Heir of Uncertain Magic (Whimbrel House, #2)

by Charlie N. Holmberg

I guess we’re even now.

lmfao

Hulda folded her arms tightly across her chest. “You are a rogue, Mr. Fernsby.”

Merritt held up a hand. “Silence!” Everyone quieted, except for Nettie, who continued to sob quietly. Hulda grabbed Merritt’s arm tightly. She looked ill. Whatever Baillie had tried on her hadn’t been good. Merritt nodded to Beth and pocketed the watch. Steadying herself, Beth approached the desk, eyeing Baillie warily as she did. She handed the piece of paper to Walker. “You might remember I’m a clairvoyant, Mr. Walker. I apologize for this demonstration, but on that paper you’ll see the name of every person Baillie manipulated in the last few minutes, along with a time stamp of when it happened.” Baillie lost all color in his face.

OH SHIT!

Hulda smiled, a sigh escaping her. “You know, if you like books, I have an excellent recommendation

dropping the bowl—and then her eyes went wide and both her hands slapped over her mouth, and her whole body shook as she eked out, “M-Merritt?” The sound of her voice nearly broke him. Merritt smiled, so relieved he wouldn’t have to explain who he was. So happy that she still recognized him, after all this time. “Hi, Mom.” She wailed and ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist, burying her face into his chest. “Oh, Merritt! My boy! My boy!”

She chuckled. “Thank you. Really, truly. Thank you.” Glancing away, she rolled her lips together. “I do want you to understand that . . . it’s not only BIKER. That is”—she fidgeted—“that’s not the only thing I love.” Warmth bloomed in his stomach and spread out to his limbs. “Miss Larkin, I am not a thing.” She swatted at him. “Do not make this difficult.” “Am I difficult to love?” She met his eyes. “No.” Those strands came loose, so he tucked them behind her ear again. “I love you, too.”