Salems Song (The Curse of the Blood Moon #3) Read Online Kristen Proby

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: The Curse of the Blood Moon Series by Kristen Proby
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
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I glance down at Xander. Although the wolf is big, I don’t have to bend over to pet him.

“Ugh, I wonder if I ate something bad last night.” I start to walk along the shore, headed toward home. “I had some leftover chicken that I heated up, and it seemed fine, but I’m a little queasy this morning. I’d better throw out the rest.”

The wolf doesn’t reply in any way as he walks beside me. Xander’s been close by since we returned from Lucy’s house yesterday. He was the cat for a while. Once, I saw the raven flying overhead through my office window.

And now, this morning, he’s the wolf.

“You know, I’ve often wondered why I’ve never had a familiar.” I pat his back companionably as we walk closer to the cottage. “And then it occurred to me, I don’t need one. I have you.”

That has him stopping and staring up at me as he tilts his head to the side as if asking, “What the fuck?”

I laugh and shake my head. “It’s true. You’re all the animals I can stand. What about you? Have you ever had a familiar? You’ve never mentioned one.”

I’m walking away as I ask, so when Xander replies, it startles me.

“No, I’ve never had a familiar.”

I look back in surprise and see him standing behind me, so tall, broad, and imposing.

And so fucking gorgeous.

Why does he have to look like that?

“Did you go home to sleep at all?”

“No.”

“Xander. This is just silly. You need to sleep and eat and keep yourself strong.”

“I caught a couple of hours on the roof of your cottage, and I’ve had plenty to eat.”

“Don’t make me feel guilty.”

I stop and turn to him once more, planting my hand on his chest. I feel something surge, moving through my palm, up my arm, and to my heart.

The energy that sparks between us almost brings me to my knees.

“I’m not doing that.”

I lick my lips. “But you are.”

“I’m an adult, Lorelei. If you don’t want me to stay with you to protect you, I respect that. But that doesn’t mean I won’t stay close.”

“If you stayed in human form rather than becoming a bird, a wolf, or a cat, I could have you arrested for stalking.”

His lips tip up in an amused grin. “Good thing I can shift, then, isn’t it?”

“Stalker status doesn’t become you.”

“You know that’s not what I’m doing.” He removes my hand from his chest and holds on to it. “If we didn’t have some psychopath supernatural asshole trying to kill us, I’d leave you be—the way I’ve done for years, Lora. I’m not stalking, I’m fucking protecting you.”

“I know.” My response surprises us both, as evidenced by how he steps back from me. “I know you are, and I’m actually grateful. And annoyed. I’m both.”

“I guess I can live with that.”

I pull my hand from his and feel the absence instantly.

“I have a meeting with the ladies in an hour, and I haven’t had coffee or breakfast.” I step up onto the porch and then sigh gustily. I also immediately feel better. The nausea is gone. “Come on in. I’ll share with you.”

“I won’t turn down some coffee.”

I walk back to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee to brew, then scramble up some eggs and toss in some vegetables and bacon.

Xander pours himself a mug of coffee, then does the same for me. He knows the way I like it.

I thank him when he hands me the mug with the spoon still stirring on its own.

“How was Salem last night?”

“Calm.” He sips and leans his hip on my countertop, watching me cook. “Everything was chill, which was a relief.”

“I placed all new wards, cleansed my crystals before putting them back in the four corners of the cottage, and set some pretty serious mirror spells. Oh, and I cast a cord-cutting spell.”

“I know.”

My eyes fly to his. “You watched?”

“I never could resist watching you work your Craft, Lorelei. It’s…sexy as fuck.”

I bark out a laugh at his honesty and plate his eggs, passing them to him.

“At least, you’re honest.”

“Pretty much always.” He takes a bite. “Mm, these are good. You always hated to cook.”

“I learned in California. Took some classes.” I frown at my plate as I remember the two years I spent on the West Coast, teaching folklore at a university there. I ran as far from Salem as I could to lick my wounds and heal.

I didn’t think I’d ever come back.

“I also learned how to knit, work with watercolors, and do general auto mechanics.”

That has his eyebrows climbing into his hairline. “Which are you best at?”

“Auto mechanics, for sure.”

He grins at me in that way he always did that tells me he thinks I’m adorable, and I decide I’d better get ready for my meeting.



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