Page 17 of Rituals & Rivalry

“There was an accident here,” I say shortly, forcing my gaze away. “Years ago. The house grew a mind of its own and doesn’t like most people. It’s a good house. Just a bit reluctant.”

She scoffs. “Houses can’t have personalities.”

I smile despite myself. “This one does. A big personality, actually. What’s she been doing so far?”

“She?”

I nod and gesture for Aurora to follow as I walk through the house. “Giving her some proper respect is a good first place to start. That’s what she likes to be called.”

There are still boxes out, but I can see the vision coming together: a cozy burnt-orange couch, gorgeous light linen curtains at the windows, and paintings hung on the walls. They’ll take good care of her.

It sets me at ease, but I know convincing the spirit that resides in the halls will be harder.

“Well, she wouldn’t let me sleep,” Aurora mutters. “The dreams were fucking crazy.”

I know a thing or two about those. Even when I’m not here, the spirit trapped in this house haunts me in my dreams. I haven’t heard of her doing the same to anyone else, not even her family. How odd.

I wince. “Yeah. She’ll do that. She’s kind of high maintenance. That’s why her original owners sold the place. It was a hard sell, too. They took a loss on it, but they couldn’t stick around.”

“Let me guess.” She perches her hands on her hips. Those wide, soft hips. If she weren’t so annoying, I’d like to dig my fingers into them again. They look even more plush than the last time I saw her. “Is this your way of running me out of town? A trick of your magic? What kind of witch are you?”

This isn’t the first time I answered her question, and I’m not sure how long I can keep evading it.

I grin, attempting a bit of what can only be described as Val-esque charisma. We share DNA; I should be able to turn the charm on as he does, but it never quite works. “Not the kind that curses houses, if that’s what you’re asking.”

As expected, she’s not moved in the least. “Great. That’s just great.”

“Lavender.”

“I beg your pardon?” She takes a step back as if something hit her in the face. “Did you forget my name again?”

So much for charm. She must really think I’m an ass. As if I could forget her name.

“No. Sorry.” I shake my head, rolling my eyes at myself. “Burn lavender before you sleep. Helps her relax.”

“Oh. I get it now. You fucked this house, didn’t you?”

This time, my laugh is louder, my eyes widening. “What? I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Maybe not, but it seems like you tried—and I’ve heard all about those guys who fuck their cars, so anything is possible.”

“Their cars?”

Sounds even more impossible.

“Mhm. Anything else you want to tell me about?”

I hum. “Stay away from the curtains. She might try to strangle you.”

She touches her throat, a small yelp passing through her lips. “Great. Thanks.”

“Relax.” It feels like second nature when I touch her hand, my fingers brushing against the sides of her wrist. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She looks up at me with those round eyes, and I nearly melt. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Whatever it takes.”

“You don’t have to protect me.”