How different her life must have been than mine. “How do you spend your days?”
“Mostly working. Are you familiar with the Salem Supernatural Network?”
“Yes. They arranged for the sublet.”
She slanted her head. “That’s where I spend much of my time.”
“Doing what?”
She assessed me with her dark blue gaze before responding. “I lead a group that works in magic.”
It seemed bizarre to discuss things like magic and shifters and the supernatural to a woman I’d just met. This conversation would not happen on any of the dates I’d been on before now. Then again, this wasn’t technically a date. Was it okay to come straight out and ask her about being a witch?
I picked up the salt shaker and sputtered. “So, you work with supernaturals and went to an academy for them,” I began. “Does that mean you are one?” I put down the shaker and waited, my heartbeat growing louder in my ears.
“Yes. I’m a witch.”
I raised my gaze to meet hers. “Wow.”
“Wow what?”
“I’m not used to living in a place like this. Where it’s okay to reveal your supernatural side.”
“The days of the witch trials are over. We’ve embraced who we are and refuse to be ashamed of it—especially by closed-minded individuals who twist religion as a sword to justify their hate.” Her voice rose, and she grew animated.
“Have I touched on a sensitive spot?”
Pandora pushed her hair back over her shoulders. “It sickens me to know what those poor people went through. Any time a group wields their power to oppress others really gets to me.”
I nodded. “I know what you mean.”
Our gazes met and held. Although my bear insisted that Pandora was our mate on some primal level, I also sensed something deeper in that gaze. Understanding. Maybe even admiration.
Pandora broke eye contact and smoothed her hand over the tablecloth. “Now that you’re settled in, how do you spend your days?”
I grunted. “At the moment, searching.”
She lifted one brow. “Searching for what?”
CHAPTER5
AUSTIN
Good question. The easy answer was a practical one. “Next up is to find a job.”
“Are you working with the Network?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“If there’s anything I can do to help…”
When she didn’t finish the sentence, I answered, “I’ll be sure to reach out.”
Our server arrived with our meals, a creamy portobello mushroom and pasta dish for her and chicken marsala for me. We talked about various topics from small talk to New England as we ate dinner, and then we ordered tiramisu for dessert. Pandora asked more about me moving here.
“I liked Colorado,” I explained. “The problem wasn’t the mountains, it was me.”
“What do you mean?”
