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Plus, Wilder was my bodyguard. This seemed like a good occasion for him to do both jobs at the same time.

“Let’s just get this over with,” I grumbled.

If I had any other options aside from being here, I would have taken them, but Cain had basically aimed me right for the house. Which could have been his way of stirring up shit—a beloved Beau Cain pastime—but I didn’t think so. Not right now.

Of course, I’d been wrong about Cain’s motivations in the past.

I slipped my sunglasses up into my hair and pushed open Santiago’s wrought iron front gate. Even though it was late in the season, it didn’t seem to matter to his garden. There were still flowers and herbs in bloom everywhere, altogether oblivious to the season for growing being over.

It smelled incredible, heady.

I hated this place because of how much I loved it. It felt like coming home, but to a home that had never and would never be mine. I knew a part of me belonged here, but that part of me was not the one calling the shots.

Santiago answered the door after my second knock, so of course he’d been standing on the other side of it, watching as we came up the walk.

“Genie.” He smiled, a grin smooth and sweet as honey. My stomach clenched and every instinct in my body screamed run away.

Instead, like a stupid little fish, I swam right into the shark’s mouth.

“Hello Santiago.”

His gaze trailed over my shoulder like a physical touch and landed on Wilder. “Hello Wilder.” I was a little surprised he didn’t intentionally use the wrong name or do something equally immature just to set Wilder off. It seemed for the time being that at least one of them was going to play nice.

“Santiago,” Wilder replied, his voice so tight I knew he was clenching his jaw without looking at him.

I was just grateful Santiago was wearing a shirt today.

It was a threadbare Guns n’ Roses shirt, with holes along the neckline, and the black so faded it was now charcoal gray. He had paired the tee with some tattered blue jeans that looked as soft as velour. He was barefoot. His dark hair, shaved and the sides, was a jumble of loose curls hanging in his eyes. The tattoos that covered his arms and up his neck to his temples felt like more of a sneaky secret now that they were partially covered by a shirt.

I knew they were all a part of his spellcraft. Runes and enchantments he had carved into his body to make himself stronger.

There was a reason Santiago was one of the most powerful witches in New Orleans, and it was at least in part due to what he was willing to give of himself.

“Would you like to come in?” His chocolate brown eyes were only for me, even though the invitation was clearly meant for both of us.

“Please.”

He stepped out of the doorway, letting Wilder and I pass into his inner sanctum. The house smelled of incense and vanilla, and a stirring mix of darker things like wood smoke and blood.

This place was brimming to the rafters with magic and it made all the hair on my body stand on end. I wanted to rub against the walls and burrow my face in the curtains. Everything here teased and tantalized.

There was no music playing, only the muted jangle of wind chimes from outside and a faint breeze through a window rustling the curtains. Yet the whole house buzzed, like a struck chord that hummed through my body.

I wanted to reach for Wilder’s hand and seek out some kind of familiar comfort there, but I also knew I couldn’t show weakness, especially in front of someone who was just a man. A very, very powerful man, but a human man nonetheless.

I knew, from Santiago’s own admission, that he had needed to learn all the magic he knew. A learned witch wasn’t the same as a hereditary one. While he might have known the ins and outs of spellcraft better than I did, the magic was in my blood in a way it simply wasn’t for him.

And sometimes that manifested itself in genuinely terrifying ways.

Focus.

I had to get out of here quickly, but we needed answers first. The sooner I got them, the sooner we could leave, and I wouldn’t need to see Santiago again hopefully for a very long time.

He closed the door behind us and the stillness of the house was overwhelming.

“I was just making some tea, do you guys want anything?”

I shook my head firmly at Wilder. We would not eat or drink anything in this house. Usually that rule was only necessary around fairies, but I didn’t trust a damn thing Santiago offered me. It could all be enchanted.


Tags: Sierra Dean Genie McQueen Fantasy