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“Are you performing magic on pregnant women?” Alarm fills Aspen’s words. “Untrained?”
I swat Tris’s hand away. “Nothing more than the power of suggestion, but it helps to keep her calm and resist the urge to shift. I think the barrier does all the heavy lifting. And the Alpha.”
“The Wendall witches have always blessed pregnancies, and it allows our children to be born safe and healthy.” Haut glares at me. “It is not the power of suggestion. No babies made it to term after Charlene died.”
“Yeah, grandma died, and the barrier started to fail. Coincidence?” I shake my head at him. “I’m not really blessing anyone’s bellies when I rub them.”
And I’ve rubbed a lot of bellies in the past week. Women keep stopping me on the street to ask for the magic tum-tum pat. I guess the fight put everyone in a baby-making mood.
I look across the table at Owen. “We’re going to need more houses in the next twenty years.”
He catches on to my thoughts instantly. “That will be a blessing. We’ll add it to the budget and start clearing land.”
“Rodney’s picking up a new meat delivery today,” Abony says. “He wanted to know if he can send your order up to the house right away. His freezer can’t store the extra amounts he’s bringing in.”
“I can be home to help receive the delivery,” Ros volunteers. “Jesse and I are just continuing the translation job at the bookstore after this, so it won’t be a problem to take a break.”
“You work as a translator when you’re not leading the huntsmen?” Aspen asks, latching on to the nerdy topic.
“Yes, we’ve been translating Rowe’s grimoires.” Ros leans forward eagerly. “There is a lot of duplication between each volume, which makes much of them redundant. We’re creating a searchable database that can be shared with other covens.”
Aspen’s face pales. “You’re doing what?” He turns to Mel. “Did you know about this?”
She cringes away from him. “Well, yeah, it’s a big problem in the witch community, so—”
“You’re allowing them to deface ancient grimoires and simply share the knowledge they contain with just anyone?” Face red, he thrusts to his feet. “This breaks every tradition within our community! I expect this from them. They’re children. But you, Melody, should know better.”
Silence falls over the room.
“Okay, that’s enough.” I grab the plate of bacon from next to Ros and stand. “Aspen, let’s take a walk. We need to talk. Everyone else, stay.”
Bacon in hand, I sweep from the room.
THE LAST INTERVIEW
Aspen surprises me by following me out of Nesse’s Diner. I half expected him to be stubborn and stay inside.
Maybe the man can be trained.
I hold out the plate of bacon to him. “Want a piece?”
His nose wrinkles with disgust. “I don’t ingest that which was once alive.”
“Well, that’s a load of bullshit, Mr. Wheat Toast and Fruit Cup.” I take a piece of bacon and shove it into my mouth, talking around it. “I’ll give you a do-over.”
His blond eyebrows pinch in confusion. “A do-over?”
“To rephrase that statement,” I say slowly. “You know, so it’s not a lie. Unless you really think plants aren’t alive, at which point we’re going to have a whole different conversation. I advise avoiding words such as alive, sentience, and ability to think.”
He lets out a long-suffering sigh, which really isn’t fair given the length of time we’ve known each other. “Your body is your temple, and what you put into it affects your connection to your magic. Eating clean builds a stable foundation for practicing witchcraft.”
I pick up another piece of bacon. “Wow, that sounds so boring, but you do you, boo.”
He gives me a stern frown. “Once you begin training, you’ll need to do the same.”
“Hard pass.” I turn toward the vet/hospital and start walking.
When Aspen hesitates, I click my tongue at him. “Get along, little pony. This is your final interview, so don’t dawdle.”
