“It’s how the ward protecting the park is grounded. Mom wanted a place where elder paranormals could live out the rest of their days safely, without being hassled by their pasts.” I set the last plate on the cutting board and let the soapy water drain out of the sink. “She tied her spells into the land and the saguaros—and before you ask, I don’t know why she did it like that. If she’d used any other sort of magic, handing this place off to another magical would’ve been much easier.”
“Maybe it was to keep you here,” he said.
“I doubt it. Mom spent my formative years preparing me to be a travel witch. Lennox witches have always been nomads. We go where we’re needed.”
“The nomad life can be lonely.” The way he said it made me think he spoke from experience.
I shrugged. “It’s just how we’ve always done things.”
“Yet your lineage continues. How do you witches manage to have families with all that traveling?” He finished drying the dishes and rested a hip against my mini fridge while I put them away.
“We don’t. I don’t know my father, and he doesn’t know I exist,” I said matter-of-factly. “Mom was a traveling witch when I was born. She didn’t stop traveling until I was able to take over. As I said, it’s just how we’ve always done things—Lennox witches, I mean.”
As if I’d cued it up myself, the opening strains of “When Will I See You Again,” a sultry song by The Three Degrees played on the radio.
“You haven’t been traveling lately,” he said.
“Not this month, but I was in Arizona all of January. New Mexico and parts of Texas in November.”
“And that’s what you want?”
“It’s what’s expected of me.” I placed the clean glasses in the cabinet above the fridge.
“By whom?” Ronan looked around as if searching for someone. “I don’t mean to be harsh, but there’s no one left to expect anything of you.”
He wasn’t wrong. I was the last living Lennox witch. It was up to me to keep the line going—if I chose to. If not, our magic would end with me.
“My ancestors,” I replied.
“Figures.” Ronan scowled. “It’s always family.” The frost that had thawed in his gaze blew back in with a vengeance. His expression went from mild northwest snow flurries to North Pole arctic tundra.
“Yeah,” I said.
“What’s the second reason? You only told me one.”
“Huh?” I mentally backtracked over our conversation.
“The second reason you won’t join the coven in town. You said there were two reasons, and you only gave me one.”
My hand trembled as I put away the dish drying rack. “Because those cowardly witches were complicit in my mom’s death. As far as I’m concerned, they had a hand in it.”
Ronan’s gaze lost its coldness. “Are you saying she was murdered by the coven?”
“No, not murdered. Not like you’re thinking.” I backed up until my ass hit the edge of the dining table. “Mom called me the night she died. She was going to do a spell that might knock herout for a couple of days and I wasn’t to worry if I couldn’t reach her.”
“Knock her out? Is that normal?”
“It’s notabnormal, but it’s not something that happens a lot.” I picked at the flaking black polish on my nails. “Casting a strong spell can knock a witch out for anything from a few minutes to a few days. It’s not the everyday norm, but it happens.”
“But you didn’t think it was normal, did you?” Ronan asked.
I shook my head, long strands of dark brown hair coming loose from my braid. “There was something in her voice I didn’t like. Something off.”
Ronan watched me intently, said nothing.
“When she told me how much the spell was going to take out of her, I told her to wait for me. Two witches can carry a heavier burden than one, and her recovery time wouldn’t be as severe. I told her I could be there in a matter of hours. She assured me she was fine and didn’t require any help.”
“So you let it go? Trusted her to be able to handle the spell on her own?” His tone was gently inquisitive, not accusatory. Kind.
