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“Why did I come to your house?” the woman, who had introduced herself as Marley, set perched on the edge of my sofa. Her eyes worked back and forth over the terrain of my living area as if searching for an exit. Finally, her eyes came to rest on me. She stared at me as if I were an entirely different species.
Which I supposed, from her point of view, I was.
“It’s a nice house.” I shrugged, looking around the living room. The bungalow was quaint, quiet, and on nights unlike tonight, it was peaceful. I’d done my best to make it as homey as possible. A place to come home to and forget about all the nightmares.
“Maybe you just needed a nice, quiet place to think,” I continued when the woman remained silent, still staring at me, confused and distrustful. Behind me, the kettle whistled on the stove and Marley jumped as I winced.
Perhaps I needed to get one of those fancy teakettles that plugged into the wall and beeped for occasions like this. But that just seemed like I was inviting more trouble.
As if I wasn’t already.
“That’s just the kettle,” I said, standing and walking to the kitchen as Marley attempted to get her nerves back under control. “I’m just going to make you some tea and you can tell me what’s going on.”
Sometimes, all they needed was someone to talk to. If the conversation went well, I’d make a call to Candace Burns at the local women’s shelter. Like me, Candace was a witch and understood the magnetism that drew troubled human females to witches like me. I knew Candace could help Marley, if only I could convince Marley to let her help. But first, I had to get through that initial layer of resistance.
Because what I wasn’t going to do was go to Marley’s house and use my magic to fry her insignificant other’s brains in his skull. When humans came to the doorstep of Claire Landon, it was with the subconscious hope that I would murder their problems for them.
I had only murdered two people in my lifetime and I had no intention of ever doing that again. Logically, I didn’t think that Marley wanted me to do that, either. She was just scared and my magic had called to her.
As I pulled the kettle from the burner, a loud male voice boomed from just outside the front door.
“You fuckin’ bitch!”
Turning, I saw Marley go rigid with fear. My eyes flew to the deadbolt.
Locked.
“I know you’re in there, you fucking whore! Your car is right out here, Marley!”
Marley’s chest rose and fell rapidly. Her eyes shifted back and forth from the wall to the door like one of those cat wall clocks with the swishing tails.
I held my finger to my lips, watching Marley and contemplating my next move. This wasn’t the first time I’d encountered an angry human male on my lawn wanting to know why the woman they’d abused was inside my home. But no matter how many times I’d experienced the fear that was coursing through my veins, it still felt just as raw as the first time. Each time, it made me want to run into my bedroom, slam the door behind me and hide in the corner.
Just as I had done that day eight years ago when I murdered those two warlocks.
But right now, Marley was depending on me.
And gods be damned if I was going to let this bastard take another terrified woman down.
