Prelude to a Witch Amanda Lee (romance book recommendations .txt) 📖

things kill to feed, why haven’t we seen more murders?”

“Because we’re at the beginning,” I replied. “This is the start of the cycle. If we want to stop them, we have to do it before they get a foothold in the community. The more they feed, the more dangerous they’ll get.”

“Then let’s get some poppets and trap them,” Chief Terry said.

“That’s the plan,” I said. “I need to go to Hypnotic. We’re going to need Thistle to make poppets for us.”

“Lunch first,” Landon insisted, his hand on top of mine. “You need to eat and keep up your strength. You can go to Thistle for the poppets after.”

I thought about arguing, but found I was hungry. “Okay.” I leaned in and laid my head on his shoulder, smiling when he kissed my forehead. “Lunch ... and then we’ll start working a plan.”

“I would like to point out that we’ll be working the exact plan I suggested twenty minutes ago,” Aunt Tillie said. “We’re going to build a trap. That’s what I said to do.”

“You’re wonderful and wise,” Landon drawled. “We’re all in awe of you. Is that what you want to hear?”

Aunt Tillie didn’t miss a beat. “Yes. I would like a crown, too.”

“I’ll get right on that.”

19

Nineteen

I ate my soup and sandwich — there was little joy to be found in it — and then headed outside. Aunt Tillie had excused herself after eating, explaining she would find her own way home, and then disappeared. I figured that wasn’t a good sign, but as long as she wasn’t my responsibility, it didn’t matter.

“What are you thinking?” Landon asked when he found me sitting on a bench outside the diner.

“I’m thinking you ate two BLTs for lunch, both of them slathered with mayonnaise, and if we want you to live a long and happy life, we need to start watching your food intake,” I answered.

“Don’t torture me,” he warned with a grin, laughing when I glared at him. “I’ll switch to light mayonnaise. Will that make you happy?”

“Not really. I want to keep you a long time. You have to make some adjustments.”

“Are you going to make adjustments?”

“I don’t eat nearly as much as you.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

I didn’t have to ask what he meant. We were circling each other. “Hannah’s story makes sense,” I said. “The two men in Salem killed themselves in a dark ritual in an attempt to live forever.”

“It’s interesting that they had to die to live forever.”

“It’s not living. Not really. Their souls carry on, but they have no bodies. They can’t eat BLTs ever again. Would you want to live that life?”

“Absolutely not, but I understand reasons for choosing it.”

I was dumbfounded. “You can’t be serious?”

“Oh, don’t look at me that way.” He shook his head. “I’m not saying I want to turn into a shade. I’m saying that I can see how it happened.”

“Under what scenario would you agree to that life?” I demanded.

“One in which you were in trouble and it was my only way to save your life.”

“What are the odds of that happening?” I asked after several moments of contemplation.

“Probably not very good. But I can see other people choosing that life for another reason.”

“And that is?”

“Fear. People are afraid to die. Can you imagine being the sort of person who kills and steals? Even if you didn’t believe in an afterlife, or punishment from a god or goddess, there would always be this niggling worry.”

“I still wouldn’t choose the life of a shade,” I said.

“I wouldn’t either. I want this life with you. That said, the idea of leaving you shreds my heart. I can see someone going that route if they were terminally ill and didn’t want to leave a family member.”

“That’s not what happened in Salem,” I pointed out.

“No, but I wasn’t talking about Salem specifically. You indicated that you couldn’t understand how anybody would go that route. I can think of a few reasons.”

I studied his profile, debating. “You know that you wouldn’t love me if you decided to turn into a shade.”

He frowned. “I’ll always love you.”

“You can’t love me if you don’t have a soul.”

His expression didn’t change. “How can you be sure?”

“That’s the way it works.”

“Explain it to me as if I’m an idiot.”

I laughed, which was probably his intention. “Your soul is who you are.” I rested my hand on his chest. “When you die, your body will be put in the ground. That won’t be you, though. Your soul is what makes you, you.”

He caught my hand and pressed the palm to his lips.

“You lose your soul if you become a shade,” I pressed on. “I don’t know if you willingly abandon it, but shades don’t have souls.”

“Do ghosts?”

“Yes. Their soul is what stays behind.”

“So ... what fuels a shade?”

That was an interesting question.

“If it’s the soul that fuels ghosts, and shades are like angry ghosts, what fuels them?” Landon looked legitimately curious.

“That’s a good question.”

He smirked. “I stumped my super witch. That’s kind of fun.”

“I’m not a super witch. Aunt Tillie is.”

“Aunt Tillie is powerful, but you’re the super witch. She knows it, too.” He leaned back and put his arm around my shoulders. “I’ll always love you. Forever and always.”

“Just don’t opt to become a shade and we won’t have a problem.”

“Fair enough. I ... .” He broke off and narrowed his eyes as he stared across the road. “What is that?”

I followed his gaze, expecting some sort of attack. Instead, I found Aunt Tillie standing on the sidewalk across from Mrs. Little’s shop. She appeared to have some sort of animal with her ... and it wasn’t small. I started to stand, but Landon kept me anchored to his side. “Let’s see what she’s doing before we intervene.”

“That looks like a bear,” I said.

“It’s too small to be a bear.”

“Maybe it’s a cub.”

“Then it’s probably not dangerous.”

I couldn’t believe how blasé he was being. “Landon ... .”

“I want to see what she