Chapter 6
OLIVIA FROST
another new burrow for gus.
it smells like lemons. yum!
— gus
“What’s up? You expected a raccoon disaster or something?” I ask while tossing my keys and Honey’s into the raccoon-shaped ceramic dish beside the door. No way in hell am I losing those again.
Ash blinks before looking back at me. “No.”
“You hesitated.”
“Not at all. I was just appreciating your organization.” A tiny, almost grin. “And thinking that you would’ve been very surprised at the state of my room back in Virginia. It looked much closer to your shop downstairs.”
I wouldn’t have guessed that. Unless… “Books?”
His lips quirk upward. “So many books.”
Figured. But, wait—
“Virginia? I didn’t know you were from Virginia.” I pause. “Are all Virginia opossums from Virginia?”
Ash chuckles, and the sound does something to my chest. I rub the spot between my tits, biting the inside of my lip when his gaze locks on the way my fingers move between my cleavage.
He realizes he’s staring a second later and clears his throat.
“Oh. Um. No. I’m not from Virginia. My clan was based in Ohio.
That’s where my dad met my mom. But I would go visit family in Virginia all the time.
Then, after I finished high school, I… let’s just say, something was calling me to Virginia so I lived there for the last decade or so.
It worked out for me. I went to Old Dominion in Norfolk for my Bachelor’s and my Master’s. Now I’m here.”
Now he’s here.
I’m kind of stuck on what he said about Virginia. “Something was calling you to Honey’s neck of the woods?”
He shrugs. “She was already gone by the time I relocated from Ohio. Not that it matters. I could never figure out what it was. Instinct maybe or because I was just looking for an excuse to escape my overprotective mother.” He lets out a soft huff.
“Never did manage that, either. She talked my dad into joining his brother’s clan so that she could be close to me.
Now she’s in Onancock with the rest of my family, and I jumped at the chance to come stay with Honey while I find some way to put my degrees to use. ”
I think of the slumbering body in my spare room. “Probably regretting that, huh? Considering someone tried to kill you your first day in Moonburrow.”
Ash shakes his head, his eyes locked on my face. “Not as much as you’d think. If I hadn't come to Maryland, I never would’ve ran into you again.”
Oh.
Uh.
“Lucky you,” I say.
He grins. “Yeah.”
I never thought I was a coward. For my entire life, I’ve stood up for myself and for those I consider mine.
But the way that Ash was looking at me so earnestly like that…
I quickly come up with an excuse to leave him in the TV room while I dip into my room to change.
It’s been hours since I was digging around in the dumpster with Ash’s body in it and I’m itching with how much dirt is on my skin.
I scrubbed up before I left the bakery, but that’s not enough. I need fresh clothes.
And, no, I’m not trying to doll up for Ash.
Not even when I finally take my hair out of my bun, running a brush through the length, leaving it to fall carelessly down my back, or when I grab one of my tighter-fitting tees—one that says “STAY TRASHY” on it—and a pair of black jeans that show off my ass. Why do you ask?
I even tuck my sunglasses behind my ears, shoving the shades to rest on the top of my head. I grab my leather jacket because, if Ash wants to play with fire, I might just grab the match myself. What you see is what you get with Roxy Kane, and this is pure ‘Roxy’.
Gus seems to nod in approval as I join the two of them in the TV room. Ash… his lips part and his pale, fading cheeks pinken as he mumbles something about wishing he could change out of the same sweater, shirt, and slacks he’s been stuck in since he ‘died’.
Ash is hovering near the couch, watching some nature doc that Gus—who is clearly controlling the remote tucked neatly under his paws—put on for them. As I enter, he drifts closer to me.
I close the gap between us before placing the tip of my finger against his chest. If he was alive, I’d be able to feel the vibrations of his heartbeat through his sweater. Only he’s a ghost, but it’s enough that a jolt flashes through me as he turns solid under my touch.
“Nah,” I tell him, giving him my trademark crooked grin—and purposely flashing a little fang when I do. “I think you look good just like this.”
Ash swallows, an undeniable reflex from when he was still breathing. “Really? I would’ve thought someone like me wouldn’t be your type.”
“I have lots of types, Ash. What about you? What kind of female has your heart?”
He stumbles over the words as he says: “N-none. Not yet. But I think you look great.”
