Page 46 of Kat Bethel

The same Rinah energy that created the very first monster.

“Can they sense mine?” she asked with a frown on her cute little face.

I smiled at her, but it felt sad, even to me. She might not be a Rinah, but one day she’d mess up, probably without realizing it, and they’d come running.

Don’t end up like me.

I pulled a black obsidian stone from my bag and knotted it into a quick witch’s ladder necklace.Protect her. Please.“Not if you wear this.”

“You don’t wear one,” she pointed out as I tied it around her neck.

“I’ve chased after them too much. They already see me.” I stared at her, hoping she would understand what I meant. That my warning would stay in her mind for when she needed it.

“The monster is smiling.” Her voice shook. “His teeth are bigger than you are and blood drips from them.”

My heart pounded in my chest.

“Don’t look at it.” I gently guided her eyes shut. “And it won’t look at you.”

She pulled the blankets back over herself, but this time it wasn’t a child’s panic. It was a witch who knew the answer.

I walked over to the clerk and found her staring at the child with glassy eyes. “She’s been terrified ever since our parents died last year.”

A single-event imprint that changed the way her brain worked on a fundamental level. So she wasn’t born a witch, she became one. Poor thing.

“Thank you,” the woman said, holding out the card key. “For the peace you’ve given her.”

I accepted it, placing the still-smoking smudge stick in her hands. “The more she touches them, the more they’ll touch her. She’ll end up with monsters hovering over her, too.”

She nodded in understanding, accepting the rosemary without hesitation.

Something in the determination on her face reminded me of Esme’s protective nature. How when she was young, she was convinced she could protect everyone from the pain she’d experienced.

Was that why my mother left me behind to never be heard from again? Did she have something on her ass too? Perhaps she’d been trying to protect me.

Enough of that for the day.

It’s been a clusterfuck already, no need to dump leftovers onto my plate.

I stepped out of the office and made my way two doors down to my room. The street lights flickered up and down the street.

Fuck me.

Chapter 17:

Iwokeupandmade myself coffee, sitting down at the table.

Why did I miss his non-existent hands on me?

I saw those lights flicker. Where was he? My mind might have tricked me to remind me how much I liked his presence.

Fucked up, didn’t begin to describe me.

I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to get my shit together before popping my prescription drugs, hoping they made me semi-normal again. That I’d quit looking to a literal shadow for validation.

Therapy. Lots of therapy.

Maybe I needed to take a long sabbatical. I could go sunbathe on a beach without scanning the water for something that wanted to eat me. Witches and the ocean didn’t mix well. Everything in there was older than our magic.