“I’m sorry,” I say through a laugh. “I’m not really laughing at you so much as with you.”
“That saying only works when the other person is actually laughing.”
“Oh, well, then …” I tickle his side.
He chokes on a laugh, his arms giving out on him. His body presses down on me, and I can feel every rock-hard inch of him. It’s the perfect moment until my phone goes mad crazy inside the pocket of my pajama bottoms.
“Magic, answer phone,” I say loudly over Hunter’s laughing. When the phone doesn’t answer itself, I clear my throat and try again. “Magic, answer phone.”
Nothing.
I frown. Such a simple spell, and I can never get it to work.
“Guess I’m going to have to do it old-school,” I announce with a sigh.
Hunter pushes up on his elbows, allowing me enough room to dig my phone out of my pocket. “Don’t get discouraged. Some spells take time.”
“I’m not getting discouraged,” I lie, swiping my finger across the screen. I just wish I didn’t suck so much when it comes to magic.
Balancing his weight onto one arm, he hooks a finger under my chin and forces me to look at him. “I know when you’re getting discouraged, so don’t try to lie to me.”
“Sorry,” I grumble. “You’re right; I am getting discouraged. But I don’t want to be. I just get so sick of being the ditzy, powerless witch all the time.”
“You’re not powerless or ditzy,” he says sternly. “And I don’t want you ever saying that again.”
I want to point out that almost the entire town disagrees with him, but I decide to stop wallowing in self-pity for the day. “Fine, I’ll stop saying it.”
“Good.” He presses his lips lightly to my forehead, and my heart literally dies momentarily. “Now, I’m going to show you something that will help.” Pushing back, he stands up and offers me his hand. I reach up, thread my fingers through his, and he lifts me to my feet.
“Aw, so you can be a gentleman,” I joke to lighten the sullen damper I put on the atmosphere. “Guess you sure showed me.”
A small smile graces his lips. “That’s not what I want to show you.” He gestures for me to put my other hand in his.
Unsure what he’s up to, but completely and utterly curious, I move to place my palm against his. Then I pause as my phone vibrates.
“Just a second.” I start to glance down to read the message, but he steals the phone.
“I need you to not read that yet.” He returns my phone then signals for me to place my hand in his.
“Is my weirdness rubbing off on you?” I ask, fighting the urge to read the message as my phone buzzes yet again. “Because you’re acting strangely weird right now.”
“If it was, it’d be a good thing.” He wiggles his fingers, indicating for me to take his hand.
Sighing, I slip the phone into my pocket and line my palm with his. “Okay, so what’re we doing exactly? Trying to channel spirit energy or something? Because, while I’m all for séances, I should probably get my ass ready for the class I’m already late for.”
“Just chill, okay,” he says. “I’ll drive you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I want to.”
“Aw …” I playfully pretend to be charmed. “And there’s my gentleman friend again.”
His eyes narrow into slits, but his lips threaten to turn upward. “He never left.”
“Tell that to the bump on the back of my head,” I tease, moving to touch my head, but he tightens his fingers around mine.
“Nope. I need you to hold still for this.”
“Yes, boss, sir.” I grin sweetly at him when he gives me an impatient look. “What? I thought you liked my sarcasm.”
“Most days, yes. But right now, I need you to be serious, because we’re about to do some serious things.” His grin is all sorts of wicked and conspiring.
“Serious things?” I mockingly shiver. “Now you’ve got me terrified.”
“There’s no need to be scared,” he assures, gently stroking the back of my hand. “I’d never let anything hurt you.”
“Aw …” This time, my gushing is far less playful. “I know you wouldn’t.”
“Good.” He smiles, but appears nervous, which makes me a mountain of jitters. “Okay, so first, I need you to assure me that you’ll trust me and won’t freak out.”
“Um … I’m okay with the trusting part, but freaking out might be out of my control, depending on what you’re about to do.” I pause. “Although, if you told me what you’re about to do, I might be able to keep my freak out level under control.”
He swallows hard. “I want to try a connecting spell with you.”
