This was the last thing I’d ever do for her.
She was gone. Dead. And I was truly alone in the world.
“Again, Miranda, I’m sorry for your loss,” Martin said after he’d come over to me and taken my hand into his.
I fought back a groan.
If there was one silver lining to this moment, it was that I’d never have to endure him saying that sentence to me again. I didn’t think I’d be able to stand it one more time.
“Thank you,” I told him because I didn’t think he’d leave if I didn’t say something.
Slowly, I made my way back to the car carrying a single white rose with me. I’d ordered Grandma a beautiful arrangement from work to sit atop her casket. I’d wanted her to have something nice from me for once in her life… or for once in my life. I’d taken one with me but the rest would be buried with her.
I’d taken the rose as a memento, thinking I’d dry it but something strange happened.
The crisp white petals began to wither and die seemingly from just my touch. They began dropping, leaving behind a white trail marking my path. The fallen petals turned black and then into dust.
How in the fuck did that happen?
“Miranda,” a man called softly to me in a deep voice as I approached my car.
Taken by surprise, I stopped and glanced up. It was the stranger on the motorcycle. My name fell from his lips in a breathy huff and I wanted to hear him say it again and again. Maybe make it my ringtone and cherish it forever. But still, I couldn’t ignore the insistent voice in my head nagging me over the fact that I didn’t know this man.
“And you are?” I asked.
As he watched me, something inside me came alive, making me feel bold, confident. A warmth I’d never experienced before. I stood taller, full of determination. For what, I didn’t know.
“Luken,” he announced, his deep voice making me forget that I’d asked. And also, his name meant nothing to me. “Luken MacCormack.” Still didn’t ring any bells. I’d never heard his name in my entire life.
I nodded to acknowledge that I’d heard him, but still tried to figure him out myself. Seeing him up close took my breath away but I’d never let him know that. “Why are you here?” I asked.
He certainly didn’t live in town. A place this size… I would’ve seen him.
“I’m here for you,” he murmured.
Nope.
I took a giant step away from him. My grandma had taught me about stranger danger and this guy being here for me rang all of the bells.
Well, this was a first. Both a guy being here for me, but also me drawing back. I hadn’t given anyone an inch in years. I stood my ground. Part of the whole taste-of-danger thing Grandma had talked about. Not that it had ever really done me any good.
But he…fought back a laugh.
“I’m told you may have a room I can rent,” he added, watching me closely with those dark eyes.
My shoulders sank.
Yeah, I guess that made more sense than him actually being there for me.
When I’d gone into the bank the other day to withdraw money for the funeral expenses, Mr. Bonner, the bank manager, had suggested that rather than living in the big old house all by myself, I take in boarders. At first, I’d scoffed at the idea.
Who would want to live with me? In an old house that was falling apart, no less. I’d loved living with Grandma, but it was the kind of place that made kids cross themselves and hold their breaths for fear of evil spirits possessing them when they walked by. Plus, strangers in my space kind of sounded like a nightmare in and of itself.
But now, the only thing left in the big old house was me.
Yet somehow, Luken had found me and wanted to rent a room. I guessed that was my sign and the money wouldn’t hurt.
“Did Mr. Bonner at the bank send you?” I asked.
Luken’s eyebrows slammed down as if my question confused him but he recovered quickly. “He did.”
“How long do you think you’ll need the room?” I asked, hoping he’d offer up some more information about himself or his plans without me having to ask.
Instead, he shrugged. “I’m not sure. Can we leave it open-ended?”
Having someone in my space wasn’t the most appealing idea at the moment but I kept remembering the income it could bring. “That shouldn’t be a problem.” I’d never done this kind of thing before and had no idea how to do it.
How much to ask for? Should I do a background check? How does one even do a background check? I should’ve been more worried about this strange man who would suddenly be living in my house. About him hurting me. He could’ve been a serial killer.
