mythean arcana 07 - witchs fate by Linsey Hall Page A

away.
    She’d just better hope he kept helping her. And figure out a way to force his hand if he reneged. Or tried to keep her.
    “We need to plan our story for when we’re in Salem,” she said. “I don’t think we can just walk in there and say we want to find the most powerful witches in town.”
    He nodded. “Let’s plan while eating. I’m starving.”
    She followed him down the hall to a huge kitchen, Kitty at her side. Sweeping counters were topped with tall windows that looked out on the Glencoe Mountains. On the other side of the kitchen, a large hearth burst into flame. It was like something out of a magazine.
    Sofia couldn’t take her gaze off Malcolm as he walked to the huge, stainless-steel refrigerator and pulled open the door. His slacks were expensive and tailored to fit him perfectly. The sleeves of the black sweater he wore were pushed up to reveal strong forearms and big hands. It hugged his strong shoulders and fit his waist perfectly. He looked like a billionaire on vacation. The wide metal cuff gleamed dully on his wrist. 
    It had been a good idea on his part. Her level of power wasn’t quite enough to cause alarm in most Mytheans. She was on the stronger end of the spectrum—able to cause destruction and come up with some pretty nasty spells—but Malcolm’s was the kind that made people run. Especially since, as a warlock, he specialized in destruction.
    “Are omelets all right?” He turned to glance at her.
    Damn. She wished he weren’t so handsome. The dichotomy of his big, muscular body and his elegant features was enough to make her head spin. “Yeah, fine.”
    He pulled out ingredients and put them on the counter. Grabbed two fine plates from a cabinet below the counter, then waved his hand over the lot. A second later, a steaming omelet sat on each plate. 
    Neat trick. “Not much for cooking?”
    “Cooking for one is a bit of a bore, isn’t it?” he asked, then pulled forks out of the drawer in front of him. He picked up the plates and approached her. He nodded to the space behind her. “We’ll sit there.” 
    Sofia turned and went to the delicate wooden table in an alcove surrounded by windows. The mountains stretched out before her, their rounded tops glittering with snow. 
    Malcolm put the plates on the table. Kitty hopped up onto a chair.
    He glanced at her. “Hang on.”
    He walked back to the ingredients, pulled out another plate, and made another omelet. He returned and set it in front of kitty.
    “Thanks,” Sofia said. 
    Kitty meowed.
    Malcolm shrugged, then turned back to the counter and got down two coffee mugs and a bag of coffee grounds. He filled the cups with water, then waved his hand over them. A second later, they were full of steaming coffee. “Cream or sugar?”
    “Neither.” She took the cup gratefully and sipped. Not bad. “So, what’s our cover in Salem? It’s a small, notoriously tight community. They’ll notice strangers. Most of Salem is mortal, but I’ve heard that the Mytheans have their own secret street. Mortals can’t see it, but it’s hard for even Mytheans to find.”
    He sat and took a bite of his omelet, met her gaze while he chewed. She tried hers. Also not bad. Kitty was scarfing it down, so she clearly approved. Familiars weren’t normal cats, thank fates, so their diet could consist of pretty much anything.
    After he swallowed, he said, “What if you’re looking for your sister? You’ve heard recently that you have a half-sister who is a witch with the Salem coven.”
    She thought about it. “Not bad. It’s not out of the realm of possibility, so it could work. You’re my, what? Bodyguard?”
    “I was thinking—man. I’m your man. You don’t go anywhere without me.” His gaze was serious. Dark and intense.
    Her stomach muscles fluttered. “How about personal assistant?”
    He laughed, his gaze lightening. He looked surprised. At his own laughter?
    His gaze turned serious then. “I think not. I’m your