Read Online Under Witch Curse (Moon Shadow Series) by Maria Schneider - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Maria Schneider
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associates protecting our identity, and we both used disguises. We both knew they were disguises. Your brother met Mat in a social context and kept it that way. What is he trying to hide?”
White Feather was silent for a while. “A lot of women don’t like cops.”
“And a lot of them do.”
“Some women don’t like...warlocks. He might have done it to protect me. Or hide it from her. He’s done that before.”
“Mat is a witch. She’s an obvious , never even been in the closet, witch. She’s met you. What’s to hide?”
He chewed on that for a while. When we pulled into his driveway he said, “If he’s been using her to investigate some case or other, I might have to kick his ass myself.”
“You can get in line, but if that’s what he was doing, after Mat gets done with him, there’s isn’t going to be much left to kick.” And if she didn’t finish the job for some reason, I would.
Chapter 10
Pounding on the front door early the next morning—very early—had me rolling across the expanse of the king bed, reaching blindly for my silver dagger. White Feather jumped into his pants before I found my weapon.
His ability to explore with wind filled in the cracks between the knocking. “It’s your dad,” he sputtered.
It took a moment to register. “Moonlight madness!” I relaxed my grip on the sheath and sat back on the bed, blinking blearily.
White Feather finished pulling on a tee shirt, and only then noticed my stupor. “Isn’t there an emergency?”
I hadn’t even started searching for my clothes. Around a yawn, I shook my head. “Not necessarily. Dad gets up early.”
“And visits? It’s 5 a.m.!”
My brain was too befuddled to explain. I nabbed a sweater and jeans from the pile on the floor and stumbled along behind White Feather to the front door.
It was an effort to discern which of the two very large men at our front door was Dad. “Dad, it’s five in the morning!” It was also freezing out. “Come in. Or let me get my coat. Is Mom okay?”
White Feather retreated behind me, allowing everyone to crowd into the foyer.
Dad eyed me up and down. “You still in bed? How do you expect to finish building this house if you’re sleeping in?” He subjected White Feather to a snort of disdain before turning to the man with him, a guy almost as bearlike in size as Dad. The main difference between them was that Dad had a head of short black hair turning silver, and the friend was blessed with a brown beard and a crown of curly brown hair that hung almost to his shoulders.
I stifled a groan. White Feather was going to disown me. I knew moving in with him was a bad idea. I had mistakenly worried about my own bad habits and hadn’t even considered those of my family.
The barrel of a man next to my father held out a rough palm. “Mason,” he said.
I shook his hand. “Adriel, and this is White Feather.”
“No,” he said, ducking his head shyly. “I’m a mason. Your dad says you need some building done.”
I blinked fully awake, my suspicions rising.
Dad did nothing to alleviate my concerns when he asked, “Have you at least put on the coffee? It’s a little cool in here too. I’ll start a fire.” Dad had a habit of taking in strays—dogs, horses, and yes, people.
It would be rude to ask if he had found this mason under a bridge, but it was entirely possible. I sighed. “Yeah, sure, the coffee is about to brew.”
White Feather was already in the kitchen by the time I turned around. Since the coffee train wasn’t yet in operation, he made coffee the old fashioned way, in a plain glass coffee pot.
Dad lumbered to the living room fireplace and ignited the logs. It wasn’t even the effort of striking a match for him, although his arm muscles bulged slightly as he changed his internal energy to fire and directed it at the kindling.
The mason stood with his hands in his pockets, staring down at the floor. “Looks like you need a wall finished
White Feather was silent for a while. “A lot of women don’t like cops.”
“And a lot of them do.”
“Some women don’t like...warlocks. He might have done it to protect me. Or hide it from her. He’s done that before.”
“Mat is a witch. She’s an obvious , never even been in the closet, witch. She’s met you. What’s to hide?”
He chewed on that for a while. When we pulled into his driveway he said, “If he’s been using her to investigate some case or other, I might have to kick his ass myself.”
“You can get in line, but if that’s what he was doing, after Mat gets done with him, there’s isn’t going to be much left to kick.” And if she didn’t finish the job for some reason, I would.
Chapter 10
Pounding on the front door early the next morning—very early—had me rolling across the expanse of the king bed, reaching blindly for my silver dagger. White Feather jumped into his pants before I found my weapon.
His ability to explore with wind filled in the cracks between the knocking. “It’s your dad,” he sputtered.
It took a moment to register. “Moonlight madness!” I relaxed my grip on the sheath and sat back on the bed, blinking blearily.
White Feather finished pulling on a tee shirt, and only then noticed my stupor. “Isn’t there an emergency?”
I hadn’t even started searching for my clothes. Around a yawn, I shook my head. “Not necessarily. Dad gets up early.”
“And visits? It’s 5 a.m.!”
My brain was too befuddled to explain. I nabbed a sweater and jeans from the pile on the floor and stumbled along behind White Feather to the front door.
It was an effort to discern which of the two very large men at our front door was Dad. “Dad, it’s five in the morning!” It was also freezing out. “Come in. Or let me get my coat. Is Mom okay?”
White Feather retreated behind me, allowing everyone to crowd into the foyer.
Dad eyed me up and down. “You still in bed? How do you expect to finish building this house if you’re sleeping in?” He subjected White Feather to a snort of disdain before turning to the man with him, a guy almost as bearlike in size as Dad. The main difference between them was that Dad had a head of short black hair turning silver, and the friend was blessed with a brown beard and a crown of curly brown hair that hung almost to his shoulders.
I stifled a groan. White Feather was going to disown me. I knew moving in with him was a bad idea. I had mistakenly worried about my own bad habits and hadn’t even considered those of my family.
The barrel of a man next to my father held out a rough palm. “Mason,” he said.
I shook his hand. “Adriel, and this is White Feather.”
“No,” he said, ducking his head shyly. “I’m a mason. Your dad says you need some building done.”
I blinked fully awake, my suspicions rising.
Dad did nothing to alleviate my concerns when he asked, “Have you at least put on the coffee? It’s a little cool in here too. I’ll start a fire.” Dad had a habit of taking in strays—dogs, horses, and yes, people.
It would be rude to ask if he had found this mason under a bridge, but it was entirely possible. I sighed. “Yeah, sure, the coffee is about to brew.”
White Feather was already in the kitchen by the time I turned around. Since the coffee train wasn’t yet in operation, he made coffee the old fashioned way, in a plain glass coffee pot.
Dad lumbered to the living room fireplace and ignited the logs. It wasn’t even the effort of striking a match for him, although his arm muscles bulged slightly as he changed his internal energy to fire and directed it at the kindling.
The mason stood with his hands in his pockets, staring down at the floor. “Looks like you need a wall finished
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