Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
“Uh…considering she never raises her voice above a whisper and comports herself…no, wait…you all comport yourselves around her like she’s made of fine porcelain, I already got that,” I returned.
“This is family business.”
“Conceded,” I agreed. “She’s still going to be spending the day with me. What I’m sharing with you is, I’m sensing I don’t have the tools I need to handle it, primarily because I don’t know what tools to pack in my toolbox.”
“It’s Chastity’s business,” he continued. “You have Tempie’s, Prue’s and my gratitude for offering her the opportunity to break her self-imposed exile. You’re aware she’s fragile. You’ll have a mind. That’s all I need to know, and it’s all you need to know.”
“Did something happen to her?”
He said nothing.
Oh God.
Something happened to her.
I stumbled away from him as the immense weight of this knowledge landed on me.
I didn’t even know what it was.
I just knew that beautiful girl with her riot of hair and delicate features and whispered words endured something awful.
He caught my jaw in his hand and his face was in mine again.
His hold wasn’t harsh, or cruel, just supremely attention-getting.
“Don’t,” he whispered fiercely.
I realized only then my eyes had filled with tears.
And I knew what he was saying.
I didn’t need to lose it, start crying, acting weird and letting Chastity know I knew, even if I didn’t.
With us having this convo, she probably had some sense of what was going on.
But I didn’t need to return with red eyes, a runny nose, or any visible indication Battle shared his sister’s secrets, or that I felt sorry for her.
“Okay,” I said shakily.
He waited until I got my shit together before he asked softly, “You’ll have a mind?”
I nodded even with my jaw still in his hand. “Yes. I’ll totally have a mind.”
He let me go, stepped back and said, “Thank you.”
I swallowed.
Then I shook out my hands like I could shake off what I didn’t know, I just knew it was bad.
Finally, I squared my shoulders.
And I said, “We best get going.”
He nodded.
We walked silently, side by side, back to the car.
Bartholomew had made an effort to follow us but either got distracted or too tired halfway, so he joined us at that point and accompanied us the rest of the journey.
Chastity was in the back seat of the car.
Prudence was in the front.
Temperance was staring at me like, if I gave a single hint I didn’t have this, she’d tackle me.
I opened the driver’s side door and turned to her. “Burns the Bread. We have our instructions. But if those cookies are that good, and we eat them all on the way home, you only have yourself to blame for not coming.”
Temperance’s eyes rolled, but, even if it was a miniscule movement, I still saw her shoulders slump with relief.
Oh yes.
Chastity endured something awful.
Temperance then pushed beyond me to stick her head into the car and declare, “If no biscuits arrive with you on your return, there will be consequences.”
“We’ll buy loads so we can’t physically eat them all,” Prudence offered.
“This is acceptable,” Temperance said.
She pulled out of the car, but it was only me who saw, and obviously felt, when she grabbed my hand, gave it a firm squeeze and let it go.
If she was so worried, I didn’t understand why she wasn’t going with.
But then, when I climbed in, shut the door, and looked out the side window at Battle and Temperance standing there together, I did.
Battle and Temperance, the two strong ones, the two eldest, the two the others could lean on, needed the two who leaned on them to fly the coop.
On their own.
(Or, with me.)
And by damn, that was what they were going to do.
I started the car and opened my window.
“Any biscuit orders from you, Your Grace?” I asked.
At that, the muscle leapt across his whole cheek.
I smiled smugly.
“Battie likes their jam donuts,” Prudence said from beside me.
“Donuts it is,” I said. Then, “Ready, girls?”
“Ready!” Prudence cried.
Chastity said nothing.
“Tallyho!” I shouted and hit the gas.
Prudence giggled.
Chastity was silent.
And off we went.
CHAPTER 8
THE VISITORS
Prue, Chassie and I fell through the front door of The Downs, weighted with bakery boxes and bags of souvenirs, wearing (oh yes, we went there) flower crowns with streaming ribbons down the back, and we did this giggling.
“Oh my goodness, I think you’re the only person alive who could have a serious conversation with a white witch about love spells,” Prue was saying.
“For half an hour,” Chassie whisper-added (yes, she was still whispering, but as we all knew, Rome wasn’t built in a day).
“And you bought every single book she wrote,” Prue said.
“About white witchcraft,” Chassie again whisper-added.
“And there are four of them,” Prue finished.
“A girl never knows when she’ll need a love spell,” I stated blithely. “Or a bitch eradication one, though I think those require eyes of newt, and what bums me out about that was learning from my new friend Anastasia, that’s just mustard seed.”