AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Enough. You have betrayed my trust! Three hundred years we’ve walked together, and you hid something of this magnitude from me—”
The White Witch blasted him with images. She’d felt a disturbance within her wards, and when she’d investigated, had sensed Kit—but not Kit. Even as The White Witch had moved to strengthen them, the familiar, not familiar presence had blown its way into Kit’s quarters and placed the book. The White Witch had attacked in return but received what was basically a disapproving slap. Then, the entity had withdrawn, leaving the book. The White Witch had been ready to oust the tome and burn it when she saw the title. It had confused her enough that she’d left it alone while she pondered what to do.
This had happened yesterday.
“How did Wollscombe know I needed this? How did she find me?” Kit mused.
He acknowledged there were things he wasn’t aware of. Even the Norton’s have their limit of knowledge. And their sentient home, Wollscombe Hall, well, that was one of the greatest mysteries of the world. Hell, Kit would readily admit he didn’t fully grasp how The White Witch was alive, and Wollscombe was a far bigger building. He just accepted they were, and that was final.
The White Witch poked at him, seeking reassurance and love that she’d done nothing wrong, and Kit roused himself to give her what she needed. For all her intelligence and power, there was a childlike innocence to his home. She sometimes required boosting in her confidence. And then there were times she was ready to defend her ground. The White Witch was a conundrum, but one he loved.
“Forgive me for jumping to conclusions,” Kit asked, and she blasted him with warmth and merriment.
She wanted to understand if Kit truly thought the family home had contacted her, and if so, should she be afraid? Kit sent a denial. The White Witch should never fear Wollscombe, and as for confirming it was her, Kit could only assume.
The White Witch was excited, but Kit was curious.
How could the great and imposing Wollscombe know he needed such a book, and how had she reached out to connect? It was a puzzle that would keep Kit occupied for ages.
Chapter Four.
Stephanie
She was picking flowers from the wilderness that made up her garden but produced beautiful blooms when her phone rang. Carefully juggling the basket, she let herself back into the inn and saw Maggie was calling.
“Hi honey, how’s things?” Stephanie’s voice had a delighted smile to it. She loved Maggie to bits and was always happy to hear from her.
“Which is your ghost? Isaac or Kit,” Maggie asked without preamble.
Stephanie went quiet. How on earth could Maggie know The White Witch was haunted?
“Maggie, are you okay? I thought you just mentioned a ghost!” Stephanie giggled to put her off.
Maggie turned silent, and she squirmed.
“Maggie, I don’t have a spirit, honey.”
“Nuh huh, which is he?” Maggie persisted.
“Maggie,” Stephanie said and sighed. Time to try diversionary tactics, Stephanie decided. “Ghosts don’t exist.”
“Stephanie, I want his name, and I need it now!” Maggie demanded.
Stephanie made the little noise she did when she was uncomfortable with being confronted.
Kit appeared frowning as he listened to the phone call, and she made no effort to hide it from him.
“Don’t tell her. Who is she? Why is she being so nosey?” Kit whispered.
“I can hear him, Stephanie. Which one is he?” Maggie said firmly. “Count of five, Stephanie!”
Stephanie’s gaze widened in panic as Kit shook his head. Maggie knew exactly how to play her, and she caved even as Kit narrowed his eyes.
“Kit! He’s Kit!” Stephanie cried, and a man groaned.
“You told her!” Kit accused.
“I had to. Maggie’s my best friend!” Stephanie muttered, guilt in her voice.
