Page 41 of Sight of Fate

Macklin glances up when Teague walks into the living room, but he doesn’t say a word about him carrying me. “Once I get this salad ready, steaks won’t take long. Ten minutes.”

“Push it back five,” Teague directs Macklin. “Charli’s going to grab a shower and change.” Without waiting for confirmation, he opens the door and carries me down the hall to my apartment.

With such a tight timeline, I rush into the shower immediately. To my relief, Teague doesn’t mention the boxes.

Walking back into their place fifteen minutes later, my mouth waters, and I groan. “It smells so good.” I stroll into the kitchen where Macklin’s slicing steak.

“Out,” he says, without looking at me. “Have Teague get you something to drink.”

I raise an eyebrow and glance at Teague, whose wide grin tells me this isn’t the first time Macklin has ordered someone out of the kitchen. “His domain?”

He nods. “Neither I nor Andros cooks.” He winces. “Sorry. We’ve lived together a long time. It’s going to take us a while to adjust.”

I hate that today caused a rift between them, but I can’t say I’m unhappy Andros isn’t here. “Is he okay?”

Teague pulls out my chair.

Macklin sets down a large bowl of salad. “Physically, he’s recovered. But it’s going to take him a long time to forgive himself for scaring you and everyone else. And it will take time for everyone to feel comfortable around him again. Andros has always prided his control of those baser instincts. It’s a lot of pressure, though. Bound to happen sooner or later.”

He looks at me. “But above all else, none of us like the fact that he fixated on you and endangered your life. For now, he’s going to work from home. We’ll figure out how to move forward later.” His deep voice is sad but determined.

Macklin sets a humongous steak, dripping with juices, on the plate in front of me. It’s been years since I sat down to a full dinner, much less a steak. And never one that covers the entire plate.

I glance up at the rugged man standing next to me. “Thank you.”

Hopefully, I’ll be able to eat at least half. Though I doubt it. The lunches he sent this week were packed full, giving me dinner each night too.

“And thank you for sending all those delicious lunches,” I tell him. “I’m grateful. Truly. You don’t have to keep sending them, though. I know it’s a lot of trouble. Besides, I need to use up those groceries you gave me.”

His deep blue eyes settle on me, and it’s like peering into a tranquil lake. Fathoms deep with barely a ripple. “You’re welcome. But if you’re trying to tell me to stop, it’s not going to happen.” He flicks a glance at the steak on my plate. “In fact, I’m hoping you’ll start joining us for dinner regularly.”

I’ve spent the last two years alone. In a car. Rarely speaking to anyone. For an introvert, my first ten days in Greystone have been eye-opening and exhausting. Meeting everyone, learning about supernaturals, Leif’s vision, today’s incident. I don’t know if I can give up my quiet evenings. They help me recharge. Not wanting him to think I’m rude, I don’t say anything.

Teague’s eyes narrow, but instead of calling me out like he does at work, he changes the subject. “Maureen Thompson stopped me this afternoon. She’s worried about Raine. Says she hasn’t seen her in weeks.” He shares a glance with Macklin, then turns to me. “When you spoke to Raine, how did she look?”

I lift a shoulder. “I don’t have anything to compare it to, but she seemed fine. Maybe a little tired. Is Maureen her mother?” The other seer in Greystone.

Teague leans forward and nods. “Did anything unusual happen when you were talking to her?”

I try to think back to that night. Everything felt like it hit at once. Trying to pinpoint one thing is almost impossible. “She was there when I woke up. We talked. Then, she said she had to go and would talk to me in a few days.”

There was one odd thing. Well, two. I pause, unsure if it really happened or if I’m imagining it. “She looked to her right when she was talking to me and nodded.” A line appears between Teague’s dark brows. “Almost like she was nodding at someone only she could see.”

They both exchange a glance.

“How did she leave?” Macklin asks, his voice soft but insistent. “Through the bedroom door? Or Teague’s patio?”

I can feel my cheeks redden. “I’m not sure. I closed my eyes for a brief second. When I opened them, she wasn’t there. It didn’t feel like I fell asleep, but maybe I did.”

“I’ll go by and talk to Maureen tomorrow,” Macklin states firmly. “See how long she’s been gone.”

Gone? “You mean Raine? But she was just here.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Teague says, rubbing the scruff on his chin. “Some witches can manipulate the world around them in ways the rest of us don’t understand.”

“Like astral projection?” I ask, unable to believe the words are coming out of my mouth. “Or another dimension?”

He lifts a shoulder. “Their secrets are their own.”