Urgh. Noooo, Kelly, it is not 9PM.I dropped my phone back on the nightstand, exhaustion creeping along my veins. She said it wasn’t urgent. I could talk to her tomorrow.
I’ll see you in my dreams, Dean…
CHAPTER NINE
MAEVE
Iwoke up to sunlight streaming across my face. I’d been so tired last night I hadn’t bothered to shut the curtains and now light flooded my room, sending stabs of light right into my head, ensuring I was fully awake even as my mind screamed for more rest.
At least Dean had shown up.The benefits of being a spirit witch who can manipulate dreams.I beamed as I remembered how we were running through the castle, trying to escape some angry ghosts, and we decided to hide in the secret staircase leading down to the kitchen, and things got quite R-rated after that. I giggled to myself as I wondered if the actor had got pulled into my dream as well. I hoped not, that would be rude.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes.What time is it?
A delicious smell wafted under my nose, and a creeping sense that I wasn’t alone snaked across my shoulders. I turned toward the door.
Rowan leaned against the doorframe, a tray in his hands and a smile darting across his lips. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, blinking. His long lashes curled together, dusting againsthis flour-smeared cheeks. “I was just going to put this down and leave.”
“Then why are you loitering in the doorway?” I asked, patting the bed beside me, inviting him in.
“I…um…was watching you sleep.” He took a tentative step toward me, then stopped, his body stiffening. “I’m sorry. That’s creepy.”
“A little bit, but I trust you. I don’t think you’re creepy.” I patted the bed again. “Please, sit with me.”
“I didn’t come up here to watch you. I didn’t know if putting the tray down would wake you, and so I was just standing here and?—”
I laughed. “Get over here, you.”
Rowan perched on the edge of the bed, as far from me as it was possible to be while still sharing the same mattress. After a couple of moments, he rethought his position and shuffled across so his leg pressed against mine. He slid the tray over our legs so it balanced between us. A plate of scones – two savory pinwheels stuffed with pesto, and two tall, fluffy sweet scones paired with bowls of jam and cream – sat on one side with a silver teapot and two cups on the other.
“I’m still not sure about this tea business.” I frowned as Rowan picked up the pot and poured out two steaming cups.
“I think you’ll like this one,” he said just as a sweet smell wafted under my nose. Raspberry and vanilla.How heavenly.“I have a collection of loose leaf herbal teas as well as the classic English brews. This is one of my favorites.”
“Consider me converted.” I raised the cup to my lips and took a long sip. “What’s the time? How early did you have to get up to do all this?”
“It’s nearly lunchtime. I got up about an hour ago, but everyone else is still in bed. Except for Corbin. He’s sleeping in a chair outside Blake’s bedroom.”
“Huh?”
“He’ll be fine,” Rowan buttered a scone. “He doesn’t trust Blake yet. I can’t say I blame him.”
“I don’t get him sometimes. He wants what’s best for the coven, but he doesn’t want to accept any help…omigod, these areamazing.” The fluffy, buttery scone melted in my mouth and basil and tomato flavors exploded on my tastebuds.
“Corbin is always thinking about us, about the coven. It’s his whole life. We’re his whole life.” There was an edge to Rowan’s voice. “He’s never gone to university or nothing.”
That surprised me. I’d seen Corbin translate at least three arcane languages with minimum effort. “But how does he know all that stuff? Half the time he sounds like a professor.”
“Honestly, I don’t think the idea of going to university has ever occurred to him. Or maybe it has, but he’d just never consider it a possibility. He taught himself all those languages. He doesn’t really have other hobbies or interests. He rarely leaves Briarwood, and the only time I’ve known him to leave Crookshollow was when he spent some time in Arizona at community college, and even then he called the castle every day. Corbin’s family looked after the castle – and watched over you – his whole life. He sees this as his purpose.” Rowan snapped his mouth shut, as if suddenly realizing that he’d said four sentences in a row and had used up all his allotted talking time for the day. He cast his eyes toward Flynn’s iron sculpture on the wall opposite my bed, his lips moving silently as he counted the leaves that formed the stylized star map.
“Did you want to say something else?” I asked.
Rowan nodded. I waited until he finished counting. When he had, he lifted his teacup to his lips and took a long sip. His hand shook. “When Corbin first brought me here, I wasn’t doing so well. He said I might…cope better if I had something to occupy myself. So I started baking.”
“Did you go to a class?” I imagined Rowan in a room with a bunch of little old ladies, learning how to ice pink cupcakes.
Rowan shook his head. “I don’t really do well with lots of people around. I watched cooking videos on Youtube, and Corbin brought me some cookbooks and I made a lot of bloody awful stews before I got the hang of it.”
“What do you mean, you weren’t doing so well? Didn’t you want to be here?”
