Sarafina’s hair spilled loose down her back, silky white blond against the black of the T-shirt she’d pilfered from him that morning. Her nose, long and slightly snubbed at the end, was buried deeply in the spell book, but Theo had a feeling it was all just for show. As he watched, she puckered her full lips a little and turned a page. One bare foot jiggled with irritation, toenails painted light pink. He tried really hard not to notice the luscious shape of her smooth calves where the hem of the sweatpants she wore had ridden up.

The woman really did look and act innocent, but Theo suspected that was all a show, too. Even though he wasn’t crazy about the thought of having her as a houseguest, he wished he could keep her here a little longer, long enough to ferret out her mysteries. Maybe it was better he playact now and try to make amends. If she liked him better, it would be easier for him to keep an eye on her once she left the Coven.

He stooped to pet Grosset, then rose and walked to the center of the room. “They’ve been able to sort out the people rescued from the farmhouse and there’s proof that you were abducted.” He paused a moment, hating having to admit he’d been wrong . . . maybe. “You’re not a warlock.”

“No kidding.” She closed the book with a thump. “I was falsely accused. I told you so.”

“I know. I’m . . . sorry.”

Her lips twisted and she tilted her head to the side. “Do the syllables of the words I’m sorry taste bad? You’re grimacing.”

He ignored the comment. “You and I got off on the wrong foot—”

“You think?” She sat up, put the spell book on the coffee table, then leaned back with her arms crossed over her chest. “Normally, I love being buried alive.”

“Look, I’m sorry, all right? Sorry for everything. I was really rude to you last night and I feel bad about it, so if there’s anything you want me to tell you about—”

“Everything.” She uncrossed her arms and leaned toward him, her blue eyes suddenly bright. “I feel like I’ve been transported to a foreign country and I don’t know the language or any of the customs. I feel like I’ve found a missing part of myself, a part that’s completely familiar to me, and yet totally alien at the same time.”

He rolled his eyes. Gods, were they going to have to talk about their emotions? He’d rather stab himself in the eye.

“Plus—” She snapped her mouth shut. Her hands were clenched in her lap and had gone totally white. “It pisses me off that I’m admitting this to you, but I’m grieving right now.” She practically snarled the words. “Not that you care.”