Then I remembered… I had a taste for danger. I didn’t want to be murdered in my sleep but that wasn’t the vibe I was getting from him anyway. Plus, it could be nice to have someone else in the house and for whatever reason, I didn’t fear him at all.
“I’ll pay a fair price,” he assured me. “By the week?” Maybe he sensed my burst of panic.
I nodded and said, “Follow me.”
“Hey, wait,” he said as I went for my car.
I turned to him with a raised eyebrow. I was already letting him into my inner sanctum on an incredibly trying day. What more could he want?
“What happened over there?” he asked, nodding toward the spot where the Mather’s car had been.
I shrugged. “Random lightning strike?”
He narrowed his eyes on me as if he wasn’t sure I was telling the truth. “Does that happen a lot in Warwick?”
I shrugged. “It happens.” Yeah, it was weird, but I sure as hell couldn’t explain it; plus, it’d only been happening the last few days.
Honestly, I hadn’t paid much attention to it, either. I’d had a lot on my plate, including talking to Chris, the owner of the flower shop where I worked, about taking some time off. He’d said to take a few weeks, which I couldn’t afford but would just have to make do with. I needed the time. Plus, he’d seemed relieved to not have me around for a while. I couldn’t prove it, but I thought some people avoided coming into the shop when I was on the clock.
He should’ve just fired me already. Why he didn’t, I never knew but if there was one decent person in Warwick, it was him. I thought he probably felt some guilt over how the town treated us while everyone stood by and let it happen.
“I really need to move,” I muttered under my breath.
“What was that?” Luken asked.
“Nothing.” I ran my tongue over my bottom lip. He kept staring as if waiting for something more, so I rolled my eyes. “I said I really need to move. From Warwick.”
“Why’s that?” He leaned back against his motorcycle and crossed his legs at the ankle. Suddenly, an overwhelming need to take a ride hit me. A ride on the motorcycle, not on him. Though…
“Oh, uh, my grandmother died. That’s why I’m here today.” I motioned over to my grandmother’s plot. “And I don’t have any family left, so there’s no reason to stay.”
“You don’t like Warwick?”
I shook my head. That was an understatement. “No, but more importantly, Warwick doesn’t like me.”
His brows furrowed and he pushed up to his feet. “What does that mean?”
I took a deep breath and sighed. “It means staying at my house might be problematic for you, depending on why you’re here.” I pushed a piece of loose hair behind my ear as he raised an eyebrow. “Grandma and I weren’t exactly popular here. More like pariahs, actually. So some of that stigma could attach to you, even though you’re just renting a room.”
“I can’t imagine them not liking you,” he said. He cocked a half-smile that was both sexy as hell and a bit smug.
“You don’t know me. For all you know, I could boil kittens in my spare time.”
“Yet,” he countered. “I don’t know you yet. And I feel rather confident that your hobbies don’t include boiling kittens.”
“You never know,” I replied, fighting a smil
e.
That single word, yet, took my breath away like a punch to the gut. As if he intended to get to know me and I wasn’t sure I wanted him to. Or what he’d find if he did.
“You can follow me back to the house,” I said, pointing in the general direction of him. “It isn’t hard to find.”
Luken nodded, then slid a leg over his bike and with the flip of his hand indicated he’d wait for me.
Oh yeah. I really wanted on that bike.
Chapter Four
Luken
As reckless as the elders claimed Miranda to be, she drove slower than Miller’s grandma on the way back to her house after a disappointing game of Bingo.
Every stop sign lasted an eternity. Sure, when driving one should make a complete stop, but for the love of everything, she didn’t need to stop, wait, make a sandwich, and graduate from college before continuing on her way. She also practically came to a stop before every turn.
If Miranda didn’t pick it up soon, I was going to lose it. Or my motorcycle was going to stall out. But definitely one of those things would happen.
