Free Roses & Rye (Toil & Trouble Book 3) by Heather R. Blair Page A

Nutty old bat hasn’t changed a bit.
    My room is dark and cold. I wrinkle my nose at the dust on my dresser. I was hardly what you’d call a neat freak, but these layers have layers. Ana could at least air it out in here once in awhile.
    Speaking of my oldest sister, her voice suddenly rises stridently, startling me away from all the memories that lurk in this room.
    “You were really expecting me to let him in this house and not try to kill the bastard?”
    At the word ‘bastard,’ it’s pretty safe to say Jack has arrived.

7
     
    I float as quickly as I can through the walls and the floor, the ghost equivalent of power walking, and land in the midst of the parlor and several tense bodies. Styx and Carly are on the loveseat, neither moving, her hand tightly clasped in his. Ana stands at the entryway of the elegant blue and white room, commanding my immediate attention, the hardwood floors gleaming under her feet as she glares down the hallway. Jack is standing on the step, unable to proceed any farther, a pace behind Stephen, who raises an eyebrow.
    “Why can’t he come in? We used the fang on him again just a few minutes ago.”
    Ana is itching to blast Jack. Her magic is already slipping around him like a fine wire mesh, glowing red. Being dead hasn’t deprived me of my ability to see magic, only to use it.
    “She made the spell a little more personal than that. Didn’t she, Frost?”
    His face is pale, but that arrogant smirk twists his lips, twisting my heart. “You’d know better than I, Ana.”
    She steps forward, but just then Tyr moves past Jack and the bruin and into the house as if he belongs here. I frown and swipe at the back of his head as he passes.
    “Let’s all just sit down and have a bit of a chat, shall we, love?” To my surprise, instead of pissing her off more, the assassin’s words seem to have a calming effect on Ana. Her eyes flicker to his, then away. She lifts a hand. Instantly, the wards against Jack loosen and fall, splashing to the ground in a torrent of silver sparks only visible to witches’ eyes.
    What? Since when is Ana a good enough witch to undo Mom’s magic? I mean, don’t get me wrong, my oldest sister has depths of power that’d make even Jett think twice, but there’s a difference between that and being on par with Mom . Unless Mom gave her the key to the spell.
    By the time I can focus again, Ana is in her favorite chair, gathering her skirts with all the haughty grace of a queen, as the men enter the parlor. Tyr sits across from her, apparently at his ease, but Jack and Stephen remain standing. Dominic comes in with Thomas in tow. Ana frowns before looking back at the bruin.
    “You expect me to comply with this trial farce? Why not just kill him now? He’s helpless.”
    Stephen folds his arms, frowning. “He entrusted himself to me, Ana. You breech that and you and I are going to have a problem.” His voice softens slightly. “Besides, you know as well as I do the outcome is likely to be the same.”
    “Likely to be? What other choice is there?” Ana snorts as a knock comes at the door. Carly gets up to answer it, though Styx looks reluctant to let her go. His eerie eyes trail from my sister to lock on Jack’s face as if he’s trying to work something out. Jack shakes his head minutely and Styx leans back in the chair, frowning.
    “I don’t know,” Stephen says slowly. “But I am curious why he took this chance. Putting both him and Thomas in danger.” My sister’s gaze flicks to my old teacher, the man she has been caring for the past three months. Thomas raises his chin to meet her scrutiny, his scars pulled taut as Stephen continues, “It seems suicidal.”
    Ana’s smile is so cold I blink. “Oh, it is. All I have to do is raise Mother’s wards again and he’s trapped here. Forever.”
    Stephen looks startled but Jack only smiles. “Possibly, Anastasia. But I knew the risk. So ask yourself, like Stephen did, why would I deliver myself into