Under Witch Aura (Moon Shadow Series) by Maria E Schneider

I’m fine.”
    He halted on the walkway.
“You’re
sure? No ghosts? Or spell-demon cats, dogs, whatever?”
    I hadn't expected such
concern over me
arriving unexpectedly at his front door. “No, I swear I’m
fine. I brought my witching fork to check your place for traces of
Sarah.”
    He settled back on his
heels and
rearranged his train of thought. Finally he said, “Not a bad
idea.”
    I joined him on the
walkway. “If
Sarah has anything to do with whatever has spelled you, I want to
find it.”
    He leaned in and kissed my
lips
lightly.
    I blushed, caught off-guard
by the warm
welcome. “I would have called first, but...” I could
hardly tell him I planned to check for Sarah come hell or high water.
    “It's a good idea to hunt
for
her,” he said. “The ring is warm, all the time, even on
home ground.”
    I touched the silver band.
It radiated
a steady heat, not enough to burn, but a constant warning.
    White Feather led the way
inside. Like
many newer Santa Fe properties, his house was brown adobe with lots
of tile. Not only was it possible to see from the living room into
the kitchen, with a breeze White Feather could easily check down the
wide hallways and into the bedrooms.
    The tiled floors were
generously
decorated with Navajo wool rugs. His home was everything mine was
not; large, open and expensively furnished. The colors were similar
to mine, a mix of desert earth browns with generous splashes of the
deep blue of the sky.
    Before I was halfway into
the living
room, a bright pink purse on a side table caught my attention. I cut
my eyes to White Feather. He didn’t notice my sudden tension.
    Okay. This was too obvious
to simply
ignore. “New purse?”
    “What?”
    I pointed to it.
    He rolled his eyes. “Tara.
She
left it here after a particularly bad training session a few weeks
ago, and then forgot it the next three times. I need to drop it off.”
    “Oh.” I relaxed, but threw
an inward curse at Tara for causing jealousy about some Claire person
that may not even exist. I set my backpack down on one of the six
woven fabric chairs. The arms and legs were sturdy oak, carved with
gorgeous detailed patterns, ones I’d love to investigate
someday.
    Six was a magical number,
and White
Feather was a warlock. Either the number of chairs was significant or
the way they were aligned was protective, magical or both.
    White Feather said, “If
Sarah is
the reason for my paranoia, and she’s only a ghost, I’ll
give her a send off she won't want repeated.”
    I pulled out the witching
fork. “You
can get rid of a ghost easily?”
    He smiled, but his eyes
held steel. “A
specific ghost, yes. Especially if there’s an object here tied
to her. If not for Grandfather, I would have purged for all ghosts
after you told me you saw one.”
    “Ah, your grandfather might
not
like it if you purged him.” I walked the perimeter of the
living room. The fork didn’t vibrate even slightly.
    Working my way into the
kitchen, I held
the fork high, low and in-between. The bar at the side of the kitchen
held one of White Feather’s inventions, a beautifully detailed
electric train powered by concept windmills.
    On my last visit, he had
demonstrated
how the train delivered whole coffee beans to a grinding station and
then paused with one of the cars positioned under the chute at the
other end. Once filled, the train took the freshly ground beans up a
hill and dumped them into a chute that fed either the espresso maker
or the coffee pot.
    The train completed the
circuit past a
detailed forest backdrop where it collected green beans from another
hamper and deposited them at a roasting station. White Feather had
carved each car from a different type of wood.
    I gave the train a friendly
pat. “I
love your train.” The witching fork didn't quiver the least bit
near the train. Relieved, I looked at him for permission before
going down the hallway.
    He nodded, looking slightly
amused.
    I had never been in his
bedroom. It was
as