Jason had to prevent himself from startling as he watched Cole Michelson escort a very pretty girl probably a few years younger than his own twenty-six through the front doors of the Carson City Courier’s offices. They were close enough that Jason experienced a low hum in his right ear as the girl walked by — a sure sign that she was also witch-kind.
Then Michelson said, “Best of luck, Ms. Wilcox,” and offered her a somewhat rusty smile before he headed back inside the building.
Wilcox?
That gorgeous girl was a Wilcox witch?
It sure seemed that way.
A tingle of shock flashed down his spine, even as Jason told himself there was no way she could possibly know who he was. Since he could hold an illusion much longer if it wasn’t too complicated, he hadn’t done a lot to change his appearan
