Thorn in Her Side: A Witch-Shifter Paranormal Romance by Elizabeth Alcroft

Author:Elizabeth Alcroft [Alcroft, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-09-06T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Cleo’s mind raced. There were only so many things her coven was capable yet. They were young in their craft, herself included. They were still settling into routine, and although the others frequently got together socially, Cleo avoided those gatherings for obvious reasons.

So it couldn’t be about the power of the collective. It had to be about an individual. Cleo wasn’t sure who would have an affinity that would attract a shifter pack. Or sleuth. Or troop. Whatever.

“Do you call it a pack of bears?” she asked suddenly.

Curtis was taken aback, although he did a good job covering it.

“I mean, what do you call yourselves en masse? I read a book that discussed sleuths of bears, but I can’t really see this guy,” she shot a thumb in Ian’s looming direction over her shoulder, “belonging to something called a sleuth, you know? Doesn’t fit in his whole ‘brooding image.’” She did the air quotes to be extra-annoying.

Curtis’ face creased in confusion. “What’s this got to do with…”

Ian cleared his throat. “Bears are solitary. I am. When there’s a group, though, we usually call ourselves a pack, which is dumb, because we’re not wolves.”

Cleo templed her fingers together sagely. “It seems like wolves would be annoying.”

Ian huffed a laugh. “You have no idea.”

Curtis’ hand slashed through the air and Cleo refocused on the situation at hand.

“We have a,” Curtis paused, “territory issue currently.” Both Ian and Jenny looked like they wanted to spit. Interesting.

“How can a group of untested and, quite frankly, unexperienced witches help with a territory problem?”

Curtis’ lips pulled in a half-smile. He got his whittling back out, the picture of relaxation. Except for his left foot. That twitched in a steady rhythm. When he saw that she’d noticed, he stopped, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankle.

Curtis looked at Ian flatly. “You didn’t tell her,” he said.

Ian shrugged, uncomfortable. “I’d like for Ian to attend some of your coven meetings,” Curtis continued.

“Nope. Nopeity-nope. Nope squared to the infinite degree. Hard pass,” Cleo said. Cool, her mouth was running away from her again. Cool, cool, cool. She tried again.

“That is not wise. This is a new coven. We’re still getting used to working together,” she explained. Her tone was still slightly manic, but at least she sounded reasonably adult.

Curtis paused his whittling. “How was the tea?” he asked.

Cleo went cold all over at that. She had hoped he wouldn’t pull this card, but apparently this was high-stakes poker. Curtis held the ace, and he knew it. Cleo’s attention shifted to the weight of the necklace around her throat, obvious and heavy. She resisted the urge to touch it.

Curtis resumed whittling as he waited for her response. And why not wait? He already knew what her answer would be.

“You want Ian to come to a coven meeting. What else, exactly, do you want from us?” Because now it wasn’t just about her. This was Grant, Sophie, Mariana, and Agnes’ problem too. She’d pulled them down with her because of that stupid, stupid curse.

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