“Makes sense,” I tell her with a shrug. Reaching my hand out, I add, “I’m Archer Vexley—I work at the library.”
She assesses me before returning the gesture. “Rowyn Connor.”
“You’re Gale’s granddaughter?”
“I am,” she confirms. “I’d have your job if my magic didn’t draw me back to the kitchen every day.”
“Lucky me,” I joke.
She tilts her head and asks with a curious smile, “Are you lucky?”
My mouth opens and closes a couple of times, unsure how to answer that.
In a lot of ways, I’d say no. Most days I feel like a dead man walking, waiting for the ghosts of my family’s past to catch up with me.
However, that job at the library is part of what keeps Sybil and me in Briarhollow, and how I’ve ended up here. Waiting for the woman from my dreams to make an appearance.
As if I summoned her myself, I hear the voice I’ll never be able to forget.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Chapter 25
Renata
The question flies out as soon as I see him.
The entire way downstairs, I told myself to stay calm. Though I have felt anything but in the couple of minutes since Clementine barged into my room to tell me who was downstairs with Rowyn. She ran off to grab her sister and Esme, probably still sleeping.
Something dark and inky slithered through my veins when I saw him talking to Rowyn, even smiling at her.
That makes me feel crazier than any hallucinations or nightmares ever have.
I trust Rowyn, and I don’t know this man. No matter how much it feels like I do, for my sake, I have to constantly remind myself that Idon’t.
When he turns toward me, his small, friendly smile grows into a wider, happier grin. He slowly takes me in, and suddenly I’m self-conscious in the short satin nightgown I haven’t changed out of.
To be fair, everyone knows it’s rude to disturb someone before nine in the morning, and it’s only an hour after sunrise. I’d just gotten out of bed to open the window for Hexate, and was on my way to shower when Clementine came to tell me about Archer.
Without thinking about it, I didn’t bother grabbing a robe or anything else. Now my nightgown and socks are far too exposing, and my skin heats under his appreciative gaze.
I told myself I was in a rush to get him far away from the property, and Nestor.
Now that I’m looking at him in his fitted white t-shirt and jeans, I can’t keep lying to myself. I’m also not ready to be honest with myself about why I felt so desperate to get to him, either.
“Good morning,” he says easily, ignoring my question.
My eyes quickly glance to Rowyn, and she must understand the silent question.
Have you seen Nestor?
She shakes her head, and we both look back at Archer.
When I don’t say anything, his smile doesn’t falter—if anything, it looks more mischievous than seconds ago.
“I’m meeting my boss’s favorite granddaughter,” he finally answers in a light tone and gestures toward Rowyn.
“Oh no, Lover Boy, you can’t blame this on me,” Rowyn chimes in.
