Serpent's Kiss: A Witches of East End Novel Read Online Free Page B

of the cabin. There was nobody in the room except the two of them. Freya slowly extricated herself from the blanket and sheets, dressing quickly and quietly, careful not to wake Killian. She was soon stepping onto the footbridge, where only the Dragon was moored. There was no one around, but she figured whoever it was had taken care not to get caught.
    Deciding to give up on going back to sleep, she walked against a strong gust along the path that traversed the darkened beach until she reached her car. Instead of taking the right toward Joanna’s, she swung the Mini Cooper in the opposite direction, driving west, taking the narrow sandy road, flanked by cattails, that ran along the shore. Not fifteen minutes later, Freya reached a dilapidated two-story beachside motel on the outskirts of town, half of which appeared sunk in the sand, perilously tilting sideways. The neon sign read UCKY STAR, the L permanently extinguished. The puke-pink and mint-green facade, as well as the rusty white railings along the upper story, had eroded in the briny air. Despite the motel’s appearance, about a dozen cars were parked out front, so Freya backed up, preferring to pull up in the shadows, lest her Mini be spotted by someone she knew.
    She got out and walked toward the motel’s front lot. It was so quiet this time of year without the constant thrum of cicadas and insects screeching in the grasses; only the sound of the wind as it whispered through the reeds and the waves crashing before slithering away.
    Just as Freya entered the lot, she heard heels clicking on the upper walkway of the motel. The stranger, a tall woman, tottered forward unsteadily, then seemed to sense Freya’s presence because she leaned against the railing and peered out to the lot. Her clothes were rumpled, and wayward strands of light blond hair had come loose from her bun. Freya hid, hunkering down behind a car, but one glimpse was all it took to know that Freya had just seen Ingrid, looking uncharacteristically disheveled. What the hell is she doing here?
    Perhaps Ingrid and that detective of hers had finally gotten around to getting it on? Freya smiled to herself. Being an expert in all matters love, especially when it came to other people’s romantic quests, Freya had not been unaware of the torch Ingrid carried for a certain Matt Noble. In this case, it hadn’t been images in her head but that sweet little kiss she had witnessed them exchange at the last annual library fund-raiser that confirmed it. However, when she had asked Ingrid about it, her sister shrugged it off, saying, “Oh, Matt, but he’s just a friend!” Yet Freya had seen the blush spread in Ingrid’s cheeks and decided that for now she would leave it alone and respect her sister’s privacy. Strange to think Ingrid and Matt would rendezvous at such a run-down hotel. Maybe it was a kink of theirs. Oh well, everyone had their little secrets.
    She heard one of the doors open then close, and when Freya rose from behind the car, Ingrid was gone. Freya sprinted across the lot to a door on the lower level, on the sinking side of the motel—the cheaper rooms. She tapped out the secret knock.
    “Will you get that, babe?” she heard from behind the paper-thin wall among sword-clanking sounds, muffled grunts, and blows coming from the TV.
    A young woman with a ponytail, the golden-brown mane swept onto a shoulder, cracked open the door. She wore a snug T-shirt that blared WRONG ISLAND UNIVERSITY , a skirt as big as a handkerchief, tights, and calf-hugging high-heeled boots. “What do you want?” she said, giving Freya the once-over.
    Freya stared back at her with equal disdain. “ Uh … I’m here to see my brother ?”
    “Let her in,” said Freddie from inside.
    The coed swung open the door, and Freya strode in. She stopped abruptly, taking in the sight: everything in the room—the floor, the beds, the desk strewn with leftover fast-food wrappers, the TV, the armchair where Freddie sat