She looked about thirty, with long flowing chestnut waves and a face full of soft features. Except her eyes. They looked sharp and perceptive, and full of mischief. She wore a pair of denim dungarees, sandals and an oversized cardigan.
“She looks like you,” Byron said softly.
“You can see her?” I gasped.
He nodded, his eyes watching Adela closely.
“Wow,” Adela said as her gaze flicked between the two of us. “You must be soul bound.”
Excuse me, what now? “Soul bound?”
“It’s the witch version of soul mates. Interesting that you would be a matching pair,” Adela said, tucking her hands into the large pockets on her cardigan.
I huffed a nervous laugh at that. “Maybe we should have a coffee and put some clothes on. This feels like a conversation better suited to somewhere other than the bathroom.”
A matching pair. Wasn’t that ironic? Byron was already part of a matching pair and here he was, my perfect match. My soul bound. No wonder the tether was so easy to maintain. It was instinctual, woven into our very souls. Magic with Byron was going to be as natural as breathing. I settled further onto his lap, my hands idly holding my coffee.
“So how can I see you when I’ve never been able to see a spirit before?” I asked Adela. I was still amazed that I could see her. She didn’t look like a ghost and she wasn’t translucent. More like opaque. I couldn’t see through her, but there was a shimmer like stardust whenever she caught the light.
She shrugged, her thick cardigan slipping off her shoulders with the motion. “No idea really. It could be because whatever is suppressing your magic is starting to wear off, or because connections to spirits who are related to you are always stronger. Maybe it’s a combination of the two.”
Did that mean…? “Are you my mother?”
She nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to meet you when I was alive.”
“I am sorry, too. For what my father did.”
“You are not responsible for that man’s actions,” she said vehemently, her purple eyes sparking with fury. “That man is a monster, and I hope he rots in hell.”
“Don’t worry,” Byron added coldly. “He’s not going to escape from me when I get my hands on him.”
“Good,” she said with a firm nod of her head. She was so angry and full of pain. She’d suffered at his hands, and I couldn’t blame her for wanting him dead.
“How did you stay hidden for so long? I thought there wasn’t a Shadow Witch alive for centuries?” Byron asked her, his breath tickling the back of my ear.
“I’m older than I look and my coven were proud to have a Shadow Witch in their numbers. They helped me stay off the radar of others who would harm me. The Hawthornes are good people,” she said, a wistful smile warming her face.
“Why are Shadow Witches so sought after?” I asked.
She pulled back, looking a little dazed. “You really don’t know much, do you?”
I shrugged. “I was brought up with green witches and healers and a father who spent my childhood siphoning my power. I didn’t get a lot of time to do much research on anything at all, let alone Shadow Witches.”
“That rat fucking bastard,” she spat. “What a prick. He forced you to crossover just to steal your power?”
I nodded, the memories of it stirring in the back of my mind.
“Okay, okay,” she muttered, throwing her hands out as if to steady herself. “Look, in a nutshell the power of a Shadow Witch is the ability to walk alongside Death. Most people interpret that incorrectly. You can’t bring someone back to life who has already crossed over, but you can cross over into the spirit world to commune with the dead and even Death himself. He’s a bit of an asshole so I wouldn’t recommend talking to him unless youabsolutely have to. You’ll also be attuned to ghosts and anything to do with Death and death magic.”
“Sounds peachy,” Byron chuckled.
“When you cross over, your soul leaves your body and heads into the spirit and your body essentially dies, but it’s held alive by your tether. They hold your magic and they maintain your life force. If they die whilst you’re in the spirit world, you will both die.” Her gaze was steady and serious as she flicked it between Byron and me.
“Got it,” I said as I cast a look over my shoulder at Byron.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m very hard to kill.” He pressed a kiss against my temple and then turned to Adela. “I will protect him with my life.”
Swoon.