Blue Flames

Chapter 63

"I think the witch was enamored with my mother."

"Well, of course he was," Irene said, stuffing her mouth with a sandwich. "Did you see the way he looked at you?"

Arthur was in the closet, changing his clothes. Irene, Noah and I sat around the table in my room. The box's contents spilled on the table, and Irene shoved the rest of her sandwich into her mouth. The fire crackling in the hearth and a floor lamp in the corner were the only sources of light. The room felt cozy and warm under the orange glow.

We had come straight to mine and Arthur's room once dinner wrapped up. The first thing I did was discard the heels and change into a tank top and sweatpants. Charles and Marianno were gone when I got out of the closet, and Irene was eating a sandwich since she didn't eat earlier at dinner. Being on guard duty with the two vampires, they stood guard during dinner. Arthur walked into the closet as I got out to change out of his suit.

"How did he look at me?" I asked.

"He couldn't take his eyes off you," Irene said. I rolled my eyes. "No, seriously, Elle. The guy has such intense eyes, I was surprised you didn't burst into flames during dinner."

Okay. Maybe he had a problem with staring. "I think you're exaggerating a little."

"She is not," Noah said. He somehow managed to loom even when sitting down. I looked at him. Really? Now he was being talkative?

"It all started because of you, anyway," I stabbed a finger his way. "If you didn't put the idea in their heads, no one would be seeing things that didn't exist."

"The truth might make you uncomfortable. But it's still the truth."

They just wouldn't stop. So I changed the subject.

"Where did Charles and Marianno go?" I flipped through the first pages of my mother's diary. According to what I was reading, she had started this diary when she was around sixteen. It was fascinating, how my mother's entire life was stuffed into a stack of yellowing pages.

"Arthur has them doing a security sweep around the place," Irene said, brushing her hands against each other. She picked up the photographs that Noah had just been going through.

The pages in front of me were accounts of my mother's first trip outside her native village. Her words gave me the feeling she had been a recluse in her hometown.

I wondered when the diary ended. My curiosity about that trumped my need to know everything about my mother. I flipped the diary to the last page.

"Where did you get the scar?" Noah asked.

He was looking at the scar on my arm. I eyed his own scars, the three slashes across his face, and grinned. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

He blinked. A ghost of a smile lightened his face. "Maybe some other time."

"Your choice." I shrugged.

Arthur walked out of the closet. Yep, he still looked good in a t-shirt and cargo pants. Even better, actually. He looked wilder.

He perched on the arm of my chair and put his arm along its back. It groaned under his weight. "What are you reading?"

"I skipped to the last page." It contained a few sketches out of which I couldn't make heads nor tails. There were circles and complicated glyphs, and... were those drawings of animals? "Do you understand any of this?"

Arthur tapped the drawing in the center of the page. "Spells. It's..." He squinted his eyes, a feeling of wariness shaking the bond.

"What?" I asked.