We only got halfway up the hill before I began to feel the power emanating from Serena’s house. It was warm and welcoming, but only because I was on the right side of the magic. To someone practicing dark magic, Serena’s house would’ve been spine-tinglingly scary.
How any witch or warlock could get anywhere near this house and not feel it… I had no idea. But the elders didn’t seem to think Miranda could, given that she had no idea about her heritage or her powers. Though there was always the possibility that she felt something but just couldn’t put her finger on what it was. That was how I had been before I’d known about my powers.
I used to call it intuition or a funny feeling. Now I called it being a witch and I’d had to learn things the hard way. Hopefully, I’d be able to help Miranda so she wouldn’t have as rough of a time.
The air was littered with a purple hued mist. Remnants of old protection spells lingering around Miranda and the house. Non-magical people wouldn’t have been able to see it, but I sure as hell could. Serena probably cast those spells to keep Miranda safe since Miranda didn’t know about her magical side. She’d been shielded. But those spells were only good while Serena was alive and would’ve broken the moment she died.
With all the time I’d had behind the slowest driver possible, my thoughts had wandered to whether Miranda secretly knew what she could do. I’d already witnessed her anger manifest as lightning back at the cemetery. Those strikes hadn’t been random and she could’ve killed someone, but instead, she’d warned them. I took that as a good sign.
I’d have to choose to be optimistic. After all, there was too much riding on my presence to get bogged down in the negativity just yet.
Finally, we pulled up in front of the house and I turned my engine off. Then I got off the bike, I looked around, taking everything in. The house needed work, sure. But holy shit, the entire place loomed over us like an abandoned orphanage that had been shut down by the state for keeping children chained in the basement. I rubbed a finger across my chin, trying to hide my shock. It was worse than even the elders thought.
“Oh, uh…” Miranda’s face flushed a light rose as she looked back over at her house through my eyes.
Damn. My heart sunk. I hadn’t meant to make her feel bad. Actually, it wasn’t the house. It was the dead vegetation surrounding it. Like all life had been sapped from the place. To get her attention off my surprise, I turned to the back of my bike and unlatched the small bag I had tied down back there. Just the necessities from home.
“The house has always needed work, but I don’t know what happened,” she said quietly. “My grandmother died… that’s why I was at the cemetery where you found me.” Her long, blonde locks swayed in the wind.
Her innocent, saddened eyes swung from the house to me and I hated that I couldn’t tell her I already knew so much more than she was about to say.
“I’m sorry,” I said, but my jaw tightened at just how bereft she looked again. I’d only heard of the legend named Serena Good but that legend had been Miranda’s grandmother.
The sadness had never truly left her face but when she’d looked at me, it’s softened a little. I wanted to make her feel better, but anything I did would come off as creepy since I knew more about her than she did me. It was imperative I be some part of her life and if she thought I was some creepy rapist, that would ensure I wouldn’t be.
Miranda gave me another little smile and I could see that even that small gesture took a lot of effort.
“But when she died it was like everything else did, too. All the shrubs, the grass, and the flowers died with her. Only that one tree is still standing and looks like it might survive.” She pointed at the massive tree beside the house. “I’m really surprised it’s still there.”
I nodded so she’d know I heard her but didn’t comment. The tree she pointed at was ancient with roots far deeper than Serena, but Miranda wouldn’t know that. Perhaps one day I’d explain that to her, but not yet. She wasn’t ready. Maybe I wasn’t totally ready, either.
“And the house?” I joked. Badly.
She groaned. Shit. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.
She threw her hands out to her sides. “This is what it looks like when two women live alone and one of them is in her sixties,” she snapped.
Insulting her house probably wasn’t the best way to get her to trust me.
“I can help,” I offered. No idea why I volunteered. I wasn’t supposed to get too involved. I’d been sent here as more of a guardian angel of sorts, not a handyman to fix the house. To be around but not totally in her life. To offer guidance or words of wisdom but not heavy-handed influence. Words of wisdom… what a joke. If I’d had any wisdom in my body, I would’ve figured out a way to avoid this assignment. But I’d already gotten myself into this, so… “I can fix it up while I’m here. I’m somewhat handy.”
