She peers upand meets my gaze with watery lashes. “It really does feel like I’ve been given a second chance.”
I wish I felt the same.
Something urges me to lean closer, but not too much. Just enough that I can smell a hint of her perfume. Jasmine andverbena. She must have been wearing it when she died.
In any other reality, this would be the moment I kiss her. The tension has been built, andshe’sjust been vulnerablewithme.It’sthe perfect moment, butI’mnowhere near prepared for something so terrifying.
So, I pull back.
“Did you have any other questions for me?” I ask bluntly.
I see the sudden change in mood physicallyshakeher, but she recovers quickly.
“I’m not sure.” She glances around the room,eyes landing onthe fireplace in front of us. The blue in hereyesflickers with reflected light as something comes to mind. “What do you do all day?”sheasks.
It’s not the question I expected, and I don’t think she wants to hear my answer.
Lately? Wait for you.
I can be vulnerable, but that’s too much for me to divulge at this moment. Especially since I still don’t quite understand it. So I choose something else.
“I used to read a lot. I liked learning about the world, and sometimes I would paint the things I saw in books.”
Her eyes widen eagerly. “So thatwasyour painting I found!”
I purse my lips. “So that wasyousnooping through my magazines.”
She feigns embarrassment. “Guilty.”
The single flame I summoned has now engulfed all the wood that was left in the grate. I shift back slightly away from the intenseness of the heat. Kennedy shifts as well, butshe movesto face me.
“It was really good,” she says. “Do you not paint anymore?”
I shake my head. “Not since I stopped receiving the magazines.” Iscratchmy temple. “I guess the subscriptionran out. Or someone finally wised up and cancelled it.”
“I could find current issues for you. There’s a lot that’s happened in the world since JFK was in office.”
I force air through my nose. “I’m aware that time has not stopped with the mail.”
She giggles, and I’ve decided that it’s my new favorite sound.
“Have you ever been to any of the placesyou’veread about? Imean, whenyou were alive.”
I hate to admit it, but my world was pretty small.It always has been.
“No,” Ianswerhonestly. “I grew up here, and I died here.Back then, it was a lot harder to travel, and you only did it if absolutely necessary.This house and this landareallI’veever known.”
“So,you were here way before they started building paranormal towns,” shestates, moreas a thought than a question. But Ianswerher anyway.
“Yes.”
She pauses then crosses her arms. “What was it like before?”
Maybe Icanbe more honest with her. Would it be so terrible to tell someone about my past? Aidan knows some of my history, because he was there, butit’snot somethingthat’sbeen widely taught to others.
“This forest used to be home to a local coven,” I tell her, head held high. “My father was a warlock.”
Kennedy straightens. “Really?”
