Witching Tree (Alice Gray Book 1)

26

"Ok guys. I need to go back to the priory and find out what Emily knows about all this."

I broke the deadlock the only way I could think without resorting to my former methods. By ignoring it.

Thomas was going to have to control that temper of his, because there was no way we were getting physical again.

Ever.

Next time I was letting Anne zap him to sleep, and we'd be leaving him where he fell.

Anne turned her back to Thomas, and fixed me with a frown, "Vamps are not welcome in this house."

"Look, I want him out as much as you," I reassured her, "but the only way that's gonna happen without a fight is if we all go together."

"Fine. But this isn't how I wanted to spend my day off."

"Me either. Look Anne, I really appreciate your support. It's not easy for me to go back and face those two, and it's nice to have someone in my corner for a change."

"We could just stay here, have a duvet day?" Anne asked, a sparkle of hope in her eyes.

"However much I want to do that, we can't. After everything we've talked about, don't you want to know what Emily and Stephen know about the family? Don't you want to know what they're after?"

Anne sighed, resignation heavy on her sagging shoulders as she disappeared through the door to the downstairs bedrooms.

I lingered, facing the open door, wishing that I could take the escape route too, but knowing that I had to speak.

A prickle of hot desire agitated my skin when Thomas took my hand, closing the question of avoidance once and for all. Ignoring the torrent of lust that flooded my body, I turned slowly, smoothing out my face to hide the storm raging within.

"Alice, talk to me, please."

His face had lost the arrogance, and in it I could see something that looked like sincerity.

I couldn't accept it.

The way this man claimed to feel about me made no sense, and even though my body screamed for his contact, my mind told me that it wasn't real.

Plus, his attitude sucked.

"Thomas, whatever this is, you have to give me space, ok?"

When he didn't answer, I pulled my hand from his. As I turned away, I caught a flash of utter despair that sent a wave of sadness through me despite my resolve.

Flying down the stairs, before I changed my mind and did something stupid, like comfort him, I dug my heels in on the second-to-last step, almost somersaulting over Anne. The fact that she didn't trust the two of us together hurt more than it should have considering my behaviour in her kitchen only ten minutes ago.

Anne's sour expression contrasted comically with her white pyjamas, dotted with pink bunny rabbits. She looked at me, and her scowl softened. "I know you like him, but we've got to get rid of that guy. He's dangerous for people like us."

The sympathy in her voice rankled inside me. Now she thought I was a naïve fool, like the others.

"Don't worry, nothing's going to happen between us."

Anne glanced at me in confusion at the sharpness in my voice. Her eyebrows were drawn together, lips compressed into a thin line. "I think that ship has sailed."

"What do you mean? We've kissed twice. That's it. And it's not going to happen again, ok?"

"Whatever you say, cousin," she looked at me for a moment, then shrugged and went into her bedroom to get ready.

Watching her go, I had to swallow my need to shout after her, to make her understand that nothing was going to happen with Thomas. That I was done with him.

She wouldn't believe me, and the more I protested, the more desperate I'd look. I really couldn't blame her. I'd told her all about my history with Stephen, and who was going to take me seriously after that. Especially when it came to good-looking men.

Sitting on the bed, my gaze travelled to the rocking chair in the corner of the room. It was still now. The pain where the pregnant girl had marked my head was gone. The emptiness of the room added to my own sense of desolation.

Cold and hollow after the intense desire that I'd shared with Thomas, I longed for some sign that I wasn't alone. Wishing that the house would bring back the imprint of my mother, I searched inside myself for anything that could fill the space.

A sweet chime sounded as my foot brushed against the carpetbag that I'd discarded on the floor. Pulling the silver tree out, the sensation of dread fell over me like a familiar blanket. Not pleasant, but comforting, and that was enough.

Hey, thanks for reading. What do you think of Thomas? Is he genuine?
Read on to find out!
⭐️ if you like it.