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Moira’s eyes met hers, and her face went white.
Paul came charging down the aisle. “Brennan, what the hell do you think you’re doing? You could have been killed!”
“I’m sorry, sir. I have to go.”
She ran out of the barn. Goldie followed, waving Paul back.
“If she’s hurt—” he began.
“She’s not. Stay here,” she told the suddenly terrified man and was relieved when he obeyed.
“Stop!” she shouted at the fleeing figure.
The tiny woman was already most of the way across the yard. Whatever talent she had, it did not take laborious writing. She seemed to leap through the air.
“Would you stop? I’m not gonna hurt you!” Goldie shouted.
Moira stood trembling like the trees behind her at the edge of the woods as Goldie jogged up to her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, that hay was extremely heavy. It’s a miracle I’m not dead.”
Goldie crossed her arms. “Number one, if you’re gonna be around for any length of time, you’re gonna learn I don’t do bullshit. Number two, don’t lie. You’re terrible at it. Number three, all I wanna know is if you’re here to hurt anyone.”
“What are you talking about?”
Goldie put her hands down. “Was it amiracle? Or was it magic?”
Goldie didn’t think it was possible to get any paler, but Moira managed it. Her freckles stood out like constellations on her cheeks. “I’m not here to hurt anybody.”
“Okay. Then we’re good.”
Moira sagged. “We’re good?”
“I mean, if I see any hint of that not being true, we’re gonna stop being good real quick.”
Moira blanched again.
Goldie sighed. “Let’s start again. I am Goldie Abbott of the Abbott Coven in Harpers Ferry.”
Goldie scanned for a reaction. Moira didn’t seem to recognize the name, or she’d already reached a maximum amount of scared.
“Is Moira Brennan your real name?” Goldie asked when she said nothing.
“Yeah. I wanted to use a pseudonym, but they needed my driver’s license and everything to hire me.”
“You ain’t from around here,” Goldie said, chagrinned to hear her West Virginia accent thicken at the accusation.
“Boston, or near enough.”
“You’re a long way from home.”
Moira seemed to find a bit of her spine, and her hands fisted as she asked, “Is there a law about crossing state lines in the constitution?”
“No, but there’s asuggestionto not cross another witch’s territory in every grimoire.”
Moira’s fingers relaxed. “I genuinely mean no harm. I just want to be left in peace.”
Goldie took a deep breath. The next question was a little harder to phrase. If Moira didn’t know about the shifters aroundher, Goldie’s question would expose the entire pack. On the other hand, if she lived here, she was going to see a bunch of poisonous wolves running around eventually.
