Page 28 of A Time of Witches

A brilliant light flared and faded, revealing the manor transformed to the way Lilith had seen it in her vision in Savannah. Gone were the layers of grime and abuse. The house stood upright once more, windows gleaming, exterior clean and creamy white in the sun. The bushes were landscaped to identical wide domes and the clean fragrance of rosemary wafted from an unseen garden.

She blinked and the image cleared, returning to the abandoned manor house.

Her heart lurched.

What had she just seen?

“You all right?”

Asher’s voice broke through her shock.

“Did you see that?” she asked.

He lifted a brow and regarded the house before looking back at her. “What did you see?”

“I thought I saw a flash of light.” She shook her head, not about to get into what she’d actually seen.

He withdrew an old-fashioned skeleton key and slid it into the ancient lock. The door clicked and groaned open, revealing the Great Hall.

Light struggled in through the windows, illuminating a long table splitting the center of the capacious room. Swords were crossed in X formations on the wood-paneled walls, and curtains hung from the tall windows, their color obscured by shadows. Dust sifted over the stone floors, fine as baker’s flour, and she vividly recalled when it had been strewn with fresh rushes, mixed with lavender and meadowsweet.

A voice echoed through the room, foreign and familiar at once, muffled as if underwater.

The clatter of a pan hitting the floor sounded distantly, followed by a glass breaking.

Lilith startled and gave an anxious, self-deprecating smile as she glanced at Asher to see his reaction to the sudden sound.

He arched that same eyebrow at her, making her feel as weird as she always feared she was.

Clearing his throat, he said, “Well, this is the manor.”

Lilith stepped hesitantly forward. “Can I explore a little?”

He thrust his hands into his pockets and gave a little shrug. “Just not the top floor or the attic.”

“Why not?”

A muscle flexed in his jaw and he hesitated for more than a beat. “They’re not safe.”

His delayed reply nudged at Lilith’s awareness. He was lying.

Still, it was his house and she’d play by his rules.

She explored the downstairs area, going first to the marble hearth carved with a pair of Greek goddesses on either side, one holding a scroll, the other with her head lifted in pride. Exactly like the vision she’d had in Savannah. Heat blossomed in the crook of her arm near her birthmark.

Her gut told her this manor held the key to what she needed.

Asher followed a foot behind her, studying her every move. Unsettled by his apparent distrust and the idea of being so thoroughly micromanaged, she kept her hands tucked behind her back.

The kitchen had an island with a blue flecked Formica countertop, a jarring difference from the stone hearth with an ancient iron crane-looking apparatus on the side. She could envision a massive pot hanging from its hook.

She blinked. Actually, she truly could see the outline of a pot hanging from the hook, the rich aroma of stew flavoring the air.

She breathed in the savory scent. “Do you smell that?”

He frowned. “Smell what?”

Lilith cringed. He must think she was a few peas short of a casserole. “Nothing.”