The Witch: Book Two of The Sorceress Saga Taliesin Govannon (best free ereader .txt) 📖

be sharing anything… extra legal we might see with any authorities.”

                “It would really help.” I added.

                Jexo smiled.  “Then they are safe from me and mine.” he said. He took another bite of his food. “You know, when my sources said that a new Sorceress had come into her power, I didn’t believe it. I honestly never expected to meet one in my lifetime.”

                “How did they know?” I asked.  “We were careful to not tell anyone… at least until I’m at full strength.”

                “That kind of energy?” Jexo replied.  “There were thousands of sensitives who noticed something was up.  A few of them could even say what.”

                I have no idea why I said what I said next… it just kind of jumped into my head.

                “I may need to call upon you again, some time in the future.” I said. “It may even be in the hour of my greatest need. I want to know that you’ll answer the call.”

                Jexo looked shocked for a moment, and then calmed his visage. “If there is breath in my body, I will answer your call.” he said.

                Everyone was silent for several minutes. Then Jack spoke up.

                “What’s for dessert?”

                                                                                                *                *                *

                It wasn’t Fae weed. It wasn’t even Vincent weed.

                But it’s still not bad.

                I took a hit and exhaled slowly, tasting the complex terpine profile of that particular strain. I looked over at Gaia, seated on the sofa across from me, and raised my joint in salute.

                She did the same. “I’ll admit, this is more comfy than the hammocks in the shelter.”

                I shrugged. “I liked sleeping in the open air, in a hammock.”

                “Yeah, but here we have real wood doors between us and the ‘Katsu loves Jack’ show.” she replied.  “We don’t have to worry about the silencing spell failing at a disturbingly loud time.”

                “Here’s to wood doors!” I said, toasting with my joint again.

                Tiffany strode in, back ramrod straight, and stood before us. “Do either of you two ladies need anything?” she asked seriously.

                “Yes.” I said, looking at her. “I need you to be one hundred percent truthful with me. Nothing that’s said will leave this room… okay?”

                She shifted uncomfortably. “Yes mam.”

                “Okay. Do you like to smoke weed?” I asked her seriously.

                “Yes mam, I do.” she answered seriously.

                “Then I need you to remove the stick from your butt, take your hair down, and smoke one with me.” I said, smiling.

                She finally broke a grin and relaxed.  She sat down on a chair between Gaia and me and took the fresh joint I passed her.

                “So Sargent, is it okay to call you Tiffany?” I said.

                “I’d prefer it, mam.” she said, lighting the doobie.

                “And I’d prefer it if you didn’t call me ‘mam’.” I said, grinning. “I’m like, six years younger than you.”

                “If you prefer, Lady Sorceress.”

                “I’d prefer you to call me Annabelle.”

                “I'll try, but I'm the second generation in the business. Everyone outside of my squad has been 'sir' or 'mam' my entire life." She exhaled, and finally seemed to start to relax.

                “Second-generation, huh?" Gaia said next. "Who was in the business… your Dad? Mom?"

                “Uncle." she replied.  "My parents were career military intelligence whose mission went south and they never returned. Uncle Jex was their only next of kin, so I got shipped out here."

                “Wait, Jexo’s your uncle?” I asked, surprised.

                Tiffany nodded. “My Father was his youngest brother.”

                “Well, I'm sorry to hear about your parents." I said. "My father died when I was young."

                “I never knew mine.” she said without a hint of sadness. “They died when I was eleven months old.”

                “So is your Uncle a good man?” Gaia asked.

                “He’s been kind to me, even with the military discipline.” Tiffany answered. “He’s kept me out of most of the worst skirmishes, but has given me the tools to take care of myself when that can’t happen. He’s also raised me to take no shit from any man.”

                “Here here!” Gaia said, raising her joint.

                Tiffany and I returned the toast.

                                                                                                *                *                *

                I awoke the next morning to the sun… okay, that artificial sun, being in the middle of a fairly large mountain… shining in through the pseudo-windows. I stretched, reveling in the ridiculous comfort of the bed I had slept in.  I looked around to admire the interior of the room.

                Antique vanity with a selection of top-shelf moisturizers and lotions… closet bigger than some apartments… what looks disturbingly like an original Monet… Greek bust on a pedestal… Gaia sleeping while sitting up in a chair… my own private bathroom…

                I stopped short and glanced back. My green-skinned Fae friend was indeed fast asleep in a chair, her feet stretched in front of the door to alert her if anyone tried to open it in the night.

                I climbed out of bed and put on the silk robe that had been brought to me the night before. I walked softly to the door, careful to not disturb her.

                I was inches away from her.

                “GOOD MORNING!” I shouted.

                Gaia sprang up from her chair, letting three daggers fly as she did. They landed with three thunks!, lodging themselves in the wooden bedroom door. She looked around, ready for action, when she saw me standing there grinning.

                “Really?” she said, hand on her hip.

                “Uh, I could say the same thing to you.” I said, playfully shaking my finger at her. “I seem to remember you having your own room, with a far more comfortable bed?” I added, looking at the chair she had slept in.

                “We’re sleeping in a mountain fortress loaded with mercenaries.” she said matter-of-factly. “With enough firepower in said mountain to level Colorado, I might add. I wanted to make sure that this wasn’t some elaborate trap.”

                “Well, I appreciate your attention to detail,” I