Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
‘If you want the other half dug up and replanted on your side of the metaphorical fence, I’ll get my wolves to do it while they’re tidying our landscape – so long as you don’t care that they’re on your land.’
She would have asked why he’d do her such a favor, but she supposed it was more that he wanted the garden out of his way. And, well, they were allies now.
‘I don’t mind.’ She took another sip of her tea. ‘They should be careful, though. Some of those plants aren’t friendly. They snap. Sting. Bite. That sort of thing. And they’re all toxic.’ Millicent had doted on them like they were her children.
‘I don’t want any magickal surprises. Is there a chance Millicent laid any traps on the land for trespassers?’
Emberlyn hadn’t considered that before but, knowing her grandmother . . . ‘She might have. Want me to come take a look?’
‘It’d be appreciated.’
Emberlyn drained her cup and then placed it on the porch table. ‘Let’s go, then.’
They descended the steps together and strode down the path. Though their bodies didn’t touch, it felt as though they did on account of the static buzz of energy he was giving off. She suspected it was due to the fact that there’d be a full moon tonight.
They exited the front yard and then circled around to the unfenced land on the right of the manor. It was a pretty sight, complete with various trees – hawthorn, apple, hazel, blackthorn.
‘How are your heels not sinking into the soil?’ asked Ripper, a slight gruff note to his voice.
She smiled. ‘Magick.’ The wild grass brushed over her feet as she followed him to where one of his wolves stood.
Said wolf curved his mouth. ‘Hi, Emberlyn,’ he greeted, his deep-brown eyes smiling.
She felt her lips hike up. ‘Morning.’ She liked Kerr. Tall and burly with unkempt russet hair, he was a good guy. One of the Watchers.
There wasn’t a police force at Chilgrave. The town had what was basically a crisis unit. Anyone could be a Watcher. They protected, safeguarded, resolved issues and enforced laws.
Ripper wore authority, so he was an obvious choice for a Watcher. He hadn’t accepted the position when offered it, though. He would hunt, put out metaphorical clan fires, lead search parties and all that jazz. But he mostly focused on his clan.
Kerr’s smile dimmed. ‘It must be weird being in that house with no Millicent plodding around.’
‘Not as much as you might think. A lot of the time, she was in the basement or her study, so I was mostly left to my own devices.’
Both males frowned at that, seeming surprised.
‘Anyway, let’s check that she left no magickal landmines.’ Chanting low, Emberlyn let out a thin rope of glittering magick motes that snaked along the grass, searching. ‘Don’t worry, my magick won’t damage your land or set off any traps; only locate them, if there are any.’
‘What you did yesterday . . . that was pretty impressive,’ Kerr praised. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you use magick before. I mean, I’ve knocked back plenty of your potions, but I bought them from your laundry hub. I never saw you create them.’
‘It’s a pretty boring process to witness, so you didn’t miss out.’
‘I hear Millicent left you to Ripper in her will.’
Emberlyn narrowed her eyes at the taunting note in Kerr’s tone. ‘She did it to needle me. I once told her that no man would ever own me.’
‘Ah,’ said Kerr. ‘So, you allied with our clan now?’
‘I am. And, yes, it means you can all come to me when you need magickal advice or intervention if you wish to.’ Feeling her magick tug at her, she looked over to see the glittering rope circling a spot on the ground. ‘Hmm, we have something.’
They flanked her as she stalked over to the spot. ‘You’re going to have to stand back,’ Emberlyn warned, reining in her magick to change its intention. The magick motes blended, twisted, spiraled and then poured into the ground. Soil parted until an object came into view.
Squatting, she felt her brow pinch. It was a glass jar filled with several things, including rusty nails, glass shards, red pepper and pieces of rotten meat.
She hovered her hand above it; felt the negative energy scrape at her palm as she read the spell’s intention. ‘Huh.’
Ripper moved closer – which was annoying, since his feral energy stirred up every drop of power she possessed. ‘What?’
Emberlyn sprinkled some magick down onto the jar, letting the glittering motes slip through the loose seams of the spell to dissolve the negative energy. ‘This is not Millicent’s work.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Positive. Can one of you grab me a leaf from the butterbur plant over there?’
‘Uh, yeah,’ replied Kerr, who then melted away.
Ripper shifted even closer to her. ‘How do you know it’s not your grandmother’s work?’