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“Because you’re a town elder and I’m one of the two eldest Wonderfully sisters of my generation,” Blaire cuts in, her eyes round and a “come on, buddy, catch up” expression on her face. “Blaire and I were both born on the same day, Darcy.”
“But she was born first,” I say, my thoughts racing as I catch up to her fairly brilliant train of thought, “But you’re right. To my knowledge there’s nothing in the spell that addresses twins, no reason they couldn’t both be considered the eldest, as long as they were born on the same day.”
“Which means my marriage to an elder would also renew the shield.” The excitement in her expression fades as she adds, “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that sooner. I’m a terrible, selfish, no-good sister.”
“You aren’t a terrible sister,” I say, taking her arm and drawing her farther from the bonfire, where Trevor and Paul are helping the organizers arrange the kindling. “It’s clear you love Annie very much, but not enough to rush into a marriage to someone you don’t know, and that’s as it should be. I’m assuming your plan doesn’t end in our marriage. Correct?”
She snorts. “Hell, no. It ends with Colin and Annie so convinced that we’re madly in love and planning to get hitched that they feel free to call off their wedding.”
“That’s what I thought. It’s a good plan for achieving that end. But that still leaves the shield vulnerable. The fact remains that a marriage is required to reinforce our defenses against the human world.”
“Unless we can find another way to fix the spell.”
“I doubt that’s possible,” I say, deciding it’s time to be honest with her about the chances of finding a magical work around. I explain about the witches we’ve brought in and how each expert led us to another dead end.
“Shit,” she says. “That must have been scary. I mean, before you knew we existed and were coming to town.”
“We’ve faced dire situations before. We always come out on the other side. If we were forced to rejoin the human world, we could do what other towns like ours have done.”
Her brows float up her forehead. “There are other towns like Nightfall?”
“Several. Both in the United States and abroad. They’ve developed strategies to maintain their privacy and keep humans out of their business. But obviously it’s much safer and easier if Nightfall remains hidden. It’s also a condition of your inheritance,” I remind her, in case she’s forgotten that she’s here with strings attached. “It’s best for everyone involved if you and Annie continue to assume one of you will marry an elder within the next twelve months.”
“Okay. So, while you and I are pretending to be hot for each other, you can introduce me to the other elders. I’ll keep track of who might be a good match for Annie.” She sighs. “Or for me, though honestly I’d be a horrible wife.”
“I can imagine.”
She smiles and sways closer. “Can you? What part do you think would be the worst? The way I can fix everything that breaks in your old creaky house so you’d never have to call a handyman again? Or how absolutely shameless I am in bed?”
I hold her gaze as awareness flares between us again, but I don’t respond.
I can’t. If I open my mouth, she’ll see the effect her words have had on me.
Damn it.
Her grin widens as she reaches out, running her fingers down the lapel of my suit coat. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”
I growl softly, low in my throat.
She laughs and the music of it sends my cock the way of my fangs.
Before her satisfied expression can become a full-blown gloat, I test a theory I’ve had since her chat with Gwen (aka Punky) this morning. With my eyes locked on hers I reach out to her telepathically, There’s only one flaw in your plan, my smug little goblin.
She blinks, gulps, and lifts a hand to her head, leaving little doubt my message was received, even before she stutters, “H-how are you doing that?”
Practice, I toss back, smiling as she digs her fingers into her temple. And the problem is precedent and the breed of woman I’m known to date. If Colin, the rest of my clan, and the town at large is to be convinced we’re falling for each other, adjustments will need to be made.
“What kind of adjustments?” she asks, wincing and holding up a hand. “Please. Quietly. Your brain voice is super loud.”
Then turn it down.
“Can I…” Her brows pinch closer and her eyes cross ever so slightly. “Okay, try it again.”
Testing…testing… I supply, before adding, I like this expression. It’s rather adorable. You should cross your eyes more often.
Her gaze straightens and cools. “Thanks. And yes, you’re quieter now. With a little practice, I think I could turn you all the way off.”
Relieved that my fangs have finally retreated, I speak aloud, “Perhaps your father was a warlock, after all. Your magic seems to be coming on line faster than most witches without formal training who suddenly find themselves in a environment conducive to summoning their power.”
