Chapter 3
Zoe rubbed her palms over her arms and legs and briefly closed her eyes. What had just happened? Her body was still vibrating from the pleasure of the man’s touch. Never had she felt anything like the raging desire he stirred in her. It was just her luck that the man was stark, raving mad. She pulled the pillow over her face and groaned into it.
Olivia came back into the shop and raised a brow at her. “You’re awake.”
“Yeah.” Zoe tried to adjust her hair and clothes but it was obvious she was sex-mussed. Humiliation mixed with her confusion and she let out a rough sigh.
“I just saw Jack down on the beach with his family." Olivia deposited the empty mugs she carried into the sink, then turned and leaned against the counter, arms crossed over her chest. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen him angrier. What happened?”
“Oh, Liv. I don’t even know.” She threw her hands up. "I know I’m not privy to all your weird shit, but I’m really at a serious disadvantage here. What the hell’s going on?”
Olivia nodded at the new hole in the wall. “You didn’t by any chance throw some kind of energy into him?”
“I guess.” She looked down at her hands and cringed, remembering. Her voice was weak when she spoke again, “I blasted him, but that was before he punched the wall.”
Olivia frowned, pursed her lips, and narrowed her gaze. “Exactly what was his reaction when you…blasted him?”
“He laughed." Zoe put her legs to her chest and thumped her forehead against her knees. If she hadn’t needed a therapist before, she definitely needed one now. The thought of driving the short distance from the Jersey Shore to New York to visit Dr. Larry seemed like a reasonable option.
“And… did he do the same thing to you?” Olivia sat down next to her and put out her hand to stop the head-banging. “Blast you with energy?”
“No. I mean...he just touched my hand and I went all ga-ga. His touch went straight between my thighs. I’ve never been that into a guy before, let alone ready to tear his clothes off." She covered her face with her hands and moaned. "He said I was his freaking mate."
“Oh shit," Olivia muttered, standing abruptly. "We’ve got to talk. But first, I need to cleanse the shop. Give me a few minutes. The aura in here is all fucked up.”
It was more than the aura in the room that was fucked up. Zoe clamped her lips and kept that thought to herself.
Olivia pulled out a huge crock-pot shaped like a big black cauldron and started throwing herbs and spices into in it. It dwarfed the small stove. Occasionally she glanced up at Zoe and frowned.
Could the day get any weirder?
“While I’m cleaning, read this.” Olivia placed a book the size of a medieval bible on the tiny tea table. Dust flew up from it and clogged the air.
“Seriously?” Zoe stood and eyed the huge book.
“Seriously,” Olivia said with a stern nod. "You're in deep shit and you better know what you're in for. How the hell did I miss you having a strong warring talent? I don’t even want to speculate on what that means.”
Zoe sat down and opened the musty smelling book, titled ‘Witches of the Warring Clan.’
“Liv, I’ve told you. I’m not into this witchcraft stuff. It freaks me out.”
Olivia shook her head and went back to her pot. “Just read.”
Zoe flipped the pages and started reading. The book was filled with outlandish tales of ancient lore. It hadThe Hobbitbeat by a long shot.
Hours passed before Zoe finally pushed her chair back, stood, and stretched her sleeping muscles.
Olivia chanted while adding peppermint and anise to a blackened iron pot.
Brownies baked in one oven and chocolate chip cookies in another. The whole house smelled of yumminess.
“There’s no dark aura in the world that can compete with this.” Olivia grabbed a hot mitt, and removed the steaming confection from the oven rack.
Olivia sliced two hot gooey squares, gingerly put them in bowls, and scooped vanilla ice cream over the top. Two perfect volcanoes. Sweet creamy lava spread over the chocolate landscape.
After a couple bites, Zoe almost felt normal.
If nothing else, tonight she’d learned her libido wasn’t broken after all. The man she’d healed gave her panty-twisting, breast-aching, gotta-have-him lust. But that didn’t mean he was her mate, or that she was somehow from some warring clan.
