Page 31 of Enchanted to Meet You

Slowly, Derrick laid down his fork.

“I know,” I said quickly. “The WCW doesn’t hold astrology in the highest regard.” The Council didn’t just disregard it. I knew from online posts by disgruntled former members that they called it—along with tarot card reading, numerology, and palm reading—“the least disciplined of the divinations.” But this was mainly because of social media influencers using it online for clout. That wasn’t nearly as offensive—to me, anyway—as politicians misappropriating the termwitch hunt. “But you said yourself that each witch channels the energy of the universe around her differently—or something like that. Just because Esther does it through astrology doesn’t mean she isn’t the one we’re looking for. She even knew I was a witch. Of course, that was because you’re making me wear this dumb Gaia amulet—”

His gaze on me sharpened. “That ‘dumb Gaia amulet’ is for your protection.”

“Yeah, well, fat lot of good it’s done for me so far.”

He folded his arms across his chest, causing his biceps to swell. “You’re not dead, are you?”

“Wow. Impressed with yourself much?” I pushed away from the counter and busied myself with clearing our lunch plates, mainly so I’d be distracted from his arms. “For your information, I could have handled that thing with Rosalie back there without your help. I’ve been handling her foryearswithout you and your magic fingers.”

“Have you, though?” He was unimpressed. “A witch with powers like that could be using them to do so much good in the world—making it rain in drought-stricken areas, or the sun come out in areas afflicted by storms. But instead she chooses to use them for petty grievances.”

“How is thatmyproblem?” I demanded. “I thought that’s what ‘entities’ like yours—whatever it is—and the Council are for: keeping witches like Rosalie, who abuse their magic, in line.”

He frowned. “Have you reported her?”

“No. Why should I bother? If the Council doesn’t want me or witches like me, why should I help them?”

“You’d be helping the world, actually, not the Council,” he said. “But I understand.”

“Do you?” I glared at him. “For someone who isn’t a Council member, you certainly seem to be on their side.”

His frown turned into a shadow of a smile, and for once, that silver-eyed gaze seemed to soften. “I’m only on one person’s side, Jessica—yours.”

This reply—and the smile—was so disarming that for a second, I could only blink at him in surprise... until he broke the unexpectedly intimate moment by adding, quickly, “And West Harbor’s. And Esther’s. I’m on her side, as well. So when are you meeting her again?”

“I don’t know.” I had to turn away from him because I’d found the sudden softness of his gaze unsettling. I made a big deal out of putting the dishes in the dishwasher. Pye, who’d apparently been waiting for Derrick to pet him again, finally realized that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, and took the opportunity to exit through the cat flap in the back door. “It was awkward. The bell was ringing. We exchanged numbers, though.”

He shoved himself away from the counter, the feet of his stool squeaking noisily against my wood floor. “If Esther is the One, we need to get started on her training right away in order for her to be ready by the Hunter’s Moon.”

“The what?” I turned from the sink to face him as he came into the kitchen. His gaze remained unnervingly bright.

“The Hunter’s Moon. It’s the full moon that appears after the harvest, when the fields have been reaped and hunters can see their prey at night. This year’s Hunter’s Moon happens to fall on the same night as the Tricentennial Ball, which happens to be the night before Halloween, which is when the veil—”

“Between this world and the spirit world is at its thinnest, I know, I remember.” God, this guy and his prophecies. “But if the Hunter’s Moon is when there’s going to be some apocalyptic battle with the forces of evil in West Harbor, I don’t see how Esther’s telekinesis and ability to read their exact astrological chart is going to help.”

“That... is... why... we... have... to... train... her.” A muscle was leaping around in Derrick’s jaw, like he was trying hard not to say something he’d regret. “Do you have any more coffee?”

“Uh, I think you’ve had more than enough coffee.” The muscle in his jaw wasn’t the only thing jumping. Some veins in his neck were also throbbing. “In fact, if you ask me, what you need instead of more caffeine is a nap. Why don’t you go back to your hotel and take a little siesta? Then I can go to my shop and check on how Becca is doing. We can meet up again later and see if there’s anything left of my car to salvage, and decide what to do next about Esther’s training.”

But instead of agreeing with my very sensible plan, he looked even more stressed, his brows lowering as he looked away. “I don’t nap.”

“What do you mean, you don’t nap? Everybody naps. Napping is so good for you. It increases alertness and improves memory—”

“I can’t go back to my hotel room, all right?” He finally raised his gaze, and when he did, I saw that his eyes looked blue andamber again. “I couldn’t get a hotel room. Everything is booked solid because of all the leaf peepers and this stupid Tricentennial.”

“Wait, so I was right?” I wasn’t sure I believed what I was hearing. “You reallyhavebeen living in your car?”

“No, not living in it.” He was defensive, but adorably so, like Pye when he tried to leap onto the kitchen counter, but missed. “I found a twenty-four-hour fitness center. I’ve been showering and keeping some of my things in a locker there.”

“Oh my God, Derrick, why didn’t you say anything? I have a spare bedroom. You can stay here.”

Now, instead of defensive, he looked uncomfortable. “That wouldn’t be right.”

“Why? Does it violate some HR code at the WCW? Who cares? You said you didn’t even work there.”

“I don’t,” he said. His hands had strayed toward the pockets on his jeans. He’d shoved his fingers into them like some schoolboy who’d been caught doing something naughty, when literally all we were doing was discussing what I assumed were going to be some completely platonic sleeping arrangements—much as I might wish the situation to be otherwise. Seeing his discomfort over this was truly the highlight of my day so far. “I’m supposed to be protecting you. And Esther, if she’s the Bringer of Light,” he added hastily.