Page 16 of Twice Bitten

Edmund said nothing for a long moment. “The Archangel had difficulty?” Disapproval rang in his voice. He didn’t understand why a natural witch would use high magic. No matter that it was the only spell I practiced from that particular magic group.

I shook my head. “He said Beckett’s energy was strange and the ritual would take longer.”

Edmund made a thoughtful noise. “Interesting. Did he say anything else?”

I shrugged. “He started the ritual right after.” There was no need to tell him about the calling card or how my muscles were sore. Edmund and I weren’t close. Not exactly. How could we be? He was an invisible entity of unknown origin.

“I’d be interested to hear of any others you meet as well.”

I blinked. “Why?”

“For my mental repository. I store all the new info there.”

“Like a creepy card catalog?”

Edmund’s sigh made me laugh.

“After I get dressed, I’m going down to the basement for a little while. If you need anything, flicker the lights.”

“Very well.” His presence disappeared.

Once I’d taken a quick shower and looked halfway decent, I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and went downstairs. Witchcraft was hard on the body sometimes. All the squinting and hunching over bottles and bowls resulted in poor posture if you didn’t take steps to prevent it.

I munched on the apple, tossing the core into the smalltrashcan when I was finished. The room still held some angelic energy, so I opened the fireplace flue, sprinkled salt all over the floor, and swept the area out with my besom. When the atmosphere only held my energy, I pulled the pretty blue and gray rug over the etched circle and unrolled my yoga mat to stretch.

Half an hour later, I felt worlds better. After adding some notes into the notebook I kept in my locked spell table, I refreshed some of my herb supply and tended the others I had growing hydroponically in the back storage area.

Gardening this way wasn’t ideal, but I couldn’t grow certain things outside because of nosy neighbors. After getting a visit from the police questioning my use of salvia, I’d moved most of my more questionable herbs and plants inside.

If someone sicced the police on me over salvia—which I was only growing because it was pretty—I had no doubt they’d send the SWAT team over if they saw the nightshade.

My fingers brushed over hemlock and henbane, belladonna and mandrake. I tended the datura in the corner and harvested a few seed pods. The foxglove hated being grown inside the most, and if it didn’t start showing improvement soon, I might have to build a greenhouse outside. My neighbors wouldlovethat.

I added a little fertilizer to the pot and murmured some words of comfort. The flowers tilted toward me, brushing my fingers with their pretty bell-shaped blossoms. I collected some of the spent blooms and tossed them into my mortar and pestle.

By the time I finished puttering around, I blinked and glanced at my cell phone.

“Six o’clock!” My stomach growled in the affirmative.

I hadn’t eaten anything except the apple today and had nothing in the fridge to cook.

“Edmund!” I called after I’d locked up and come back upstairs. “I’m running out for a bite!”

“Are you sure that’s wise? Addy warned you to stay home.”

“I’m an adult and not without protection.”

“Yes, but a witch is no match for a vampire, Alex.”

I glared at the ceiling. Not quite true. Certain types of witches could kick a vampire’s ass from here to Colorado. But since I was technically a hedgewitch, I understood what he meant. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Physicality-wise, Beckett will best you every time. You have only slightly above average strength. Hyenas have one of the strongest bite forces in the entire animal kingdom at approximately 1000 PSI, but that power pales in comparison to a vampire bite.”

I frowned. “Was the hyena comparison really necessary?”

“Only to prove my point.”

“I can’t imagine I’ll ever get to experience a hyena’s bite force, but sure. I am not without tricks. More importantly, I won’t let him make me a prisoner in my own home.” I shrugged on an oversized cardigan, slid on some sneakers, and grabbed my purse. “Plus, I really want some potstickers.”