Where A Witch Goeth

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Motive Behind The Making

"You know, sexy times aren't supposed to have this kind of effect on a man," I laughed at Van as he whipped around his bedroom—still mostly blind but at several times human speed. I was propped on my elbows, still naked beneath the velvet comforter, watching the blur that was my—

My what?

Boyfriend didn't seem right. Life partner probably wasn't a term yet. Future husband sounded both stupid and terrifying—because I knew that marriage was going to take place in the past—where I was apparently going at some point, ill-equipped as I would be. 

Maybe I should start reading up on eighteenth-century life, I mused. Of course, even that wouldn't be as straight-forward as in my time. I would have to perform actual research, pouring through books in a library. Not for the first time, I bemoaned the loss of my cell phone and the internet. How much easier would it be to learn to milk goats from a YouTube video than a book? And I'm sure there was a Wikihow for everything from churning butter to knitting.

Yeah, I was definitely going to need to sew and knit, weren't I?

Fuck.

You're a witch, my inner one reminded me. You can just take some cloth and magic the shit out of that. Easy-peasy. Strike that one off the list.

Would I, though? Magic the shit out of things in the past? As I listened to Van tossing things about in his closet in a blind attempt to dress, I realized that no one had ever mentioned Liadh being a witch. Several times people had noted that she had Fae-blood, but that she did not show any kind of power. I wondered why I would decide to hide my craft like that?

Was it the times? Was I afraid of being branded a witch in the eighteenth backcountry of North Carolina? Or was it Van? What would he be like as a young mortal man, just a few years removed from the superstitious, witch-burning Old World? Would he have been religious? Would he have thought that a witch was not merely a woman gifted with supernatural power she did not choose, but would he have thought my powers came from evil trafficking with some dark source?

Would I be lying to him then, like I was lying to him now?

Fuck. One problem at a time, I told myself.

Let the past be the past, for now, I decided. Right now, I was deep in the very important modern throes of defining our relationship.

Was Van my fiancé now? I frowned down at Minnie's ring and decided, no. He wasn't. I was still wearing another woman's ring under false pretenses, and Van was an old-fashioned man. He probably wouldn't consider us engaged until he made some kind of formal declaration.

So what was he?

I supposed he was my...vampire.

Emphasis on the possession.

I smiled to myself, but as he shifted from a blur to a full stop just in front of my face, he assumed the smile was for him. "Get up, Lazybones," he purred, as he kissed me.

"Aren't you supposed to be mostly dead right now?" I pretended to frown at him as I patted the bed. "Come back in here so that I can wake you up again at sunset, and we can have sexy times all over again."

"Hmmm. That sounds sinfully good, but your love spell has heated me to my bones. I've never had so much energy in the day since I was a man, and I do not mean to waste it. I've a thing to show you."

I frowned in earnest. "But...what can you show me in the middle of the day? You're blind and prone to burst into flames if you walk past an improperly drawn drape."

He gave me an exasperated growl at my observation of his limitations as he pulled me from the bed—gently, at human speed. "Half-blind, and we won't be at any danger from the sun. Get a move on, lass."