Witchromance_Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy (Reluctant Necromancer Book 5) by Kaye Draper

Author:Kaye Draper [Draper, Kaye]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-22T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

The household settled into a weird sort of routine. Toma, Drake, and Luna still went to work as usual in town, since we did have bills to pay even if it felt like the world was about to come crashing down on us. Awan came back to us, wearing a tall, fit white-haired man's body. He accompanied the others whenever they went to work, since he didn't have to sleep and none of us liked the thought of being alone or divided right now. Not with the collector still out there, and the hunters headed our way.

I knew the skinwalker didn't like leaving me, but I had Jet, whoever wasn't working at the time, a bunch of vampires, and Luna's new wolves hanging around the house constantly. I was pretty sure I was safe as I was going to get.

Jet and I met with the black witch, poured over old books, and got on each other's nerves constantly, while the bossy familiar tried to force magical knowledge into my slow, necromancer brain.

Like with Awan, he was able to tell me what was possible. He was even able to show me how to work more easily with my power. But he still wasn't a necromancer. He couldn't understand how things worked from this side of the mirror.

I was growing more frustrated by the day. My dad was still out there in the clutches of a madman, and we were all sitting here waiting for some sort of big attack. I felt useless. And I was terrified that one of my murder was going to get injured, kidnapped, or killed. And it would be my fault for being too slow and stupid to know how to help.

In between all of this, I tried to make friends with our reluctant house guest. The vamps had taken up the two remaining spare rooms, so we planted the hunter in the living room, where he was always under watch by at least one person. He was mostly silent, only speaking when spoken to, and then only to spout snark and rhetoric. But I remembered Toma's words. The guy might be a vampire hunter, and a gun-toting American with the usual tough-guy attitude…but he was also a teenager. And it sounded like he probably had a shit ton of expectations on his shoulders if he was some sort of valuable family heir.

The more I tried to get to know him, the more he clammed up, and the snottier he got. But it didn't bother me. Because I could finally see it for what it was—a defense mechanism. He was set on making us his enemies because that was the only safe option. If he made friends with any of us, then we'd see his weaknesses.

"Cookies," I proclaimed, dropping a plate of double chocolate heaven onto the coffee table.

Van looked up at me with that same cold, flat blue gaze, then went back to reading the book in his hands. I smirked when I realized it was one of the books I'd written about how to grow tomatoes.

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