Single Witch's Survival Guide Read Online Free PDF

wave of sultry summer heat. I knew I should clutch at the tattered strands of my powers. I should brace myself against this new threat. I had to react, had to work some spell.
    But somehow my subconscious brain managed to process the actual scene before me.
    Spot was leaping from his bed, his entire body wagging in joyous greeting. David was looking relieved at my side. Our six guests were caught in various stages of astonishment, shock, and disbelief.
    Silhouetted against the moonlit night was a dressmaker’s dummy, clad in pantaloons and a fur-lined robe, with padded shoulders and a fake breastplate large enough to fill the entire door. Henry VIII, my mind stuttered. King of England, Ireland, and France. I’d recognize the clothes from the Holbein portrait anywhere.
    Clutching the costume, needle and thread ostentatiously in hand, was a shadowy figure. Anne Boleyn, if I had to guess. Almond eyes. Hair slicked back beneath a lace headdress. A floor-length crimson dress, cut absurdly low and showing way too much flesh for historical realism. Way too much waxed flesh. Way too much waxed, male flesh, belonging to none other than Neko.
    My familiar looked up, took in the astonished audience in the kitchen, and promptly belted out, “’E’s ’Enery the Eighth, ’e is”, in the worst parody of a cockney accent I’d ever heard. As we all gaped, Neko sashayed across the kitchen to drop into a curtsey before me. He took my hand with the same laughable formality, pretending to kiss some royal ring.
    As our flesh met, Neko shoved a burst of mental energy into me. The power felt like an electric shock, brilliant and searing and pure. I stood a little straighter and breathed a little deeper before I said, “You seem to have forgotten someone.”
    Neko shrugged. “Jacques was in the other room when David called.”
    So David has issued the astral summons that had carried my familiar across the miles. My familiar’s boyfriend was probably standing in the middle of their D.C. apartment at this very moment, blinking and wondering where Neko had gone. I attempted to sound nonchalant as I said, “Nice costumes.”
    Neko flushed with pleasure. “The fur’s a bit much for summer, but Jacques insisted. I think buttons make a much better decoration this time of year. Don’t you agree?” He took my fingers and forced them to the row of pearls that framed his chest.
    Another blast of astral energy cascaded through my palm, up my arm, throughout my body. I could have soaked it up for hours, but Neko pulled back in poorly-acted surprise. “Oh! I didn’t know you were entertaining !” Then he whispered in a voce that wasn’t anywhere near as sotto as he apparently believed. “Jane! I thought we’d talked about ‘summer casual.’” He glared at my shorts and T-shirt. “And that hair! Girlfriend, what were you thinking?”
    Self-consciously, my fingers flew toward my unruly curls. Neko reached out at the same time, encircling my wrist and pouring a third burst of magical energy into me. Finally, my own power kickstarted, leaping steady and bright inside my chest. With the ease of long practice, Neko reflected that energy back at me as if he were made of a million mirrors.
    “Thanks,” I breathed.
    “Don’t mention it,” he said.
    David finally seemed to realize this would be the perfect time to distract our company. He barked out a few commands, barely disguising them as invitations. “There are two leaves for the dining room table in the hall closet. Grab those chairs from the kitchen table. No, let’s move the dining room chairs back so there’s enough room.”
    Who would have thought it would take three warders, two witches, and two familiars to prepare for an impromptu dinner party? David played his role well, though. No one even thought to watch as Neko kept his fingers wrapped around my wrist for another minute, monitoring my steadiness, calculating my returning strength. Only when he was completely satisfied that