by Andris Bear
***
Shane cranked the heat and rubbed his hands together. In the short time he’d been in the house, the cab of his truck had gone from toasty to chilly. He stared at the big house as he waited for Evie.
He’d been staring at that house for as long as he could remember. Even as a kid, he wondered about the place. Why didn’t anyone live there? Who owned it?
Of course, there had always been rumors—it was haunted, the owner fled in the middle of the night, Satan lived there with his harem of witches.
The last one gave him a good chuckle. He couldn’t state an opinion on the devil, but he’d gotten a crash course on witchcraft lately.
Since he’d accepted he was a guardian—which he still didn’t entirely grasp what all that entailed—the world was different. More vivid, more active, and definitely more… weird. Colors were both brighter and darker, sounds resonated more, but so did silence. And when he touched certain objects, he felt its vibration in his bones.
He honestly didn’t know if something in him had awakened the world around him, or if the world had forced him to open his eyes and pay attention, but his senses were in a constant state of awareness that was both exhilarating and exhausting.
His uncle, also a guardian and protector of casters at one time, had warned him it could be a rough transition. He hadn’t realized how rough until even his sleep was plagued with worry over protecting Evangeline.
His witch.
At least, he hoped. Her reaction to him showing up unannounced was a good sign. They had just started to get serious when her parents died. He’d tried to be supportive and give her space, but a part of feared the distance would eventually grow. Unfortunately, even after she’d returned to Whisper Grove with her sisters that fear continued to grow. Because she had been distant.
She would text, even take his calls, but her heart wasn’t in the conversation. At least, not like it had been before. Yeah, it was selfish of him to worry over their relationship when she clearly had so much more to deal with, but he was starting to get a complex.
In his defense, he hadn’t stopped in just to gauge her reaction to him. He had needed to see with his own eyes she was all right. Though she was as new to this darker world of witchcraft as he was, the burden she carried was much heavier.
Especially now that her sisters were her sole responsibility.
Evangeline popped out onto the porch, pulling the door shut behind her. The wind caught her hair and whirled it into a curly tornado, and he chuckled as she tried to tame it one-handed. “Never gonna happen, baby,” he muttered to himself.
If she had any clue how glorious she was to him, she wouldn’t bother. He loved the curls, the freckles, the spitfire attitude. Even when it was directed at him.
Apparently giving up, she let her hand drop with a shrug, smiling as she skipped toward the truck.
His chest tightened at her toothy grin.
Hell, he had it bad.
“Sorry about that. I had to put my sister in a chokehold,” she announced as soon as she opened the door. Shoving her bag across the bench seat, she grabbed the oh shit handle and hauled herself into the cab.
Shane waited for her to get situated and buckled in before asking, “A chokehold?”
A sigh preceded her, “Yeah, after several months of not living under the same roof, three weeks of it has us at each other’s throats.”
“Dare I ask?” he asked anyway. Having no siblings of his own, he was curious about her family dynamics. Plus, he just liked hearing her talk, so the longer she did, the happier he was. “I’m going to hazard a guess you’re talking about one in particular?”
Her mouth pinched. “Alex, of course. She’s selfish, immature, and a right jackass on occasion. Don’t get wrong, she’s also brilliant, witty, and beautiful—and she wants everyone to notice.” She cocked a brow at him. “Especially men.”
Yeah, he got that. “I noticed.”
“Oh, you want a chokehold, too?” Her eyes narrowed to slits.
Jealous, was she? He could live with that. His grin was lopsided when he placed his hand, palm up, on the seat between them. She laced her fingers with his, and a soft hum of energy vibrated up his arm.
“I already belong to a Winther,” he said, gently squeezing her fingers. “She’s kind of salty and laughs like a braying donkey, but I’m smitten.”
She stared at him blankly, and for second, his pulse stalled. Then her lips curved into a smile that had his eyes crossing. “You shut up right now.”
He threw his head back with a laugh. “Wow, someone needs to teach you how to flirt.”
“That was me flirting.”
Grabbing the gear shift, he put the truck into drive, then gave her a wink. “I know.”
He debated turning on the radio but decided against it. He finally had her alone and wanted to enjoy the time without the buffer of anyone or anything else—even music.
“How is living in the house?” he asked, regarding her from the corner of his eye. The one time he’d been inside had convinced him it was no ordinary brick and mortar. Whether it was bespelled or possessed, the place had a mind of its own.
Despite being deserted for over twenty years, there wasn’t a cobweb in any corner. No dust on the mantel, no creaky, warped boards on the staircase. Hell, there weren’t even weeds in the yard. It was as if the place had an invisible caretaker. Keyword, invisible. No one had been seen coming or going since Paul Winther had left in the middle of the night two decades prior.
Until Evie walked up the porch steps and the front door swung wide open.
He had considered himself a man firmly rooted in the logical, physical world. No longer. Ten minutes in that place, and he’d nearly screamed like a spooked toddler.
“Strange yet, familiar. Sort of.”
When he glanced over, she shrugged. “The house… recognizes us. Or, at least me. I don’t know if my sisters have noticed the little things it does, but I do.”
Fascinated, wanted to keep her talking. “What little things?”
Her frown was pensive. “I have yet to receive an electric bill—thank God because I’d probably pass out—but we have power. The temperature is always ‘just right,’ ya know? Also, my bedroom door locks behind me when I leave.”
He raised a brow at that. “Slanted floor?” Easily responsible for a door shutting on its own. And they’d only been in the house a little over three weeks, so the electric bill could be en route.
She shook her head. “I hear the lock click into place. When I reach for the knob, it unlocks. I had Elle try to open it.” Her lips curved into a cocky, satisfied grin. “It wouldn’t.”
He snorted. “What about their rooms? Do they lock you out?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t tried.”
“What?” Did he sound incredulous? Because he was. “Why not? I’d be trying everything in that house.”
“Yeah. But… what if it’s just me?” she asked, finally meeting his eyes. “What if I’m the only witch?”
He cringed. That did pose a problem. While society had taken a hard turn at politically correct, witches—or casters as they preferred to be called—weren’t a protected minority. They weren’t even a minority because they weren’t ‘real.’ Most people did not believe in witchery, and those that did, were either friend or foe—there was no in between.
He was merely a guardian—a human who could see auras but had no power, but he wouldn’t want to announce it to the world either.
As much as he hated it, Shane understood her hesitation. Especially since neither Alex nor Ellery had the same vibrant aura that Evangeline did.
Then again, he hadn’t seen one around Evangeline until she came into her power. Perhaps her sisters would show.
“We’ll figured it out together,” he promised, reaching across the seat to rub her arm. She shivered at his touch, but he didn’t think it was in pleasure.
Reminder
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