40 Jasper #3
Rolling my eyes, I go on. “As far as Ludmilla knows, you’re a human who has been thoroughly vetted by Howe, whom she begrudgingly trusts.
The island trusts you too. And Ludmilla knows well how the wards work.
She knows that if you were digging for personal gain, the island would stop you.
Even Howe, little shit that he is, really does believe he’s doing what’s best for the island.
Your motives are wholly selfless, Birdie.
Ludmilla doesn’t need to know whose side you’re on.
It will be enough for her ravens that you’re human and you work for Howe.
My hunch is that she’ll leave you alone. ”
Birdie is clearly thinking fast as she paces, considering every angle. “But—the ravens saw me at the apartment this morning. And again in the fields this afternoon. They must know I work for you too.”
“It’s a risk, I’ll not deny it. One you must decide if you’re willing to take.
But I believe they know only of your connection with Phoebe.
I’m already dead, remember? They’ll see you living at Phoebe’s apartment, working her job.
And you should know we’re working on a plan that will see Ludmilla incapacitated very soon. ”
She stops pacing at this. “What plan? What will you do?”
Stifling my smile, I dare to shrug. “Join my coven, and I’ll tell you.”
She rolls her eyes. I’d spank her for it if I wasn’t worried it would lead to us fucking.
This conversation is too serious to get distracted by how effortlessly she undermines my authority at every turn.
“If you agree to join us, I promise you’ll not have to fly under Ludmilla’s radar for long.
We could possibly even get you a pendant to match mine,” I add, brushing a finger over the little evil eye charm on my chest.
I can see she likes this idea. My clever Capricorn. It’s not reasonable to believe in magic, not until you’ve dismissed all other rational explanations. Birdie knows magic is real. Now that she knows more, she wants to know everything.
Smiling, I go on. “You’ll go about your duties during the day, ostensibly working for Howe, while also working in the shop. Then, each night when you close the shop with Hortie, you’ll put the pendant on, and she’ll secret you back here. Ludmilla’s ravens will never know you’re playing both sides.”
“And . . . how long would I have to do this for?”
“Two weeks at the most.”
Her brows arch. “Why? What happens in two weeks?”
“Join my coven and—”
“And you’ll tell me. Yeah, I got it.” She stops her pacing, closing her eyes tight. Taking a deep breath, she lets it out. Finally, she opens her eyes, glancing between us. “I need to think about this . . . somewhere else. Is that—can I do that? Is that allowed?”
The thought of her leaving feels like a physical cleaving of part of me. I’m not ready to examine it quite yet. Which is why I hear myself say, “Of course, you can go. Take the night to . . . process.”
She narrows her eyes at me but doesn’t retort. Look at us, learning to get along already.
Hortie immediately blusters. If she can’t play the hostess, she starts to wither and die. “Oh, but Birdie, dear, you’ve hardly even touched your pasta. You need to eat. Sit down and finish dinner, at least.”
I can tell from Birdie’s pained expression that she’s reached the limit of what she can handle for now. But she doesn’t want to be rude to Hortie. Reaching out, I place a hand on Hortie’s arm. “Birdie is leaving, Hort. But she’ll come back . . . won’t you, Birds?”
Birdie blinks twice, color blooming in her freckled cheeks. “I—no one calls me that but Phoebe.”
“What, Birds?”
She nods, tears rimming her eyes.
Fuck, did I just step in something? Is she mad or sad? She’s impossible to read. “Do you want me to stop?”
She shakes her head, sniffing back her tears. “No. I don’t—I just—I really need to go.” She looks around, ready to make the next door-shaped thing her emergency exit. “I’ll, uhh . . . I won’t leave the island.”
I rise slowly from my chair, stepping around the table. “Go back to the apartment. You’ll be safe there tonight. Goddess knows you have enough to eat there too.”
“She has enough to eat here,” Hortie calls, wholly indignant.
Ignoring the old bat, I show Birdie through the laundry room and to the back door.
The cat follows us, mewing softly.
“Will you take Pickles with you?”
She smiles down at him. “Well, duh. Saito’s cheese won’t eat itself, will it?”
Casting me a gleeful look, the cat jumps into his wicker basket. I breathe a little easier knowing he’ll be with her. He’ll keep her out of danger.
Slipping on her shoes, she pauses at the door, one hand on the knob. “I’m not running. And I’m not scared. I’m just—”
“Processing,” I finish for her. “I know. It’s been a crazy day.”
She drops her hand to her side, not looking up at me. “Fine, I’m a little scared.”
I take her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Because you’re smart. Only a very foolish person would charge into this unafraid.”
She nods.
Leaning down, I brush my lips to her temple. “You’re resourceful too, you know. Clever and resilient. Not to mention beautiful inside and out. Any coven would be lucky to have you, Birdie Rhodes.”
Blinking back her tears, she nods again. I didn’t even need to offer her a strengthening spell. My words were enough to see her bloom. Snatching up Pickles in his basket, she leaves the house with her shoulders set, walking tall.
She’ll come back. I have to trust in the will of the goddess. Hold too tight to a free spirit like Birdie, and she’ll fly away. An open hand is the only way to see her stay.
She has to come back.
I don’t know what I’ll do if she doesn’t.