Free Witchful Thinking by H.P. Mallory Page B

been separated from Rand for more than two weeks, I’d also prefer some one-on-one time. Pun most definitely intended.
    Either way, Christa was safe and sound and back at Pelham Manor. Although, she wasn’t too thrilled with the fact that I had charmed her into traveling to Australia on her own.
    “I had to do it, Chris,” I said with a hopeful smile.
    It was early evening and we were sitting on my couch in the living room of my small house—about two miles from Pelham Manor. It might seem strange that Christa lived in Rand’s home and I didn’t (but really, what counts as strange when we’re talking about witches, vampires, and werewolves?). Anyway, when Christa andI first moved to Alnwick, England, to live with Rand (due to the fact that Rand said I needed protection once I’d been introduced to the Underworld, and he could offer said protection), we both lived alongside of him in Pelham Manor. But as emotions between Rand and me got more confused and even more frustrating, I decided I needed my own space, so I moved out. Christa had continued to occupy Pelham Manor, employed as Rand’s assistant. And as for jealousy? It actually wasn’t an arrangement that bothered me at all, mainly because Christa had a boyfriend and Rand had put a spell on her that made her feel only brotherly feelings toward him.
    So tonight was girls’ night. I’d given express instructions to everyone to leave us alone. Anyone or anything with testosterone was most definitely not invited. No, tonight was going to be about reconnecting with the one person who was closer to me than anyone on the planet, and we had lots to catch up on.
    “It wasn’t fun sightseeing by myself,” Christa whined, her lower lip protruding in a pout as my cat, Plum, jumped off my lap and sashayed over to her, rubbing up against her and begging for a chin scratch. “You know I hate being by myself.”
    If John hadn’t told her I was supposed to be her tour guide in Australia but had chosen to battle Bella’s legion instead, she never would have found fault with the situation. Yes, I believed in honesty being the best policy and all of those other poignant idioms, but come on, John could have thrown me a bone on this one …
    “Well, to make up for it, I have a lot to tell you,” I offered and then paused, hoping Christa would go for the bait. If there was anything Christa loved, it was gossip.
    She pulled the cork from our second bottle of wine—this one a Shiraz—and beamed a grin that told me all ofmy transgressions were forgiven. “Okay, that does make it better. Shoot.”
    So I did. I told her about how I’d fought in the battle, and most important, how I’d killed the vampire Ryder, which had been one of my prime motives for joining the fight in the first place. Ryder was someone who just had to be killed. Not only had he betrayed Rand by pretending to be on our side, but he’d also kidnapped me and taken me to Bella, aka the Wicked Witch of the West. And that wasn’t his last or even his least offense—after kidnapping me, he’d fed on me, nearly draining me, and had then come even closer to raping me.
    Needless to say, when I delivered the fatal blow and Ryder morphed into ashes at my feet, relief became my constant companion. That is, until all of this business of being appointed Queen was thrust upon me.
    “Wow,” Christa said, shaking her head in wonderment before her smile vanished and was replaced by a curious expression. “But I thought your magic was useless against vampires?”
    I nodded. “It is, but …” I wasn’t sure how to tell her the next part because it was top secret and, therefore, taboo. After another few seconds of wondering how to phrase it while watching Christa start to fidget, I finally blurted out: “I drank Sinjin’s blood.”
    Drinking the blood of a master vampire, such as Sinjin Sinclair’s, had enabled me to even the odds when I battled Ryder. Without Sinjin’s blood, I would have been defenseless