NaNoWriMo Day 19, Soup’s Off

soup's off cover

 

I am steadfastly plodding along. 🙂

You know the DISCLAIMER drill by now.

Total word count: 30,068

Behind by more than 2 words…many, many more.

You can read previous sections here.

 


He leans back slightly, his aquamarine eyes meet mine, while his finger caresses a path down my neck. I shiver. My body jolts with awareness and despite my brain saying, “what the hell,” I arch my neck, and his lips follow the trail his fingers took.

Suddenly I’m filled with such an indescribable need that my fingers thread through his soft blond hair to hold his lips against my neck. His hands move behind me to pull me closer to him, hoisting me slightly with his palms cupping my butt. My brain stops. I am no longer thinking, just feeling, and needing. Our lips find each other and it’s as if fireworks display in my mind, billions of colors bursting, as the kiss deepens, and I find myself trying to crawl up his body to be closer.

The backdoor slams, a pan clatters, and I pull back slowly to look at him with glazed eyes. His eyes are the same, heavy lidded, filled with desire. My thumb moves over the lips I just kissed. His kisses my thumb.

“I don’t understand,” he says so softly that I’m unsure as to whether I’ve heard him correctly. His fingers move to my cheek bone while his eyes search mine. “This shouldn’t be. I cannot fall for evil. Have you bewitched me?”

We jump apart at the sound of a throat being cleared behind us, and I turn to see Mom with her eyebrow arched and arms crossed, booted foot tapping the linoleum. Behind her Nikki and Rose are gaping. And, Moira snorts, because I’ve lived down to her expectations.

“You’re making out with the witch slayer you tossed across the parking lot last night?” Mom asks moving toward us while glancing from him to me. “You want to explain to me what’s going on? If you can.”

I glance at Anton again. He’s still looking at me, baffled. I shake my head. I don’t know what’s going on. I felt like a magnet drew me to him, something so much stronger than my will, something over which I had no control. Whether he admits it or not, I know he felt the same.

I step backwards, bang into the counter, and as I move away from him, the physical pull lessens. The frown on his forehead disappears. He feels it too. The farther apart we are, the less the need. How strange, from almost boning to deboning, instantly.

“I’ve got to get back to work,” I say, almost running to the kitchen, throwing him a glance over my shoulder.

“We still must talk,” Anton says, but there’s less conviction in his voice. The interaction, the attraction, was as upsetting to him as it was to me.

“I know who you are, witch slayer. You’re to stay away from my daughters,” Mom says.

I don’t hear his answer as I inspect my soups, adjusting temperatures with a flick of a knob only to return them to what they were before. My hand is shaking. I lift my gaze as he strides through the kitchen and through the backdoor as if he can’t get away quickly enough and with only the slightest glance at me. Yes, there will be a conversation once I make sense of what just happened. If I can make sense of what just happened.

Mom enters the kitchen, with a determined walk and has that look in her eye: the dog with a bone. There’s a severity that I seldom see, and it’s usually not directed at me, but at Isla. Speaking of Isla, she’s late today.

“Where’s Isla?” I ask, accepting that it’s a feeble attempt to redirect Mom’s attention.

“Nope. You are not going to distract me,” Mom says, leaning on the prep counter while staring at me incredulously. “You were just smooching with a witch slayer. What’s got into you? Last night you were scared and found your powers and threw him across a parking lot and today you’re practically jumping each other in your restaurant dining room where everyone in town could see. Have you lost your freaking mind?”

I wince. “Maybe?”

While stirring the split pea soup with carrots and fresh tarragon, I try to sift through the mangled thoughts in my brain. I shrug. “It was weird. The instant he touched me today. I don’t know. I wanted him. I never wanted to let him go. I was compelled.”

“Compelled?” Mom stamps her foot. “Are you two playing games with each other?”

I don’t know what kind of games she thinks we could be playing. “Definitely not. I could see that he was confused by what happened. It wasn’t just me.”

“The Light Union,” Moira says.

“The what now?” I ask. “The Light Union? What does that mean?”

Mom sighs. “Is that what the dog said? The Light Union? It can’t be. In fact, I won’t have it.”

“Great. Could you please tell me what this thing is and why it’s bad?”

“It’s not bad. It’s actually a good thing,” Mom says.

“It’s supposed to be the most wonderful thing,” Moira says.

“Okay. But what is it?” I ask again.

“The coming together of a witch slayer and a white witch. If the attraction is there, it’s the forming of a most powerful alliance. It’s probably just a rumor. I hope it’s a rumor,” Mom says.

Moira nods her muzzle. “That’s why he’s throwing mixed signals. He’s confused.”

“That particular club is growing in numbers,” is all I can think of to say.


end of Day 19

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