“Yes,” he croaks, clearing his throat. “I just… You’re right. I’ve expended too much energy lately. And with Lazlo not well… It’ll take a moment to fire up. When it’s ready.”
“Must be an age thing,” I quip.
“Hush. It’s a Warlock thing,” he mutters. He runs a hand through his hair again, thumb lingering on the gray at his temples. “Need I remind you, with age comes experience, Ms. Frost.”
There he is. “To be fair, sir, not if you’ve been a hermit. Let’s be rational. Unless you’re seeing Governess Zeen…”
“She would be a fine match. Not for me, but someone…”
“… and you don’t date or invite strangers or any guests over—”
“You’re a wicked little Witch. I’m taking my thyme plant back.”
“—logically, when’s the last time you’ve actually had—”
“Careful, Honey.”
I bite my lip, keeping a laugh to myself. I’ll pester him later. Myname on his tongue is an awful distraction. “Any chance you’ll tell me your name now?”
He doesn’t answer. He’s actually thinking about it. Stressfully. As if I’ve asked him for his firstborn child.
Then, “No,” he answers, voice rough. “Not… today.”
“Someday? When?”
“When it’s important.”
“What does that mean?”
His jaw clenches. “You’ll know.”
Worth a shot. I’ll figure it out somehow. There are plenty of rooms in the Manor I haven’t broken into yet.
“Listen, I’m sure you were just as charmingly exasperating twenty-five years ago, but I’m glad I get to knowthisyou,” I say. “You aren’t only made up of the mistakes you made. A Farewitch helps people, and you’re worth helping. We’re doing this.”
He sighs. Deeply. Like he just lost a debate with himself. Takes another ragged breath. “You truly want to hunt the Witch hunting us?”
“I thought you knew me by now, Mr. Knight.” My smile thins. “This might be our only chance to save your life.”
“Lazlo is my life. I just want him safe.”
“Then do this for him, too.”
Reluctantly, he nods. “Fine. For Lazlo. For the Frosts.” He rummages in his pocket and pulls out a plastic yellow tube the length of a pencil. “For you.Bottled epinephrine.”
But there’s no time to gloat over my win.
The impending summer solstice is too much of a merciless calendar on the wall.
Chapter Thirty
THURSDAY, JUNE 16
5 DAYS UNTIL THE SUMMER SOLSTICE
Honey’s Helpful Hint, from
Honey Frost’s Southern Cookbook for Recipes Gone Wrong:
