The Memory Witch by Heather Topham Wood Read Free Book Online Page B

worse than her bite, I swear. She’s been scared for a long time that she would die and no one would be around to carry on her work.” He seemed sincere, but it did nothing to lessen my irritation. I didn’t want to understand her reasons behind manipulating my mother and me into this predicament.
    I decided the best tact was to change the subject. “Where’s your room?”
    I flushed at his raised eyebrows. He must have taken the query as me hitting on him, but I was merely trying to turn the conversation away from Stella. I loved Tanner and although I noticed how attractive Mason was I didn’t want to send out any wrong signals.
    Thankfully, Mason’s handsome face turned back to a neutral expression and he made no suggestive remarks in response to my question. “I live in the cabin behind the house.”
    Walking over to my window, he opened the curtains. I walked over to him and had to stand flush with him to see out. A dirt path led from the backdoor of the main house to the cottage I had noticed from earlier. It was situated about ten yards from the house and looked more modern than the rest of the house.
    He ran his fingers through his black hair and cleared his throat as I stood staring out for a long minute. The noise startled me and I knocked into him as I tried to move swiftly away from the window. His arms reached out to steady me.
    He quirked an eyebrow in my direction and inquired, “Are you going to be okay?”
    I stepped back to move out of his hold. “I’m fine,” I stated flatly. I added, “Thank you for everything tonight.”
    My gratitude seemed to make him uncomfortable. “Well…goodnight.”
    “Goodnight,” I parroted.
    As I watched his broad form make his way out my room, I wondered about Stella’s mysterious nephew. He was good-looking in a way that was dangerous. A few kind words and a rakish smile had numbed my misery for a few blissful minutes. I didn’t need that type of distraction while at the Chadwick House. I would do what was asked of me and flee back to my intended future.

Chapter Seven
     
    An abrupt knock on my door pulled me out of a restless sleep. I had tossed and turned for most of the night in my new bed. The house was eerily quiet—I kept hearing every creak of the structure settling and every small animal noise from outside. I was used to sleeping with a radio or TV on through the night. My room was without either, and it would take some getting used to.
    Mason’s little joke about the dead witches also hadn’t helped. My nightmares were a collection of my deepest fears. I saw haggard faces with blood dripping from their fingertips, watching me as I slept. They uttered curses and spat at me, as I stayed motionless on the bed. In the middle of the night, I sat up terrified as the remnants of the nightmare drifted away.
    I had no idea how a witch in training should dress, so I simple put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. After I slipped into a pair of flip-flops and tied back my long hair into a ponytail, I went into the hallway to search for Stella. Cooking smells drifted up from the floor below which made me guess she had already started breakfast.
    Finding the kitchen was like making my way through a maze. The house had more twists and turns than I could keep up with. If the house was built in the nineteenth century, I guessed the complexity of the layout came from several additions made over the years. As I passed through the rooms, I saw a living room, gathering room, pantry, laundry room, and two bathrooms. When I entered the kitchen, I suspected that there were several other rooms that I have yet to come across.
    The house seemed much less intimidating during the light of day. Although the décor was ancient, everything appeared well taken care of. The furniture was a hodge podge of styles from the past five decades. I guessed Stella was a pack rack by the amount of things that littered her home. I seriously doubted anyone needed that many afghan throws