Then again, I didn’t know why I was doing pretty much any of the things I was doing. I was supposed to be a mostly silent observer. Watching from afar and giving her space to choose her path, all while guiding her toward the light. Only Miranda clearly had no idea there were paths, or choices.
No. Back at the cemetery, she’d acted purely on instinct and emotion. A dangerous combination for untrained witches. And I couldn’t let her fail. Everything was riding on me to help her find the light.
But perhaps the elders hadn’t planned on me moving into Serena’s house. Hell, I hadn’t planned on it until she asked if the banker had sent me to the cemetery. I’d needed some way to insert myself into her life and thought asking about a room when I knew she was alone would be an easy way in.
Of course, I’d thought that she’d reject the idea but the ice would’ve already been broken. Now, something about her pulled me in. Maybe I just wanted to protect her or relieve some of her sadness. Either way, I needed to be there.
“I’ll show you around,” Miranda said. She waved for me to follow her, but she didn’t comment on my offer. Maybe she didn’t want it fixed up. Maybe she just didn’t trust me yet.
The thing was Miranda didn’t know me. Would she have rented a room to any man who’d approached her? She hadn’t asked very many questions and that could’ve been dangerous if it was someone other than me. Someone who maybe had ill intentions toward her. Did she not have any self-preservation instincts? All of this concerned me for several reasons.
“This is the living room, obviously,” she said when we stepped inside the house.
I couldn’t help but notice the way her black dress swayed over her thighs with every step she took. It shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was, given the occasion, but I was a man, after all, and she was beautiful.
Miranda took me through the dining room and the kitchen, both of which were neat but in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint and an update of furniture. Yet for some reason, I kind of loved the fact that she didn’t seem to care about any of this
shit. Any of the cosmetic needs of the house. Nothing material seemed to matter to her.
“Help yourself to anything in the fridge,” she said, pulling my attention from the curve of her hips and the strength of her legs. “Though it’s pretty bare right now.” She used her tongue to wet her bottom lip and pulled at the sleeves on her dress like it was a nervous habit. “I haven’t gone to the grocery store since…”
Her grandmother died. She didn’t need to finish the sentence for me to know. Plus, the refrigerator had more in it than mine back home.
“It’s fine,” I told her. “We’ll just have to go shopping.”
Her blue eyes narrowed on my use of the word we. Yet she didn’t question me. Instead, she continued showing me where everything was.
Turned out, every single inch of the house was in need of attention. It was clean, neat, tidy. Everything had its place. But the décor was outdated, the place in disrepair. It had good bones, so to speak, but even a paint job would’ve helped by making it lighter, airy, more cheerful. For now it was dark, moody… kind of like Miranda. I wondered if the house would change when she started to feel better.
“I tried to get her to update little things over the years,” Miranda said, breaking the silence between us. “Even just paint. I came up with so many ideas, but she always said we didn’t have the money,” she said to me as she filled a glass with water.
I clenched my jaw tightly and tried not to show any reaction. Serena Good had been wealthy beyond anyone’s imagination. I couldn’t fathom why she’d choose to live like this or where the money was. She could’ve made this place into anything she’d wanted. Yet it looked like it hadn’t been touched in twenty years. Now that she was gone, how did she expect Miranda to figure everything out? Find the money. Learn her powers. All of it.
Having never met Serena Good and with her being dead, I probably shouldn’t have been as pissed at her as I was.
I climbed the stairs behind Miranda, trying not to watch her ass as she lifted one foot after the other. It was a lot to ask. When the elders sent me to Miranda, I wasn’t really sure what I’d expected, but I definitely hadn’t expected just how beautiful she was even in the depth of her sorrow.
Witch of Warwick (Dark Coven Book 1) Page 3
