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She went to her bedroom and after closing the door, she planted a hand between her breasts. She could feel her heart pounding. What was it about Connor that ramped her up so completely?
She needed some help calming down. She crossed to the bedside table and lit the small candle beneath a miniature cauldron. The flame would be enough to warm up the water and send lavender streaming through the air. For her, nothing eased her like this fragrance.
The room quickly filled with the edgy floral scent. From her chest of drawers, she withdrew a packet of bay leaves. Taking a small one out, she slipped it under her tongue. Bay had a protective effect and would also support her present need for wisdom. She couldn’t keep the leaf in place for very long, however, or she would easily slide into a vision-state.
She removed Connor’s shirt, folded it up and set it outside her bedroom door. She’d almost thrown it on the bed, which would have been nothing short of a witchy invitation for the man to hurry in here and take possession of her body.
The same earlier sensation returned of craving Connor desperately. She almost retrieved his shirt from the hall. After all, would it really be so bad to make use of his incredibly muscular body?
When her mind began to swirl faintly, she plucked the bay leaf from her mouth, crossed to the brew pot and laid it on top of the small lavender flowers and stems.
Time to get cleaned up. She slid into a robe, gathered up a fresh set of clothes and crossed the hall to the bathroom, the only one in her small house.
Once in the shower, she dipped beneath the spray.
Nothing could have felt better than the stream of hot water hitting her neck and shoulders. She washed her hair as well since the explosion had given her an odd metallic smell.
She’d always found showers a cleansing experience on more than one level. Given what she’d just been through, she spoke a series of incantations to purify her soul, her body and her home from all bad influences. She thought perhaps in this way, her desire for Connor might be eased as well.
When she finally shut the shower off, a new wind blew through the bathroom, smelling of thyme again.
“Violet, you’re here?” She was surprised to have another visit. In all this time, she might have felt her sister’s presence on occasion, but never with this level of connection which also involved telepathy.
Yes, I’m here, Iris. A sense of urgency accompanied her words.
“I can feel that you’re distressed. What’s wrong? Is there something you need me to do?”
Save Connor.
She wondered if she’d heard right. “You want me to save Connor?”
Yes.
Iris would have asked what she meant, but just like that, the wind swept from the room and Violet was gone.
Iris stood very still for a long time processing the strange conversation. But it made no sense. Why did Connor need saving?
~ ~ ~
Deep in the garden, Connor stared up at the owl named Sebastien. He was a sturdy-looking, beige and brown predator bird and sat on one of several large branches of a massive sissoo tree. As a forest creature, he was way out of his element in the desert, yet he looked at home in Iris’s garden.
Connor had never been in a witch’s dwelling before and what he’d seen earlier had stunned him. Plants grew everywhere within her home, in dozens of pots and containers, many of them creeping over trellises and latticework attached to the walls. A yellow cat had sat near the legs of the dining table, watching him as he moved around the small rooms. Her house might be a detached home, but it wasn’t much bigger than his townhouse.
And here in the garden, he felt as though the plants were all leaning toward him and trying to talk to him. It was odd, yet pleasant in a way he couldn’t explain.
He was definitely in Elegance.
“Everything okay?”
He heard Iris’s voice and turned toward her. At the same moment, a wind suddenly hit him in the back. He even lurched forward a couple of steps.
The same gust flowed in Iris’s direction. When it reached her, she held out both hands and closed her eyes, savoring whatever this was.
A few seconds later, the night was once more very still. “What was that?”
“Violet, my deceased sister. She’s been active tonight, though I’m not sure why. I think she’s worried about me.”
As she moved onto the patio near what appeared to be a small workroom on the right, she stopped near a tall lattice of blooming, purple flowers. He watched the flowers sway in her direction. It was like seeing music take physical shape. The cat crossed the threshold behind her. The owl hooted.
