If the Broom Fits by Liz Schulte Page B

trespassing.” A woman with long straight dark brown hair and almond shaped eyes glared at me as I rounded the corner to the back of the house.
    â€œWho are you?” I shot back with a glare of my own. “This is my property.”
    She shook her head. “That’s impossible. And I asked you first.”
    I rolled my eyes. “What are you going to do if I don’t tell you? You’re the one who is trespassing.”
    Her hand sparked with magical green light and she smiled without humor. “Well, it’s not going to involve calling the police. Now I repeat, why have you come to the winter witch’s home? What do you seek? Anyone who takes anything from inside will be cursed and death will come quickly after.”
    â€œThe winter witch? Do you mean Winter Darkmore?”
    Her eyes widened. “You dare speak her name. Insolence!”
    I took off my glove one finger at a time and held it out to her. “Well, curses are something I know a little bit about. Frost Darkmore.” Speaking my last name made my chest squeeze, but I powered through it. No one was going to intimidate me. Not today, not ever.
    The woman moved to shake my hand, but I pulled back and put my glove back on. “Get out of here. This place definitely isn’t for tourists.” This woman knew nothing about magic. The green light was probably little more than a trick meant to scare regular people. “I think you should get off my land before I actually do let you touch me.”
    â€œThe coven will hear about this,” she said, like that was a threat. If they were half as dumb as her, then I was safe.
    â€œI look forward to it,” I said. “Leave.” I waved my hand in a shooing manner.
    â€œI’ll be back,” she said, trudging through the snow into what looked like a field behind the house.
    â€œI’ll be here,” I said.
    I glanced at the snow along the rear of the house. One area appeared to be raised from the rest. Either there was something under it or that drift was higher than everything else. I went over and pushed the snow away until I came to a padlocked wooden cellar door. The skeleton key didn’t fit into it.
    â€œCould you use assistance?” Orion asked, standing so close I could feel his body heat.
    â€œA key?” I shivered beneath my layers. “Less wind would be great too.”
    â€œAlas, I gave you the only key I have.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and heat poured from him into me. My knees threatened to give way. “And the wind is out of my control.”
    â€œWhy do I not believe you? Oh, that’s right. I’ve seen you manipulate it.”
    â€œOr perhaps you refuse to see that what is in your best interest might also be in someone else’s best interest not to give you immediately. We always appreciate the things we earn more than those that are given to us. Don’t you think?”
    â€œI wouldn’t know. Nothing is given to me. And no one is ever concerned about what’s in my best interest.” Sure there had been one or two exceptions, but as a general rule it was true.
    Orion nodded then looked down at his hand. “Will you look at that? A table for the pity party of one just opened up.”
    I leaned into him, still enjoying the warmth despite the mockery. “You are the worst spirit guide to ever walk the face of the earth.”
    â€œThat may be true. I did lose track of you when you were small. It took me a long time to relocate you again, but when I did, I always kept an interested eye turned in your direction. I know more about you than you have allowed most to see.”
    My spine stiffened and I pulled away from him. “But it didn’t occur to you to help me out a little?” I wasn’t going to be won over with something as simple as a little warmth.
    He shook his head. “You weren’t ready yet.”
    â€œWhat does that even mean? When did you lose