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Guilt gnawed at me for the harsh words we’d said, but not enough to make me apologize. She’d put up her defenses well before I had.
Keep telling yourself that.
At the end of the hall, the bathroom was small, but not cramped. Warm light cast over the sandstone floor and shower. A stack of clothes waited for me on the black quartz countertop. In the sink, I scrubbed many of the stains off my brown Carhartt coat. The amount of ash and blood that came out of it was impressive.
It really is an honest value for an honest dollar, I thought and smiled to myself. I should try to get an advertising gig with them.
I noticed the small red stain on the collar, and my smile died. I still didn’t understand how Freya’s mom’s blood had gotten on my coat. My head pounded, and I abandoned the thought. I hung my jacket on the towel rack to dry and was relieved to learn that witches used normal shampoo, even if it had a sweeter scent than my usual brand.
When I emerged from the steaming water, I found that the clothes left for me must’ve once belonged to a pretty bulky dude. They hung on me awkwardly but looked familiar.
Anger reignited in my stomach.
Ryder.
I wore Ryder’s clothes.
Though I loathed wearing anything of that prick’s, I couldn’t afford to be picky. I was lucky Freya had found me anything to wear. Still, I couldn’t shake my pissy mood. I stormed out of the bathroom to resume my post at Cadence’s side. Hours passed and, though I’d had one of the longest days of my life, I couldn’t bring myself to sleep.
I bet she’s cold.
Night had fallen a while ago and the temperatures had dropped, even inside the cottage. A fire had magically lit, nearly scaring me to death. I hadn’t even noticed the fireplace nestled in the corner of the living room. Its heat quickly filled the cottage. The burning wood snapped and crackled.
If not for Cadence, I would’ve already doused the thing. The warmth was nice, but it reminded me too much of dying undead creatures.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the fear in their eyes as they burned. I remembered feeling relief at the sight of it.
I watched Cadence sleep and considered asking Freya for that potion. Even if it killed me, at least I’d get some peace. I wouldn’t have to mull over the fact that my baby sister was a part of this world—a world with incredible magic, snarky werewolves, and undead monsters.
Hell, I thought, a world with a shapeshifting cat.
When I’d started this quest, the goal had been to keep Cadence from all of this, not introduce her to it. All I’d wanted was to solve some witch murders and go back to my regular job on the ranch.
As if you still have a job.
It was unlikely. Nathan wasn’t the forgiving type, and I’d missed quite a few days without notice. Regardless, being unemployed was a problem I craved. There were plenty of other ranches to work at, but only so many beings who could train a witch. Freya had offered, but I had no clue what that entailed.
What if she joins a coven?
It wasn’t like I could join with her.
A door clattered shut behind me, and I jumped to my feet.
It was only Freya. She stormed out of the kitchen and into the living room. She almost passed me by without a word but stopped when she reached the hall between the bookshelves.
“I’m not a coward,” she said, “and neither are you.”
Freya faced me. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. Her curls were frizzier than normal, as if she’d run her fingers through them too many times. She almost looked human. I wanted to take back every mean thing I’d said to her, but my mouth operated faster than my brain.
“Is this your version of an apology?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips.
“Is this your way of accepting it?” she shot back.
I glanced at Cadence, whose little chest rose and fell in a perfectly steady rhythm. Freya followed my gaze.
“She’s stronger than you give her credit for,” Freya said, “even if she is a witch.”
