing the flesh below her navel. An intriguing thought. Sidra’s star circled her belly button, the ink shimmering a blue brighter than the waters.

He did not realize she was glaring at him until he was much nearer. His eyes were too busy elsewhere.

“I’m about to get out,” she said with an exasperated exhale. “I don’t suppose you’ll turn around and let me put my clothes on?”

His grin formed slowly. “Let’s be witches about this.”

She slipped into deeper water until it rose to her neck. “I thought I made myself clear the last time. I can’t be a witch about us. That won’t be enough for me.”

Jack was struck by her melancholy expression. The sorrow in her voice. “Why do you look so sad?”

“Just go away, Jack.”

“A storm is brewing. I don’t want to leave you alone.

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