I start to giggle as I picture Rogan finding Elon like that, but then immediately slam my mouth shut. Nope. I’ve been ridiculed enough for one day; I don’t care what happens, I’m going to keep my head on my shoulders.
I almost release a sigh of relief when we get to the door and Rogan opens it and invites himself in, but right now I’m too afraid to breathe, so I just push in after him and pull in a large inhale as soon as the door is shut.
“Ro! How are you?” a kind voice sing-songs in greeting, and before I can track where the voice is coming from, Rogan is wrapped up in a big hug from a small Asian man.
“I’m good, Dave, how are you?” Rogan volleys as he man-pats the gentleman on the back a few times before pulling away.
“I should be offended by that lie, Ro, but since Alora called all of us in today, I know you’re here for something serious, so I’ll let it pass.”
Rogan’s smile drops, and it’s as though I see some of the stress and worry melt away with it. It’s as if he just dropped a mask, and I can see how relieved he is not to have to hold it up anymore.
I’m not sure what to think about that. Part of me is glad that he’s in a place so comfortable that he can be authentic in whatever he’s feeling. But another part wonders if he’s had his mask on or off for me. Uncertainty trickles into my mind, and I know it will have me examining our interactions in search of answers.
“I think the answer is a little of both, dear,” Dave declares as he extends a hand in greeting. “Hi there, I’m Dave, Alora’s husband,” he announces.
I take his hand, not sure if he was answering the thoughts in my head, or some question Rogan asked that I missed because I was wrapped up in the thoughts in my head.
“Hi, I’m Lennox,” I answer, trying and failing not to eye him suspiciously.
“Did you just read my mind?” I ask, only in my head, but Dave doesn’t respond. There is something cheeky about his smile though that makes me wonder.
“Come with me, you two. Alora will be excited. She wasn’t expecting to meet the new Osseous Osteomancer so soon.”
Dave moves quickly down the hall, leading us into the main part of the house. My mind is reeling with questions, and I have a hard time tracking where we’re going. If Alora didn’t know I was coming, how does Dave know who I am? And why didn’t Rogan tell anyone that I would be with him? I know he said his aunt wasn’t big on the details, but does no one know why we’re here and that we’re hoping to undo a tether?
Dave winds us around the house, which strangely seems much bigger inside than it did outside. Eventually we reach a large wooden door, and Dave proceeds to knock on it three times and then wait. When two resounding knocks answer from the other side, the door opens, seemingly of its own accord, and Rogan and I are ushered in.
I step into the room and freeze. It’s sensory overload in all the best ways, and I’m not sure where to rest my eyes first. The walls are the same gray stone as the outside of the house, but the floors and ceiling are a pure black wood. Constellations and planets are delicately painted on every surface with gorgeous gold leaf. The front of the room is framed by large gothic-style windows, and just in front of the wall of natural light sits an exquisite gold crescent table. I count six witches sitting on the convex side of the gilded crescent, seven when Dave walks over and sits to the left of the woman sitting regally in the center.
“Alora.” Rogan nods in greeting, and the woman Dave just sat next to brightens with excitement and nods affectionately back.
My mouth almost drops to the floor as I take her in. I was expecting long gray and white hair, loose flowy clothing, and lined tanned skin from tending to the garden. But what I find couldn’t be further from that.
Alora is what Dita Von Teese will look like when she’s eighty. Alabaster skin, almost the color of cream, with just the faintest signs of age brushing over her features. She has dark gray eyes and black hair that’s side swept and styled with finger waves that remind me of old Hollywood. She’s dressed in a champagne-colored cashmere sweater that looks baby bunny soft, and I realize that I’ve been staring at her for too long now, and I’m pretty sure she said something to me.
Crap.
I look to Rogan, hoping he’ll help me recover, but he’s just staring at me too. Panic claws its way up my throat, and I can feel myself reddening with each passing second.
“I’m sorry,” I start sheepishly. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so beautiful. I was momentarily caught up in it, and I missed either your hello or whatever question you might have asked me,” I confess.
The seven witches all start to laugh, and a stunning blonde woman to Alora’s right reaches out and takes her hand. “I felt the same way the first time I saw her,” she confides with a kind smile and a squeeze of Rogan’s aunt’s hand. Then Alora looks over at the blonde woman, her gray eyes filled with love and affection, and she squeezes right back.
I’m getting a definite vibe from the two of them, and I sneak a look at Dave, who said he was Alora’s husband, to see what he thinks of the display.
Surprisingly, he’s looking at his wife with such pure adoration that it makes my heart ache a little with envy. Dave’s smile grows even wider, and before I can look away, his gaze flits to mine and he gives me a quick wink.
Shock trickles through me, and I once again question whether this man can read what’s in my head like it’s his favorite book. When Alora looks like she’s about to say something, my attention immediately snaps back to her. There’s no way I’m missing whatever it is she’s saying again.
“I was just welcoming you, Lennox. We’re honored to have you in our home.”
I smile, willing the blush that’s settling in my cheeks to calm the fuck down. “Thank you. I’m honored to meet all of you and grateful for any help you can offer,” I declare, feeling proud when my voice doesn’t wobble with nerves.
“Have a seat,” Alora commands, and with a snap, two chairs rise up out of the wood of the floor directly behind us.
As soon as they stop growing in size, Rogan sits in one. I plop my gobsmacked ass in the other, painfully aware of just how out of my league I am when it comes to this crew of magic users.
The coven quickly introduces themselves, but the only names my mind can seem to hold onto are Dave, Alora, and Harmony, the overly-affectionate blonde woman to Alora’s right.
“How can I help you, nephew?” Alora asks when the introductions are over and everyone settles into their curiosity.
Rogan clears his throat, and I don’t miss the blush that crawls into his cheeks as he looks from Alora to the other coven members and declares, “We need information about tethering and how to sever it.”
I’m surprised when no one in the room gasps or shows any outward signs of surprise. So far, anytime anyone hears the term, they freak out, which makes the silence in the room all the more unsettling.
“And you both wish to sever that which you bound?” Harmony asks.
Rogan and I both quickly answer yes in unison, and she nods.
“It is not an easy thing to do or a pain-free process. We can facilitate it, but the success depends on many factors,” she tells us matter-of-factly.
“Like what?” I ask, not liking the sound of that.