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Aiden pointed to the porch. “So we’re just doing a little preparation.” Everything in him wanted to put her back on the horse and send her far away from danger, but he could not keep her safe and keep her. “You in?”
She kissed him so hard she bruised his lips against his teeth before she said, “Hell yeah.”
They marched together toward their home.
19
Goldie felt like she was ten again making a fort in the woods full of spells like “Projectile bubbles” and “Rainbow attack.” Only now the fort was an incredible house, and the enemy was not invisible gnomes but a very real apex predator. If only her spells actually worked.
She stood on the back porch, examining her last attempt. It was supposed to be an alarm spell to warn them if anyone tried the back door. She didn’t expect it to be needed, so she shouldn’t have been so annoyed it wasn’t working. The spell would just not calibrate. Either it went off if a breeze rustled the grass by the door or she could walk right up and open the door, and it would ignore her completely.
“Hey, there,” Aiden said.
She hadn’t heard him approach. He was just there by her side, running his hand from her shoulder to her wrist.
“Don’t mind me,” she said. “It’s just some minor magical incompetence.”
His hand kept up its rhythmic pattern as he looked at the doorframe. “What are you trying to do?”
“It’s just an alarm. It’s supposed to go off if a bogeyman approaches the door and not at any other time.”
“I don’t think someone’s going to try a rearguard action.”
She was insulted that he didn’t think she could do it, even if she agreed with him, which must’ve shown on her face because he squeezed her elbow. “But it’s great to have just in case.”
He backed away slowly as she spun to the door. “Warn me, so mote it be. That means no squirrels, no branches, no allies, but all bad guys!”
“What happens next?” Aiden asked.
She thought he’d gone back to the front of the house. “What do you mean, what happens next? It does what I say.”
She opened the door and waved a hand in front of it. A clanging whoop echoed through the house. “I know some people say I’m my own worst enemy, but I didn’t mean me.”
“I’ve never seen someone say a spell.”
She turned to him. “How is that possible?”
“When would I? Ma doesn’t use words.”
“Never?”
He shook his head. “Never needed ‘em.”
Goldie thought of the intricate wards and was gobsmacked all over again. Kathleen had done all that with only potions and brews. It was a monumental achievement. She whispered a word of apology for tearing it to pieces, even though Aiden was still alive because she had.
“Your mom and I have the same kind of magic. We create patterns out of chaos. She does it with potions. I do it with written words.”
“Fascinating.”
“I got the absolute worst kind,” she said feelingly.
He grinned. “You got my favorite kind.”
She felt a rush of love for him and his books, and something occurred to her. “My sister is married to a shifter. He’s a paramedic.”
He blinked at the non sequitur. “Congratulations?”
“She’s a nurse and the coven healer. Her magic is healing.”
