Page 71 of A Time of Witches

Exactly where she was supposed to be.

He glanced down to her mouth and her heart caught in her chest where it remained, stuck like gum. Waiting for him to make the first move.

Desperate for him to make the first move.

He smiled and looked down at the ground. “Good night, Lilith.”

Disappointment washed over her, raw and tangible. “Good night, Asher.”

They turned in opposite directions, Lilith suddenly eager for the solitude of her room, where she breathed out a long exhale. She set Dragon on the bed. He yawned, revealing sharp white teeth and a curl of pink tongue.

Do you think it’s OK to have a relationship with one’s bed and breakfast owner? Lilith texted.

Essie replied immediately: It is absolutely encouraged, and I want all the details!

Lilith bit her lip. But what if I ruin it like everything else? This trip is so important.

Essie: You’re killing me. Embody Elizabeth Bennet and go for Mr. Darcy.

Lilith: She turned him down the first time, remember?

This time Essie’s reply came in all caps: KILLING ME! 💀

Lilith laughed, but her mirth dimmed as she prepared for bed—as chilling memories of the dream from the night before replaced the pleasant heat from her flirtations with Asher.

Because she wasn’t here to have some rom-com detour. She wasn’t even here to explore her family tree, like she’d let Essie believe. Though that was only partially true.

Her life was in danger, and somehow she might could get wiped clean away from the world.

August 27…

And though she had the ingredients for a charm written in some old magical book—which admittedly was simultaneously cool and ominous—she would only have two days left when she woke up.

She didn’t know what was on the other side of those two days, but she was terrified to find out.

Before going to sleep, she took the small pouch from Aunt Jacqueline and placed it under her pillow, hoping it might be as effective as the peppermint tea had seemed.

And if those simple herbs made a difference, what might the combined effects of them in an actual charm do?

Because at this point, she needed all the help she could get.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Sybil

The wood-paneled room still reeked of temptation for Sybil, the savory aroma of roasted goose and the stale tang of ale. How many times a day did Hopkins torment his prisoners with the allure of a full meal?

How many prisoners just below their feet had stomachs gnarled with hunger and throats burning with thirst?

She was forced to stand before the desk once more.

Hopkins steepled his long fingers in front of his face. “You have been difficult, Mrs. Brantham.”

Last time she had been weakened by starvation and thirst. Now she kept her back straight, her stance proud despite her deplorable appearance. “You mean, I am innocent.”

“No.” His lips thinned with apparent disapproval. “That is not what I mean. I have a signed declaration from someone in your household saying you whisper with the Devil at night. That you made a poppet for tormenting your neighbors.”

The accusation struck like a slap.