1
Ellora
18 years ago
Strands of damp hair stuck to my cheeks. Even though the sun sat low in the sky, the temperature outside was still in the high nineties. It wasn’t much cooler in the kitchen.
My body ached from the endless kneading of dough. But at least we had a few days’ worth of loaves.
Tomorrow I’d begin working on the potions for the market on Saturday. Nova mentioned the other day that many of the older women who came asked for remedies to relieve painful arthritis, so she suggested we should try making some.
And by we, she meant me.
I sighed while glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall.
Adam had been gone for three days, leaving me in charge of the farm and the other witches. I didn’t mind the responsibility, having run the Nightshade Coven back in the day, but each time he left for mage meetings, I feared he wouldn’t return.
Or worse, that one of them would figure out I was still alive.
Adam assured me none of his fellow mages were powerful enough to break his mind shields, but it didn’t stop me from worrying.
“I’ve cleaned out the coop.” Willow’s sullen voice jolted me from thoughts of my mate. I placed the last loaf onto the cooling rack and wiped my hands on a towel.
“Were there any eggs?” Something scared the chickens witless a few days earlier, and none of them had laid an egg since.
The young witch shook her head, refusing to meet my gaze.
“Nope. Just shit.” I pursed my lips at her coarse language but stopped short of scolding her. Nothing I said or did made a damn bit of difference. Only Adam commanded her respect.
“Okay, never mind.”
“Am I done for the day?” Her gaze slid over to the tray of cookies I’d baked, and my heart softened a fraction. Perhaps Adam was right when he said I needed to be more understanding.
Losing her mom and dad in a car wreck had traumatized the girl. The mountain lion shifter who’d caused the accident had stumbled away with barely a scratch. If he’d called for help, Willow’s parents might have lived. Instead he disappeared into the forest, and it took a mage task force a week to track him down.
Poor Willow ended up trapped in the wreckage with the bodies for a whole day before a passing farmer found them.
“Go check on Raven for me, and then you can both have a cookie.”
Willow’s eyes lit up. “Sure.”
I watched as she hustled outside to where my toddler daughter sat playing in the dirt with her dolls. Raven giggled, happy her favorite witch was free to play with her.
Willow might not like me all that much, but she seemed to care for my daughter. The two of them were thick as thieves, despitethe ten-year age gap. I half wondered whether that would change when Willow’s magic manifested. Once it came in, she’d begin casting lessons with Adam and me.
No doubt that would lead to further rebellion and sulking.
I forced my tense shoulders to relax. Perhaps I’d let Adam handle her; he was much better at dealing with the girl’s moods. I no longer had any patience for difficult adolescent witches with an attitude problem. Being in pain much of the time left me exhausted most days; healing magic only went so far in solving the issues caused by a difficult birth.
The sun sank behind the trees in a pool of fire while I finished tidying the kitchen. A vegetable stew bubbled on the stove, and all that remained was to cook some rice with beans.
Raven would need a bath before dinner, so once the counters were clean, I went to call her and Willow inside. Only there was no sign of either of them. Just a pile of dirt and Raven’s dolls scattered in a circle.
A muffled giggle drifted over from the herb garden, so I hurried that way, praying Willow had had the good sense not to let Raven pick herbs. Some of them were toxic when touched without protective gloves.
The girls sat in the shade of the live oak, whispering. My shoulders relaxed. No matter how many times Adam reassured me it was safe out here, I never quite believed him.
Just as I took a step forward, I heard a faint rattle from the scrub and froze as a thick-bodied rattlesnake slithered out and lunged at Raven.
