The Hidden Legacy

from the tension that had gathered there.
The truth was, I reminded myself. He didn’t know exactly what he was seeing on that video, and for that, he should consider himself damn lucky. Because I would have defended myself, by whatever means necessary, and he wouldn’t have enjoyed the experience. Not at all.
What Mr. Walker hadn’t counted on was when you try and force a modern-day Witch to confess...they were going to do one of three things: Deflect attention and confuse their opponent, try and charm their way out of the situation, or if they had no other choice—hex the be-jesus out of their accuser.
The last thought made me flinch. I sincerely hoped it wouldn’t come to that. I saw movement outside of the agency’s front windows. The door was yanked open and a stunning woman walked in. Her hair was dyed a deep burgundy and it trailed down her shoulders in long waves. A black and red floral pattern sundress flowed around a trim figure. Amber colored eyes took in the room, and her deeply painted mouth smiled when she spotted me sitting at my desk.
She could best be described in one word: Bombshell.
“Hello Rowan.” I smiled at my cousin.
“There you are.” She went directly to me, drew me up out of my chair and pulled me in for a hug. “Heard about the big caper yesterday. I’m so glad you’re safe.”
Her scent was all campfires and smoked spice. Rowan Osborne was a Fire Witch, and she simply radiated energy, heat and sexuality. Rowan was a free spirit, Bohemian, and the wild child of the family. A talented makeup artist and hairstylist, she definitely walked to her own drum. She was, I supposed, our very own version of Ivy Bishop.
“I’m okay,” I said, hugging her back and taking comfort.
“You’re sending out some very distressed and pissed off vibes,” she whispered in my ear.
“Sorry, it’s been a tough twenty-four hours.”
“Girl, I felt you all the way across town about an hour ago,” she said, letting me out of her hug. “What was going on?”
“I had to bluff my way past the new partner here at the agency.”
“The Henry Walker guy?” My cousin arched one perfect eyebrow. “What happened?”
“He was studying the security camera footage from the spice shop, and I’m on it.”
Rowan’s expertly painted eyes widened. “Aunt Maryanne told me that you’d called on your element during the robbery, to scare one of those kids. How much did Walker see?”
“It’s not too bad, the footage isn’t at a good angle...however, he’s seen enough to start questioning.”
“Son of a bitch,” Rowan muttered, running a hand down my arm. “Are you going to have to spell him?”
“I hope not,” I said. “I’m worried though. I came very close to exposure yesterday during the robbery.”
“Fuck that.” Rowan gave my hand a bolstering squeeze. “You know damn good and well when it comes to self-defense the non-disclosure rule can be bent.”
“I know, I just didn’t expect that he would put it all together, or so quickly.” I rubbed the base of my neck were my muscles had tightened into knots.
“Where’s Edmund?” Rowan asked.
“He’s at court testifying in a case today.”
“Get your purse,” Rowan ordered. “I’m taking you out of here for a few hours.”
“I can’t leave the office in the middle of the day,” I started to argue.
“Yes, you can. Text Edmund and lock the place up.” She looked me up and down.
“Rowan—”
“By the way,” she interrupted, “I love that gray color on you. Somehow, you make that maxi dress seem pretty. On anybody else it’d appear positively Amish.”
Her rapid shift in conversation didn’t faze me. “Well I like this dress.”
“You should, it’s flowing and romantic, plus it makes your eyes even more blue.” She tapped a finger against her lips as she considered me. “You should have used that to your advantage against Mr. Walker.”
I scoffed at the idea. “I appreciate the invite to lunch, but I really shouldn’t leave.”
“Oh yes, you should.” Rowan tossed her head. “That, and I simply refuse to take no for an answer.”
“Fine, fine.” I gave in. “Let me grab my purse—shit,” I said.
“What?”
“He’s coming back in.” I blew out a frustrated breath as he walked into the agency.
“You leave him to me,” Rowan said, and when she turned around her whole stance had changed. “Well, hello,” she purred.
“Hello there,” Henry said, and flashed a very slow, masculine smile.
“Hannah and I are going out for lunch,” she said in her low voice, and I felt the temperature shift in the office. She stepped over to Henry, projecting her power out. She reached up and trailed a hand down the side of his face.
In response, Henry didn’t move a muscle.
“Jeez, Rowan.” I shook my head at her maneuver.
“Sweet dreams, handsome,” she said, and flashed a devastating smile. With a little hum, she stepped back from Henry and looped her arm through mine.
We walked out arm in arm while a dazed Henry continued to stare at the spot where Rowan had stood.
“You didn’t fry his brain, did you?” I asked my cousin.
“Nope, I merely distracted him and kept his mind busy with a harmless little fantasy.”
“Shameless.” I smirked at her.
Rowan slipped her sunglasses on. “He’ll snap out of it in a few minutes.”
I tried very hard to appear stern. I failed, and tucked my tongue in my cheek instead. “Is it going to have any side-effects?”
“Other than a raging hard on?” Rowan wiggled her eyebrows at me. “No, not at all.”
“Well here’s hoping that effect has worn off when I get back from lunch,” I said tartly.
“If not, use it to your advantage,” Rowan suggested.
“That’s practically Machiavellian.” I shook my head.
“No, it’s smart.” Unrepentant, she grinned. “Men can’t think past a hard on sweetie. First rule: ‘Distract and deflect,’ then ‘charm and confuse’.”
“I know, I know...” I muttered.
“He’s an attractive man, and distracting him would be a hell of a lot more ethical than spelling him into forgetting what he knows.”
“I’m not really comfortable with that either. I’d rather break out