Smoke on the Water by Lori Handeland Page A

Doctor?”
    â€œWhy wouldn’t I be all right?” He urged me forward with light pressure. I didn’t move.
    There was something about Zoe right now that disturbed me. Not only didn’t I want to get any closer to her, but I really, really didn’t want her any closer to him. Maybe I should have looked into the water. There was a reason it had been there, and maybe this was it.
    â€œDeux said the two of you came out here, but you didn’t come back. I got worried so I decided to check.” She shot me a glance; her fury seemed magnified by the thick lenses of her glasses. “Then you weren’t here.”
    â€œWe were here,” he said. “We were admiring the birdbath.”
    â€œWhat’s in your hair?”
    I glanced over my shoulder. Dr. Frasier had leaves in his hair.
    â€œHuh,” I said, and he cast me a quizzical glance.
    I reached up and pulled one out. Long and thin, I knew a willow leaf when I saw one.
    â€œHuh,” he agreed.
    We both peered back the way we’d been.
    There wasn’t a willow tree in the bunch.
    Logically I knew that the leaves had blown over the wall and stuck in Dr. Frasier’s hair. It was a coincidence that the leaves were those of a black willow. Though I was starting to wonder how many coincidences there really were in life. Especially in my life.
    â€œBlack widow,” Zoe muttered as she picked up the coffee cups and emptied the dregs into the grass.
    â€œWillow,” I said.
    She snorted. I was going to have to keep my eye on her. She didn’t like me. I was pretty sure I knew why.
    I glanced at Dr. Frasier and he smiled. I didn’t smile back and his faltered.
    We were meant for each other. I knew that too. But Zoe could make life difficult for me, and from the expression on her face she planned to.
    â€œI’ll walk you to your room,” he said.
    â€œI’ll do it.” That was Zoe.
    â€œI know where it is.” I went to the door. Then I had to wait for one of them to unlock it.
    Luckily Dr. Frasier was closer, and he got there first. I had a feeling Zoe would have stepped on my foot, elbowed me in the ribs, or perhaps opened the door into my face. Childish behavior, but it had happened before.
    Not with her. Not yet. But it would. I didn’t even need to look into the water to know that.
    â€œWhen Mary wakes up I’ll come and get you.” He held the door for me as if we were on a date. Or at least I thought it was like that. The number of dates I’d had matched the times I’d been kissed.
    Zero.
    â€œI can get her,” Zoe said.
    Dr. Frasier didn’t even glance her way when he answered. “Your shift will be over by then.”
    â€œSo will yours.”
    He ignored her. “You’ve been up all night, Willow. Get some sleep.”
    â€œYou too.”
    I reached for the door as he retreated, and our hands brushed. Our eyes met. Time seemed to stand still.
    I’d sleep so much better when I slept with him.
    Memories of things that hadn’t happened yet tumbled through my mind. My face flooded with heat, and I fled.
    Before I went back to my room, I detoured to the library. I wanted to see if Mary’s Venatores Mali actually existed. Not that she couldn’t have Googled them same as I planned to, but it wouldn’t hurt to know what was truth and what was not. And if she’d totally invented them, I should probably know that too.
    According to Wikipedia, which wasn’t always accurate but didn’t make a habit of inventing witch-hunting societies from the seventeenth century, the Venatores Mali were secretly commissioned by King James. The one with his name on a Bible. He’d also written a book on witchcraft.
    You’d think the two were mutually exclusive. But not when your name began with King and ended in a Roman numeral. James had two of the latter, being King James VI of Scotland and I of England. That many numerals would give