How much was it my fault and how much Damon just being impossibly stubborn, anyway?
The problem was, that didn’t matter. He was still a problem. I’d wanted to dosomethingto make Rose’s life a little easier, a little safer… Otherwise there was nothing to do but wait.
And now that was still all I had to do. Also, I might just have made her life a little worse, if Damon went and did something even more stupid because he was pissed off at me.
I headed back through town, but the restless urge wouldn’t leave me.Mywork for the day was already finished, pointless as installing a new sink to replace Ms. Lindel’s perfectly good old one had seemed anyway. I wanted to see Rose, but I couldn’t just stroll over there whenever I liked until it was safe for her to reveal that she’d taken us as her consorts. Damn it.
I ended up rambling down one of the back roads that circumvented the Hallowell property. I could see the stone wall, the trees of the wood shading it, the distant peaks of the manor beyond. It was a warm day, but the breeze ruffled my clothes briskly enough that I started to wish I’d brought a jacket. Not enough to turn back, though. Maybe I’d spot something out here that she could use. It might be a long-shot, but I wouldn’t be doing her any good sitting around at home.
The land around the road here was mostly vacant fields, but up ahead an old farmhouse loomed. My gaze returned to it between glances at the Hallowell estate. The bones of it looked solid enough, the frame straight and the roof stable. Part of the porch had collapsed, though, and the eaves trough was sagging. A few of the windows were broken, splinters of glass glinting against the plywood behind them in the light from the sinking sun.
A forlorn-looking For Sale sign swung on its post out front. I could see why no one had snatched this place up yet. It didn’t just need a hell of a lot of repairs—it was out in the middle of nowhere, almost an hour’s walk outside of town, with the closest neighbors being the Hallowells. They weren’t the kind of neighbors most people around here could imagine popping by for a quick hello or to ask to borrow a cup of sugar.
It’d be just a five-minute walk from the farmhouse’s dilapidated porch to the Hallowell estate’s stone wall. Maybe fifteen minutes from there to the manor, if I was judging the distances right.
A gleam of an idea started to jitter in my head. I turned away from the estate as I came up on the farmhouse and ambled over for a closer look.
Some teens from town or somewhere else nearby must have gotten into it. Amateurish spray paint tags colored the worn clapboard slats. I couldn’t tell what color the slats were meant to be under the layer of gray grime coating them.
The awning was standing straight enough. Based on the size of the place, I’d guess it had at least four bedrooms. It didn’t look pretty, but looks could be fixed.
I folded my arms over my chest, considering the building. My heartbeat kicked up a notch. Was I crazy to even think about this?
Even if I was, at least I’d be keeping busy.
It wasn’t as if I could make any decisions yet. I walked back to the For Sale sign, pulling out my phone, and dialed the number listed there.
“Silverton Realty,” a bright voice answered. “How can I help you?”
“Hi,” I said. “What’s the current list price on the farmhouse out on Hallowell Lane?”
Chapter Ten
Rose
Ibreathed into my spark and exhaled slowly, sweeping my right foot out and behind me. My back arched as I reached my arms toward the bedroom wall. In the yellow glow of the lamp, my limbs cast long shadows on the floor. The wind warbled, rustling the heavy curtains covering my window. Magic radiated through all of my movements, even though I was keeping it contained inside my body for now.
I dipped my hands low and straightened up again. With a quick swivel, I was facing my bed again. The bed where I’d supposedly come up here to sleep in. But I’d already felt as if Mrs. Gainsley had been watching me curiously a few times today. Maybe I was giving off some sort of lit-spark vibe without even trying.
My audience, Philomena, sat on the edge of the bed at rapt attention. “It really is quite magical to watch,” she said, and gave me a little clap as well.
I laughed. “That’s a fairly basic form. If I’d released the magic, I’d just have cooled off the room a little.”
“Well, why don’t you release it, then? If there’s a better show to be had, I’m all for seeing it.”
I gave her an amused look. “I’m trying to work on my control. To make sure when Idoneed to use my magic, I won’t expend much extra that another witch could notice.”
“A witch like that new estate manager of yours?” Phil said. “Hmm. Yes, I’m not sure I quite like the look of her.”
“It’s not about how she looks. She could be a completely lovely person, and I still wouldn’t want her to know I’ve kindled my spark already.”
“I take your point.” Phil bounced on the mattress. “Perhaps I could give you some tips. I happen to haveexcellentself-control. Why, there was that time I was justdyingto tear off Lord Haverton’s cravat, but I managed to keep my hands to myself. For the five minutes until the maid left the room. Not to mention the Duchess of Canterbury’s luncheon, when—”
The window rattled with a knock. I jumped and turned. Had that just been a branch in the wind?
The knock came again, soft and steady, almost playful. My pulse settled, and a smile crossed my lips. I didn’t throw caution to the wind, but as I walked over to tug back the curtain, I was pretty sure of what I’d see outside.
I was right. Kyler grinned back at me from the other side of the glass. He was perched in the oak tree outside like he’d done the first night I’d been back, when he’d come to confirm I’d returned home.