“Please bake for me.” He made his eyes big and liquid. “I can’t work under these conditions.”
“Not so long ago, I recall a cranberry-orange scone incident.”
Despite the fact I had lost sleep baking them, he had eaten every single one in the box.
Clay ate nine scones while Asa and I were packing Colby and my things into the SUV the morning we left Samford. A tenth had hung from his lip when we confronted him in the kitchen. He inhaled the eleventh, an extra fluffy one, to spare us from fighting over the last one, or so he claimed.
The twelfth never made it in the box. It was the cost of doing business. I had eaten it for dinner.
“Pump the brakes.” He held up his hands. “Colby gave those to me, as a gift.”
“Mmm-hmm.” I finished the task of making cereal for Asa and me. “You didn’t share, so why should I?”
“You love me.” He fluttered his lashes. “I’m your favorite.”
“That’s only half true.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Fine.” I huffed, secretly pleased. “I’ll bake.”
Turning in the circle of Asa’s arms, I pressed a bowl into his chest, which he studied warily.
“Have you never had cereal?”
“That is sugar pressed flat, cut into squares, and sprinkled with cinnamon.”
Apparently, Clay wasn’t the only breakfast snob around here.
Too bad for Asa, I knew how to push his buttons.
“Mmm.” I stole his spoon, piled it high, and stuck it in my mouth. “Sugary.”
The way he fixated on my mouth almost caused me to choke, but I managed to swallow with dignity.
A battle warred across Asa’s face as he fought his instinct to taste my food after me.
“If you’re not interested…” I took another bite, crunching noisily, “…I’ll finish this myself.”
The next time I loaded my spoon, I teased him a heartbeat too long, and he swooped in to devour it.
“That’s cheating.” I tapped the end of his nose with the spoon then shoveled in another bite. “How rude.”
“How are you feeling?” He leaned into my space, his hips pinning mine against the counter. “Hungry?”
Now that he mentioned it, I was experiencing a rumble in my tummy. “I’m always hungry.”
Behind me, Clay snorted but didn’t say a word as I attempted to work out what I had done this time.
“You spit muffined my cereal.” I stared into the bowl while Asa smiled down at me. “That’s why it tastes better.” I took another mouthful. “No. I was wrong. It doesn’t taste better. I just want it more.”
After the bedroom door incident—ahem—cereal wasn’t the only thing I wanted more.
“Can I bring my sword?” Colby buzzed me. “I’ve always wanted to know how it feels to stab an eyeball.”
Tipping my head back, I had to wonder where I went wrong. Probably the whole black witch thing, come back to haunt me in the form of a moth who was weirdly bloodthirsty for someone whose diet subsisted of pollen granules and sugar water.
Busy swashbuckling midair, Colby didn’t notice Asa’s and my close quarters, and he eased back before she got an eyeful of this thing unfurling between us. He was considerate of her, and I liked that about him. It helped that his brain worked better around me than mine did around him.
“Leave the sword at home tonight.” I ate the rest of our shared bowl of cereal. “You need to be focused when you’re in the field. You also need to think first with your magic and not with your body’s reflexes.”
As fierce as her spirit was, magic or not, she had to learn to think like a familiar in battle.