“What have you tried to control it?”
She surprised me into looking at her. “What?”
Deirdre shrugged. “You’ve found a short-term solution with whatever is in the bag, but I’m assuming you’ve also looked for long-term solutions to control what goes wrong. Didn’t your coven work with you?”
Bitterness swamped my mouth and I looked away again, debating throwing myself to the porch just to avoid having to admit to how many times I’d been rejected in my life. “We moved around a lot when I was a kid, so no one would realize that I had a problem, and then… well, I managed to hide it for a while. When they found out, they weren’t…pleased.”
Which was the understatement of the century.
She made a thoughtful noise, her head tilted. “But you’re powerful. Got some oomph to those little accidents. A lot of covens would overlook the control issue just for the strength.”
Maybe she already knew about Rocko, since that had been his proposal. I shivered and rubbed my hands together, ignoring the sharp look she gave them as they moved. Like she thought I might have charged them up for another shock. “They were…traditional. Didn’t like the potential for drawing too much attention, especially since we were in a conservative area. The kind where witch-burnings are still a distinct possibility, with the right proof.”
Deirdre grimaced with understanding, then waved her hand to dismiss whatever she’d been thinking. “That’s just one coven, though. You must have been looking for a while, though?”
I didn’t want to talk about Rocko. I really, really didn’t. “A while. Nothing ever seems to help.”
Those dark eyes weighed and measured me until I started to get nervous. “Do you want to fix it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want things to change? It’s not my business to help you fix a problem if you’re okay with the problem itself.” She frowned as she sat up and craned her neck, and the sound of muffled cursing reached us through the windows. Deirdre’s expression cleared. “There he is.”
I turned in the chair but knew I was too much of a coward to face Henry right away. My legs were weak, that was for damn sure, and wouldn’t carry me to the door to let him in. Luckily though, it wasn’t necessary. Deirdre hadn’t locked the door, and Henry fumbled with the knob until the heavy wood door swung in, knocking aside the chair she’d propped there.
My jaw dropped when I saw him. Completely stark naked and unashamed, though there was certainly nothing to be ashamed of in the muscled physique marked by more than a few scars. I blinked and my whole face heated, but I couldn’t look away.
He stumbled as he walked in and almost shut the door on the cat, though the massive feline hissed and swatted at him in warning before sauntering into the living room. Henry shook himself—a full-body shake, like a dog after a bath—and frowned as he looked around. “What happened?”
I couldn’t speak, my mouth dry with humiliation. I braced for the attack, the accusations, the yelling. Him demanding an apology or worse, maybe demanding that Deirdre kick me out or call the police.
Deirdre glanced toward the kitchen and the rising voices arguing over what “making lunch” actually meant, then sighed and shoved to her feet. “You got zapped and went into a shift. That’s it.”
“Oh.” Henry frowned at me and I flushed, trying to keep my attention north of his chest. His well-formed, slightly furred chest. “Is it lunchtime yet?”
“If your stupid alpha would get off his ass and do more than order people around, yes, it is.” Deirdre huffed in irritation and strode toward the kitchen, raising her voice enough that the occupants of the kitchen immediately silenced. “It’s past time for lunch, actually, and I’m getting suspicious about why it’s taking so long.”
Which left Henry looking at me and me avoiding looking at him, and the cat sitting on the stairs watching us both. Out of the three of us, it seemed like Henry was the only one not judging.
