This Strange Witchery by Michele Hauf

Author:Michele Hauf
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2018-09-06T16:55:38+00:00

Chapter 18

“Did you have any furniture stacked up in the back of the house you want me to put back in place?” Tor asked Mel as she walked down the hallway.

“I didn’t blockade my spell room.”

“I’ve seen that side of the house from outside. Isn’t it all windows? Like a conservatory? Anything could have broken through—” Tor decided that stating the obvious wasn’t going to help matters. He was here now. He could protect Mel.

And he wouldn’t run away from that responsibility again.

“I know. Not very efficient at battening down the hatches. But I ran out of furniture. Come on—I’ll show you.”

As they entered the spell room, which was a long conservatory attached to the side of the house, Tor fell into a state of wonder. With a snap of her fingers, Mel lit a few candles placed in sconces along the walls. Above them, centered over a stretch of stone table, a candelabra was lit, giving the room a soft, cozy glow. Vines grew all over the windows from the outside, so the night sky was blocked in most places, but the moon shone through, high above, full and round.

Tomorrow night would see the moon’s apex. Showtime, Tor thought. And he was going to stand by while Mel raised the dead. That would be interesting, for sure. Out of his comfort zone? Nothing doing. But still, it was going to try his bravery.

It would be worth it to help Mel.

The room smelled fresh and summery. Plants in terra-cotta pots were positioned all along the tiled floor. One wall was lined with shelves and vanities that were stocked with vials, bottles, jars, candles, rocks, more plants, books and—well, everything witchy Tor could imagine.

He smoothed a hand over a massive pink stone table that stood as high as his thigh. The top surface was about four feet square, and it had no legs; it was a solid chunk of rock. He jumped up to sit on it. “Must have taken a crane to get this piece in here.”

“I’m not sure,” Mel said. She tapped a bit of dried flower that hung from a copper rack over the pockmarked wood table that abutted against the pink stone. Must be her main spellcrafting table. “It’s rose quartz. It was here, in that exact spot, when I moved in.”

“A witch lived here before you?”

“I think it was a geologist. The whole house, when I did a walk-through before buying, was filled from floor to rafters with pretty stones and crystals. I suppose the owner decided that piece was too big to move. Must have cost a fortune. It feels great, doesn’t it?”

Tor pressed his palms to the cool stone and shrugged. “It’s a rock.”

“Oh, dear, no.” She moved to stand before him, and Tor spread his legs wider so she could step right up to him.

Mel slid her fingers along the pink stone, and then with those same fingers, she tapped his heart. He clasped a hand over hers. “Rose quartz is a stone of the heart.

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