Romance Rules for Werewolves (Charming Cove, #3)

Be quick, Poa said. I can’t take much more of this. And if you expect me to live here, you have your work cut out for you.

“Can’t argue with that.” I resisted a grimace as I entered the main room and set the crystals on the ground at equal intervals along the walls. They hummed with power in my hands, and I was glad Holly had such excellent conduits to loan me. Once they were in place, I went to the middle of the rough circle they created. I sat cross-legged on the ground, and Poa climbed into my lap. Her warm body was a comforting weight on my legs, and I looked down at her, pleased.

She glared. What? I might as well be comfortable.

“I wasn’t complaining. I like having you there!”

Well, don’t get all marshmallowy with feelings, all right? I’m not that kind of cat.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Let’s get this show on the road. I’m to meet Penelope for lunch.

“On it.” I drew in a deep breath and pressed my hands to the ground in front of us. I wanted to make a connection with the house, if that’s what my power was actually connecting me to.

Poa began to purr as I let my power fill me. Slowly, I recited the words I’d memorized. They were in Latin, and I wasn’t great with Latin, but I could feel that they were working. Magic thrummed through me, growing in strength.

As it did, I could feel the house like it was a limb. Instinct made me lie down on the dirty floor to increase my physical connection to it. Poa gave an annoyed hiss but resettled herself on my chest, a heavy, purring weight whose magic enhanced my own.

As I continued to chant the words, I felt the connection with the house strengthen…and then a distinct sense of discomfort swirled through me. There was also the grumpiness that I’d been noticing since I’d entered, but now I had an idea of why.

The house didn’t like the condition it was in.

The fact that the house had any opinion at all was strange. It should be an inanimate object, with the strange goings-on attributed to a curse or a ghost, but the house was alive in its own way. There was an enchantment woven through its walls that was far older than I was. I could barely sense it, but I was sure it wasn’t evil, like a curse would be. The enchantment wasn’t meant to cause problems, I was sure of that. It was more like it had given the house personality. If I tried harder, I could probably get a good grip on what it was and how to remove it.

The house seemed to shudder at the thought.

“I won’t!” I called out. “I won’t remove the enchantment, I promise.” It would be like killing the house. If the house had a personality, that meant it was alive. Kind of. It didn’t matter that it hadn’t been born—I couldn’t just tear the enchantment away and kill it.

I was going to have to find a way to live with it.

“Can you tell me how this happened to you?” I asked. “I want to make you feel better.”

The house was silent, and I realized it was too much to ask it to speak. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t speak to it and try to get its cooperation. “I can tell that you’re alive,” I said. “Sort of. And that you’re uncomfortable. You probably don’t like being in such a state of disrepair, is that it?”

No response.

“Anyway, I’m going to fix you up. Then you’ll feel better.”

As if it wanted to disagree, the house popped a floorboard beneath my butt.

“Ouch!” I cried as it smacked me.

Poa was dislodged, and she tumbled off, then stalked toward the door, hissing at the house as she went. The house seemed to hiss back, popping a floorboard under the carpet she walked on. It jostled her to the right.

“You’re both going to have to learn to get along.”

The house groaned, and Poa hissed again.

“Whatever.” I threw my hands over my head and closed my eyes. “I can do this.”

I climbed to my feet, determined to get started on cleaning up the house. I’d got answers today, though not as many as I wanted. I still didn’t know how the house had come to be alive, and I hadn’t actually convinced it to chill out on me. Until its attitude improved, I wouldn’t be able to get contractors up here.

Which meant I was on my own.

“I’m going to work on this carpet, okay?” I told the house. “If we get this up, your floorboards will be able to breathe. Then we can discuss some refinishing options. You might like a nice coat of varnish.”

The house didn’t respond, and I felt crazy for talking to it. But it couldn’t hurt, right? All living things wanted to be in control of their destiny, but a house would have a hard time doing that. Whoever had enchanted the place hadn’t thought of that, perhaps, and it was the main reason the place was in such a bad mood: no control over its destiny, and then it had fallen into a state of disrepair.

Well, I was going to fix that.

I spent a sweaty afternoon pulling up the carpet using some more tools I found in the shed. Fortunately, I’d read a spell the other day that helped me increase my strength and speed, so it went more quickly than it would have otherwise.

I still had a long way to go, but at least I managed to get all the gross carpet out of the house and into the back garden. Disposing of it would be another matter, but I’d cross that bridge later. I covered the carpet with a couple of old tarps I found to keep it from becoming waterlogged in any potential rain, then returned to the house to inspect the floors. They were beautiful, wide beams that needed some refinishing, but they would be gorgeous when I was done.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” I asked the house.

It didn’t give me any indication that it was happy with the change, but the floorboards had stopped popping up. The place still stank, and a door slammed in my face even though there was no breeze, but I decided to call it a win.

By the time late afternoon rolled around, I was exhausted and still needed to coordinate someone to pick up the discarded carpet. I also needed a break from the house and its slamming doors.

I left through the front door. For the first time since I’d been there, I spotted a woman outside of the little cottage on the hillside to the east. She was too far away for me to see details of her features, but her white hair and posture suggested that she was older. Perhaps she would know how the house had come to be enchanted. If she’d lived here a long time, it was possible.

Instead of heading down to the boathouse, I cut across the hillside toward her. Poa joined me, coming out from a hiding spot beneath a log. It took me a while to get to the cottage due to the uneven terrain, but I made it before the woman had retreated indoors.

Up close, she looked to be in her late seventies. She tended to a garden of autumn flowers that bloomed in a gorgeous profusion of yellows, oranges, and reds. The cottage behind her was a tiny postcard-perfect stone building with smoke wafting from the chimney.

“Hello!” I called out, hoping I didn’t startle her.

She looked up, then smiled. “Hello, there. Are you the new girl?”

“The new girl?” I smiled. “I guess I am.”