Looking for a way to distract myself, I flipped through my notebook, double checking that I still knew how to accurately draw a few of the runes I hadn’t used yet.
The ‘moon’ stave was
supposed to prevent hauntings. It was one of several staves that offered
protection from the supernatural, and I hadn’t used this particular one yet.
Partially because it was supposed to be drawn on a fox pelt with blood from my
ring finger, and I wasn’t especially keen to do either of those things, but I
wanted to be able to draw any of the staves from memory, in case I ever needed them.
I was still practicing when Kit came home.
“Finally using one of my adult coloring
books?” he asked, setting his bag down and giving my forehead a kiss. “It’s
relaxing, isn’t it?”
I held up a finger, indicating I needed a
minute. I had to concentrate while I finished the rune; the notebook hadn’t
said anything about it, but leaving a rune unfinished felt dangerous to me.
Drawing the last few lines, I looked up at him. “Working on my staves, sorry.
Though it is kind of relaxing.”
Kit made a face. “Kind of creepy, more
like.”
“How is it creepy?” I asked.
He wrapped his arms around himself and made
a shivery noise. “You know, ghosts and stuff.”
I raised an eyebrow at him.
He laughed, giving me a playful nudge with
his elbow. “Oh, shut up. No one likes a smartass. I’m making goulash for
dinner; does that sound okay?”
“Better than being a dumbass, I guess. Goulash
sounds amazing.” His food was always amazing, and I felt especially blessed that
he made it for me, because he couldn’t eat more than a mouthful or two. “How
did I get so lucky?”
Taking groceries out of his bag, Kit
grinned at me. “You ask me that all the time, and my answer’s always the same.
I guess we were just...meant to be.”
I got up and squeezed his hand. “I’m glad
you feel that way.” I just wished he hadn’t had to die in order for us to be
together.
“What, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. Don’t mind me; I’m just in
a funny mood.”
He put his—cool, as always—hand on my
forehead, frowning a little. “You do feel a little warm.”
“I always feel warm to you.”
He grinned. “All right, true. But I’ve
gotten pretty good at telling the difference between when you’re warm and when
you’re warm. Why don’t you go lie down for a few minutes? It’ll be a
while before dinner’s ready.”
“Yeah, I think I will. Thanks, Kit.” I gave his hand another squeeze,
then gave him a full, lingering hug, wanting to have more contact with him.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the love,
but...are you sure you’re okay? Did something happen?” He stroked a thumb down
the back of my neck, soothingly, and I leaned in to him.
“I’m fine,” I reassured him, reluctantly
leaving his arms after giving him a final kiss on his jaw. “Just tired.” I
hated lying to him, but there was no sense in both of us being frightened of
something I couldn’t even explain.
“Well, shoo. I’ll come get you when dinner’s
ready.” He gave me a gentle, playful swat on the behind before turning his
attention back to the meal preparation. He loved cooking—and baking, of course—and
it was a shame he couldn’t enjoy much of what he made himself.
I must have been more exhausted than I’d
realized; I lay down on our bed, closed my eyes, and woke to Kit telling me the
food was ready.
I dimly recalled having strange dreams, but I
couldn’t remember what they’d been about.
Learn more about the Undead Canadian Series here.
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| Day One |
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