Magic and Mayhem: The Witch Singer (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Witches of Mane Street Book 1) by Heather Long

Author:Heather Long [Long, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kindle Worlds
Published: 2016-10-16T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

If someone had said I would be sharing a picnic lunch in the middle of nowhere while I was supposed to be urgently on my way to Assjacket, I’d have laughed at them. Scratch that, I’d have stared at them and then fled—cause that’s what you should do with crazy people.

Of course, here I was, sitting on a blanket Martin spread in the grass beneath a beech tree all decked out in autumn foliage. I’d ordered chicken fried steaks, biscuits, and mashed potatoes. We set the big tub of gravy between us and took turns dipping our food into it. Though starving, Martin ate like he sat a table laid out for a king. The neat handling of his plastic silverware entertained me.

I ate with my fingers, except for the mashed potatoes. I used the biscuits and the spoon for those. “Will you tell me more about you?” I’d held my silence for as long as I could.

“Yes,” Martin said, utterly polite and sweet. “If you’ll tell me about you.”

“You kind of know my story, sort of.”

“I do?” He gave me a sidelong look. “You barely told me your name and only so I would stop calling you witchypoo.”

Not flinching at his baiting, I considered the possibilities as I took another bite of the food. “Okay, fair enough,” I said finally. “We take turns. You get one question, then me, then you, then you…sound fair?”

“Perfectly reasonable. Tell me about the tattoo on your back.”

My tattoo? I froze momentarily. When had he seen my tattoo? Then glanced at my tank top. He could likely see parts of it outside the edges of the shirt. Stuffing another bite into my mouth, I bought myself some time. How much truth should I tell him? Did it matter if I told him all of it? I’d promised an answer for an answer. The innate sense of right versus wrong inside my soul rang a clarion bell, like a tuning fork. It told me which notes I needed to hit.

Fine, truth it is.

“It’s a tree, with the moon rising through it. It’s a magical tattoo. Nanny planted it when I was little, it started like a little acorn and, as my magic grew, so did it. She wanted me to know that if I didn’t take care of it, if I didn’t practice when I was supposed to or if I abused it, the tree would wither.”

After wiping his hands, Martin eased behind me and, before touching me asked, “May I?”

The intense intimacy of letting him see the tattoo struck me. Still, he’d asked. “You realize that’s technically two questions.”

His fingers skimmed the edge of tank top’s strap, just barely grazing my flesh. “Actually, it was only one question. I simply said tell me for the first part.”

Aggravation speared my gut, followed swiftly by a fascination for how smartly he’d played his hand. After a drink of my coke, I nodded. “You can look at it.”

He skimmed his fingers down my spine then peeled my shirt upward.

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