Witches of the Deep (The Memento Mori Witch Trilogy Book 3) (26 page)

O
n the shore
of Athanor Pond, Fiona leaned into Tobias’s shoulder, watching the morning sun stain the sky from lavender to a pale shade of nectarine. When she was little, she and her mom would sometimes get up early to catch the sunrise on Carson Beach in the summer. She felt a sharp pang of homesickness. She could never go back.

It wasn’t until after she’d seen Lir’s father, dead on the beach, that the water had begun to scare her. But she’d met Dagon and lived. And she’d seen the ocean now, the way Lir saw it, and it was hard to think of it any other way. She was grateful for everything he’d done for her.

She nestled closer into Tobias’s neck. “We have the powers of gods now. What are we going to do with ourselves?”

“I can think of a few things,” he said in a low voice.

She eyed the swooping curve of his collarbone, and his smooth, tan skin. She could think of a few things she’d like to do with him, too. She’d seen him without a shirt more than once, and couldn’t get the image out of her head. “Oh
really
,” she said, arching an eyebrow.

He smiled. “There are the things I’d need to take you home for. But other things as well.”

“Like what?”

“We can drink ale on the beach at night, or I can take you to the moon-viewing garden. I could show you how to make corncakes, or we could sit by the fire learning spells. I’ll take you to the Mayflower Festival.”

“And what happens there?”

His dark eyes met hers, and she saw a spark of red. “We slip into the shadows, and I kiss your throat softly until you demand more.” His hot lips touched her neck.

Her thoughts whirled, and she tilted back her head. “You know, I think we missed the festival.”

He kissed her on the mouth, his arms enveloping her. His beauty was almost shocking. But more than that, she couldn’t imagine herself living without his stunning kindness, the way he always thought of what she needed and made sure she felt safe. She wanted to lie next to him, night after night, his warm arms wrapped around her, and listen to him breathe.

She laced her fingers into his, their cool and warm skin intertwined. She’d found her way home after all. Her home was with Tobias.

I
f you want
to read more about the
The Memento Mori Trilogy
, you might also enjoy
Magic Hunter
. It follows the story of a member of the Purgators, forced to live among the demons she once hunted.

Thanks for reading!

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e love hearing
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A
huge thanks
to the amazing John Hart for his fantastic work on this trilogy. Thanks to Carlos Quevedo for the gorgeous covers (seriously—aren’t they the best covers ever?) And as always—thanks to Michael Omer for his genius feedback.

C
.N
. Crawford is not one person but two. We write our novels collaboratively, passing our laptops back and forth to edit each other's words.

Christine (C) grew up in New England and has a lifelong interest in local folklore - with a particular fondness for creepy old cemeteries. Nick (N) spent his childhood reading fantasy and science fiction during Vermont's long winters.

Our first book,
The Witching Elm
, was published in 2014.

In addition to writing fiction, we love to hear from our readers and can be reached at any of the following links. We always reply to our readers.

• @cn_crawford
  
• cncrawfordauthor
  

F
or my parents
, Peggy and Paul.