I lift my hand, trailing it along the edge of his jaw. He’s solid, but not warm, though tell that to the way my skin seems to burn as I caress him. “Good answer. Now, let’s go. Riordan just texted that the coven witch should be here any minute.”
It’s true. I got the message when I was looking for my shades, and while I planned on grabbing Ash and bringing the ghost downstairs to meet the witch at the door, the way he looked at me…
I couldn’t help myself. My raccoon’s been behaving so far, letting me take the lead when it comes to our mate, that I figured it was okay to throw her a bone and let her get close to him.
Was that a mistake? It might’ve been. Ash has been sweet to me since we first met earlier today, but the moment I began flirting back, he reminded me of an opossum about to drop; if he was in his body, he might’ve.
I don’t want to frighten my mate. I want to have him on his knees begging for a taste… and that is going to have to wait.
I purposely look away from Ash, giving him a chance to recover. “Gus. You coming or what?”
In answer, Gus uses his front paw to step on the remote. The TV blinks off.
Okay, then.
By the time we’re downstairs, I see a silhouette against the front door. Their nose is pressed up against the glass, hands shielding their eyes as they peer into the darkened shop.
It’s gotta be Riordan’s witch.
He had to play the ‘sheriff’ card to get her here this quickly.
Usually, the witches in Moonburrow like to keep their distance from the pack.
The wolves are happy to let them. Turns out, witches and wolves have complicated feelings about one another after some coven cursed an entire wolf pack and sanctuary town into seventy years of frozen time.
The only way to break the curse was to wait until a sacrificed soul was reborn and returned to the town, but while that coven’s been recently defeated, wolves sure know how to hold a grudge.
They also know how to wield their dominance, but when you take Riordan’s secret into account, it would’ve been harder for him to throw his weight around with the Moonburrow coven. He obviously managed it, though, because here she is.
Ash lingers by the bottommost stair. “Do you think she’ll be able to help?”
I glance at him. His loafers, ankles, and part of his calves are hidden by the step he’s sunk through. My jaw goes tight when it hits me that he has no idea that he’s slipping inside of a solid object instead of hovering over it.
“She better,” I tell him, “because me and Riordan are running out of ideas, and you… you’re running out of whatever you are.”
Ash’s head drops, grimacing a moment before he adjusts his position. It doesn’t matter. He’s fading, and I’m terrified that it won’t stop.
“She’s a magic pro,” I add, hoping that I’m not full of it. “I’ll let her in and she can figure out what kind of supernatural mojo is going on here.”
The bell above the front door jingles softly when I unlock it and throw it open just as the female takes a few steps back.
I step aside, wordlessly inviting her in.
Apart from the slight tingle against my skin that tells me she’s a magic-user, one look at her and I’d know.
Like me, she leans into all the stereotypes.
She has pale skin and chocolate-colored eyes.
Perfect skin, though my raccoon can see through the charm and pick up the wrinkles around her eyes and her mouth she’s trying to hide.
Her long, dark brown hair is twisted in a thick braid that’s resting on one shoulder.
A light beige cardigan is draped over her shoulders, and as she extends her hand to me, I notice that she has silver rings on most of her fingers.
“Roxy?” she asks.
I don’t want to shake her hand, but she came all this way to help Ash so I stomach it. One quick pump and I release her chilly fingers. “You got her.”
“Wonderful. My name is Olivia. Olivia Frost. I’m the senior healer for the Moonburrow coven of witches.”
She sweeps into the store without waiting for further invitation, her eyes jumping from display to display as she takes in the entire front room. I start to speak, to introduce Ash, to explain the situation, but she holds up her hand, an obvious ‘shut it’ gesture if I’ve ever seen one.
Olivia moves easily through the aisles, fingers brushing lightly against shelves and display cases as she prowls deeper into the store.
She lingers near trays of jewelry and a bonafide antique tea set before moving on.
She hefts up a gold statue, then lowers it.
She runs a piece of linen through her hands.
A mirror catches her attention before she spies the dinged-up silver compact I pulled from the dumpster.
A frown tugs on her lip when she sees the scratches. I want to point out that it’s new merch, that I haven’t had the chance to buff it out yet, but before I do, she sets it down and continues to head toward the staircase near the back where Ash lingered.
He’s watching her just as closely as I am.
“Do you think she can see me?” he asks.
I wait to see if Olivia will answer him. Since she doesn’t react to his voice at all, I’m gonna assume no. I shake my head, and Ash frowns.