Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Before I can bring my head down to kiss her, a black cat runs into the kitchen, meowing loudly. He jumps onto the counter next to Callie and she holds out her hand to pet him.
“He’s hungry,” she says and turns away to get a wine glass. “And I need a drink.” She fills her glass and takes a drink. “You must think I’m a basket case of a witch.”
My lips curve into a smile and I laugh. I think a lot of things about her, but that’s not one that crossed my mind Though now that she’s said it, I can see how she could have come across that way.
Drunk.
Mumbling to herself.
Cursing at whoever texted her earlier.
She has hot mess written all over her.
“No. That’s not how I see you.”
She takes another drink, needing the liquid sedative, and then sets the glass down. She holds out her hand and rubs her thumb over her fingers. Time can move differently for me, being as old as I am. Things play out in slow motion, which is how I’m able to react so quickly to any given situation…but only if I’m paying close attention.
The moment her thumb makes contact with her fingers, light blue sparks of magic flicker around Callie’s fingers. She’s pulling in energy from the air around us. The shift in the atmosphere is so slight, I wouldn’t have felt it if I wasn’t aware of what was going on in front of me.
The sparks come together, merging into one single thread of magic. It’s bright and brilliant and would hurt like hell if I touched it. It’s tragically beautiful, glowing in the dim light all the while threatening.
“How do you see me?” she asks in a small voice.
“I see the only human who’s power rivals mine.” The emptiness is opening up and a thousand dark hands reach out, trying to pull me in. I’ve let them bring me down to the bottom of the abyss before, but right as I’m about to sink below the surface, I’m back to where I started.
I draw my fangs and jerk away from Callie. “That, and lunch,” I quickly add.
“Isn’t it a little late for lunch?” She puts a hand on her hip and looks at the clock on the microwave behind me. I just told her I see her as my next meal and she’s standing there looking annoyed and not at all scared. Fuck, this is weird.
“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” I growl.
She looks at the string of magic she’s waving between her fingers and closes her first. The light goes out in her hand. “No.”
“You should be.”
“I could say the same for you.”
“I suppose. But I’m well over a thousand years older than you. And you’re drunk.”
“Not drunk enough.” The black cat meows at Callie again. “I know,” she sighs. “I’ll feed you. What do you want? Chicken or fish tonight?”
She cooks for her cat? “You really are a crazy cat lady, aren’t you?”
“There’s no point in denying it.” She grabs the cat off the counter and opens the fridge to get something to feed the cat. I watch her for a moment and then go back into the living room.
The house is clean, a little cluttered for my liking, but it seems to fit Callie. There are three large photos hanging on the wall above the couch in the living room. The first is of Callie and a blonde woman, and they’re standing in front of a store called Novel Grounds. There are balloons on either side of the door, and half a large GRAND OPENING sign is visible behind them.
The next photo is older, and Callie can’t be much older than sixteen in it. She’s standing next to a dark haired boy in front of Cinderella’s castle at Disney World. The last one is of Callie with the same blonde woman and two other women with red hair. They’re all wearing black dresses and matching dark blue robes and are in some sort of great hall.
I move out of the living room and take another look at Callie. She’s holding her hands over a plate and her cats twist around her ankles, meowing. My eyes go to the stairs. There are more photos along the wall leading up to the second floor.
They’re all of her cats, which I find more endearing than I expected. I’m at the landing, and my curiosity is getting the better of me. Some would consider it rude to look around her house like this, but I’ve always done what I wanted and never gave a shit what others thought.
There’s a bathroom at the top of the stairs, and two bedrooms. One is neat and tidy and perfectly staged. I can tell right away that’s not Callie’s room.
“Marco,” Callie’s voice comes from downstairs as I step into her room. A large wooden chest sits open by her closet, half buried with clothes needing to be folded and put away. “You’re supposed to say ‘polo’ and I know you can hear me,” she grumbles.