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16
Athump and rattle dragged my consciousness up from a dead sleep, and my eyes popped open.
I was in Asa’s bed.
In Asa’s arms.
In my birthday suit.
And someone was stomping around in the kitchen.
Brilliant witch that I am, I left my wand in my clothes in my room.
The night swam before me in vivid details that made me flush to recall the late-night trip to the fridge for snacks that devolved into letting Asa finish what he started with the twine.
Focus.
And not on the warm dae curled around my hips, his hair tangled, and his horns denting the pillows.
Focus, focus, focus.
Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I touched the floor with my toes. I shifted my weight, little by little, until I could slide off the mattress without waking Asa, whose arms looked mighty empty without me in them.
Oh my goddess, Rue. There is someone in your house. Do you want to die?
FOCUS.
Only a handful of people could cross the wards, and I hadn’t felt foreign magic picking at their anchors.
Okay, okay.
I got this.
Brain switch flipped into the on position, I put together that if the person in the house had crossed the wards, and—from the smell of it—they were brewing coffee, then they had permission to be here.
I was in no danger. Neither was Asa.
Mmm.
Asa.
With great effort, I blocked him out, buttoned myself into his discarded shirt, and cracked open his door to find a pink-haired golem helping himself to creamer. He wore black jogging pants and a faded lilac tee that read There’s No Better Karate Instructor Than A Spiderweb In Your Face. Beneath the words, a chubby unicorn lashed out toward a psychedelic web with a powerful kick.
Pointing toward the front door, I invited him outside for a chat.
We sat on the steps together, and he quivered with what I quickly identified as laughter.
“So,” he drawled, “you got laid last night.”
Heat rising in my cheeks, I elbowed him hard enough to regret it. “Just because I came—”
“I’m sure you did.” He snickered and hooted while I spluttered. “I’ve got two words for you.”
“I don’t want to hear them.”
“Security.” He passed me his phone. “Cameras.”
With a flourish, he pressed play, and the video feed from the property spun to life.
