Beguiled: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Betwixt & Between Book Three) by Darynda Jones

Author:Darynda Jones [Jones, Darynda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-02-21T16:00:00+00:00

Twelve

Once upon a time,

there was a girl who really loved coffee.

It was me.

The end.

—True story

“How’s your head?” I asked Roane when we walked out of Elle’s shop and into the crisp air. The sun hung low, adding ribbons of orange to the already moody sky.

“Better now. But everything sounds like it’s underwater.”

I stopped short and gave him my full attention. “Your hearing is messed up?”

“Very much so. And there is a ringing.”

“Crap.” I looked back, wondering if I should go talk to her. “Surely it’s not permanent.”

He bit down. “It’d better not be.”

“Roane, you can’t kill her. She’s a person.”

“She’s powerful. And at some point in her life, I’d say she was one step away from becoming a warlock.”

“Seriously?” I asked, suddenly wary. “What makes you say that?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Even blood-born witches have to use spells to conjure that kind of power. They have to use something as a conduit.”

“She did. The crystal.”

“But there was no spell. It just worked for her.”

“By spell, you mean something like eyes of newt and bat wings.”

“Yes.”

“She was reciting something.”

“No. It would take way more preparation for a regular witch. Even someone like your grandmother.”

“Damn. Are eyes of newt a real thing?”

A grin broke free from its restraint. “Yes, Ms. Dayne. Newts have eyes.”

“Right. How do so many witches know about warlocks and hunters and charmlings when I’ve never even heard of such things? Well, okay, warlocks, but not about the hunters that they create or charmlings or the original witches.”

“The vast majority don’t. I think your coven knows so much because both Serinda and your grandmother are blood born. They come from a long line of witches, and the lore has been passed down from generation to generation.”

We grabbed coffees and had barely pulled into the drive when Annette ran out, her face a shimmering frenzy of anticipation. She followed us as Roane drove around the side of the house to park in the back, his usual parking spot. I watched in the side mirror as she ran after us, waving her laptop.

“You know you could’ve let me out in front,” I said through a fit of giggles.

He was laughing, too. “Yeah, but this is more fun.”

When he went as far as he possibly could without crashing into the back fence, I opened my door. Before I could get out, however, she yelled, “Pirate booty!”

I stifled another giggle and asked, “Whose booty?”

“Pirate.” She skidded to a halt, breathless with anticipation. “Think about it. Those caves were used by pirates for smuggling.”

“We think,” I corrected, handing her a coffee.

“They want the house because of the caves.” She put her arms on my shoulders and shook, sloshing coffee out of the sippy hole on the lid. “Deph, don’t you get it. There’s pirate treasure in them there caves.”

I shook coffee off my hand and started for the back door. “I have considered the caves. That’s clearly how they got in and out. The caves are easily accessible from the outside. They’re hidden from view.

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