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Stephanie hung up and turned to see a fading image of Kit glaring at her. Before she could speak, he disappeared completely, but there was an air of disapproval that lingered.
Kit
Stephanie loved this ‘Cole’? Kit wondered why it bothered him. The girl meant nothing to him except another responsibility he damn well didn’t want or need. Stephanie was an unwelcome distraction in the calmness of his life. But these things were sent to test him, he thought ruefully. Although Stephaniewasturning out to be quite the problem. Even with her quiet mannerisms.
Kit found he rather liked Stephanie and her personality. It wasn’t loud or abrasive, rude or callous. Instead, Stephanie was calm, softly spoken, polite, and considerate. In the past, she would have been regarded as a wallflower. Despite that, Stephanie would have been a prized catch in the marriage market.
Kit stopped drumming his fingers on his armchair as he realised his thoughts. His spine straightened, and he shook his head in disbelief. Stephanie? Wife material?
Blast this chit.
She was an unwelcome intrusion in his thoughts. Kit had never obsessed over a woman so much. But then again, Kit had never had to defend someone he was chasing from his inn.
Stephanie had brought a danger to the inn that he’d never encountered before.
Kit knew of Human Killers because his brothers had fought one, and to say it hadn’t been an easy win was an understatement. Lucian had spoken of how the vile emotionshad weakened them without them even realising it. The strategy was to manifest it and swiftly remove its head. Or so he thought. Kit wasn’t as certain now. He had paid little attention to Lucian at the time. But as it could kill in either form, the Human Killer never needed to solidify.
Yes, Stephanie had brought a real humdinger to his inn, and Kit couldn’t say he was amused.
His plan was to hit the few books he had with him. Kit rued the day that he so causally denied the need for magic books at The White Witch. The library at his family home provided outstanding coverage of anything paranormal. Sadly, the pitiful few volumes Kit had there were not what he needed in the way of knowledge. Even so, he’d still scour them and hope that there’d be something that might help him.
Kit really needed to remember if beheading the Human Killer was correct. It was likely they’d only get one shot at ending it.
Kit moved to the bookshelves that held the precious few tomes he had when his eyes caught on an old dull red leather one. The faded and cracked gold writing was one he’d never seen before, and Kit frowned as he pulled it from the shelves. Kit couldn’t control his reaction as he read the cover title, ‘The Factes and Fictions of the Human Killer Mastere Ghouls’.
Kit grasped it tightly; this was most definitely not one of his works.
Slowly, Kit brought the book to his nose and sniffed deeply. There it was, the hint of sandalwood and smoke, of crisp parchment and ink. The scent that Kit would know anywhere. This book had come from Wollscombe Hall’s home library.
How on earth? He was shocked beyond belief as he turned the book in his hands. Kit could almost feel the fire roaring in the library and the smell of old and new books hanging in the air. The glistening lights as the sun shone through the stained-glasswindows and made beautiful patterns on the shining wooden floor.
It was a place Kit knew as well as his beloved White Witch. He’d spent hours each day of his childhood in there with his father, learning an entirely different education from what the private tutor taught. There, Kit learned the real meaning of honour, respect, and duty. He was taught to recite the family tree, generation by generation, and the great deeds they’d performed or not.
Kit couldn’t deny this book came from his Wollscombe library. But how?
“Lady mine,” he murmured and sensed The White Witch hide.
Oh no, she wasn’t going to play games.
“Don’t even try it!” Kit warned as he sensed The White Witch withdrawing.
She sent him a curious chirp instead, and Kit nearly smiled. His inn was pleading innocence.
“Where did this book come from?” Kit demanded.
A wave of puzzlement and concern hit him as The White Witch looked over his shoulder in curiosity. But he knew better. He and his inn had been joined for three hundred years. Kit wouldn’t allow her to use her usual tricks and get away with it.
“This came from Wollscombe, and how convenient that it arrived now. Right when I need a book on Human Killers and their tendency to turn to Master Ghouls. And lady mine, do not think I don’t recognise the smell of home on this book; I most obviously do. Have you been in contact with Wollscombe Hall all this time?” Kit demanded, allowing a little of the hurt he experienced to escape.
The White Witch instantly sent reassurances to Kit, which failed to mollify him. He had no intention of letting his inn wriggle out of this one. Oh, she was trying, no doubt, but Kit was just as determined.
“Are you in contact with the family home?” Kit asked sternly.
A rude noise came from the inn, and Kit arched an eyebrow. Blast it to high heaven. His inn was!
“Honestly? You’ve been able to reach Wollscombe and haven’t made me aware?” Kit blasted as he sank into his armchair. The level of betrayal he felt was immense, and he knew The White Witch sensed it.
She shied away from his feelings, all the while sending denials at him, but the book in his hand said differently.
