Jingle All the Witch Way: Paranormal Women's Fiction Romance (Silver Sisters Book 4) by Jennifer L. Hart

Author:Jennifer L. Hart [Hart, Jennifer L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Elements Unleashed
Published: 2022-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

Armed with our books on lifting enchantments as well as a witchy shoulder bag full of various colored candles, stones, herbs, and, tools, Sibby and I drove around the lake to the werewolf compound.

I’d been keeping a close eye on my very very pregnant sister. I could see her belly button protruding through the thin fabric of her maternity shirt. When the timer popped it usually meant the baby was done cooking but so far Sibby was having no signs of going into labor.

“How are you feeling?” I asked her.

She yawned. “Tired. Sebastian and I stayed up to greet the dawn. You?”

“Peachy keen, jelly bean.” I took the turn heading up to the compound, my eyes alert for running wolves. “When I was in the last trimester, I was completely exhausted all the time. My back hurt, my feet hurt, and I couldn’t poop if my life depended on it.”

Sibby laughed. “Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately. Those iron supplements are a bear. The size of horse tranquilizers and they lodge in your intestines like a cheese log full of fishhooks. Have you been taking yours?” I dared a glance her way.

“Yes,” Sibby rolled her eyes. “Of course I have.”

“And no complaints?”

She shrugged. “Other than needing to pee every five minutes and my center of gravity shifting and near-constant heartburn I’m good.”

Hers was the strangest pregnancy I had ever seen. And not just because it had happened in a very odd kind of way with a changeling baby daddy. She had no back pain and no stretch marks. At twenty-five, that was something of a small miracle but Sibby was in her forties. It should have been impossible for someone to breeze through pregnancy with such ease.

She’d been cleaning and cooking for days. Just thinking about that had me on the verge of collapse. Yet there she sat, ready to get down to witchy business to see if there was anything we could do to help Nate.

Maybe I would ask the Granny Woman about it. The image of the eerie figure at the crossroads came to mind and an involuntary shudder went through me. Then again, maybe not.

We parked my van beside Alys’s Yukon and were greeted by two of the wolves who were under orders to escort us safely over the icy path leading to the house.

“Do you think those orders came from Brock or Alys?” Sibby asked.

“Same difference,” the wolf on my left, a big blond guy whose name escaped me, muttered.

He led us through the front hall and then gestured to an open door off the living room which I had always assumed was a coat closet. “They have him down in the cage.”

Down was an appropriate descriptor as the door concealed a set of stairs that led below ground level. Some people tried to add arrow-slit windows or cheery LED lighting to brighten up a basement. The werewolves hadn’t bothered with any of that. There was a dim glow at the bottom of the stairs but it wasn’t enough to illuminate our path.

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