My jaw nearly ninja punches the floor.
“A connecting spell?” I ask, positive I didn’t hear him correctly.
He bobs his head up and down. “To help you answer your phone.”
“Oh.” My brain stops functioning. Words don’t exist at the moment. And not just because I’m having one of my spaz moments.
No, my stunned confusion is mainly coming from the fact that he wants to use a connecting spell with me. A spell that allows another wizard or witch to temporarily share their magic with another. A spell that is considered intimate by many and rarely used by anyone other than couples.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Hunter says after a minute of silence ticks by. “I know it’s not a spell that’s generally used between friends, but I figured since we’re such good friends … you’d be okay with it. And I think it might help you harness some control over your powers.” He blows out a stressed breath. “You know what? Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
He starts to move his hands away from mine, but I clutch his fingers.
“No, it’s okay.” I sound embarrassingly breathless. “We can—”
A thick, rolled up piece of newspaper smacks me in the face. My hands leave Hunter’s as I press my fingertips to my throbbing forehead.
“What the hell was that?”
“An emergency newspaper delivery,” Hunter mutters. “Are you all right?”
No, I want to say. I’m not all right! I want to go back to a minute ago, put my hands in yours, and do the connecting spell. Only, instead of you saying we were doing it because “we’re such good friends,” you’d declare your undying love for me.
Instead, I manage a, “Yeah, I’m just peachy.” Sucking in a subtle breath, I lower my hand from my head. “So, what’s the emergency?”
Hunter already has the paper in his hand and is reading the front page. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask. When he makes no move to show me, I lean over to sneak a peek.
He hurriedly puts the newspaper to his chest and swings around me, rushing toward the kitchen at the end of the hallway. “You know what? I think we should get you to school before you end up missing the entire class.”
Worry clutches at my throat, and I dash after him. “Hunter, tell me what it says.”
“I can’t, Eva. Not right now, anyway.”
“Why? Is it because …?” Fear pulsates through my veins. “Did something happen to my parents?”
He hastily shakes his head but won’t look me in the eye. “No. It’s not that bad.”
I trip over the threshold as I follow him into the small kitchen area, the teal countertops littered with dirty dishes and empty food containers. “If it’s not that bad, then just tell me.”
“I can’t.” He rakes his free hand through his hair and casts a glance over his shoulder at me. Worry consumes his expression, causing my stomach to drop. He must see the fear in my eyes because he hastily adds, “Not until I look into it more and find out exactly what happened. Once I have, then I’ll show you.” He tucks the newspaper under his arm and begins opening cupboards. “Now, what are you craving this morning for breakfast? Popping cereal? Glittering eggs? Oh, if you want, I can make you some of my famous magic juiced do
nuts?”
“Thanks, but those make me really jittery. Too much magic, I think. And besides, I already ate. Remember the soggy cereal?”
He opens the cupboard above the stove. “Still, you should eat something better than that.”
While his back is turned to me, I move up and tickle the crap out of him.
Letting out an embarrassingly high-pitched squeal, he drops the paper as he stumbles forward. I feel a tad bit bad when he knocks his hip against the edge of the counter, but not enough to not read what’s on the paper.
“Another dead body stolen! Ryleigh Witcherford’s, who reportedly died a couple of weeks ago, body has gone missing.”
“What the freakin’ giggling sprites?” I gape at the headline staining the top of the paper. “How did this get reported … especially when my sister’s body isn’t …?” The paper falls from my hands as I realize that sometimes the news prints fast in Mystic Willow May and that the article might carry some truth.
I spin around and run for the basement door.
“Eva, wait!” Hunter calls out. “Let me go down there first, just in case something dangerous is still down there.”
I keep running, not slowing down until I reach the bottom of the crooked stairway. I need to see for myself if the article holds any truth. Then I screech to an alarmed halt.
“No, no, no, no … This isn’t right. I must be dreaming.”
No matter how many times I deny what’s right in front of me, the steel table where my sister lay only moments ago remains empty.
Chapter Two
“Evalee!” Hunter shouts as he barrels down the stairs. “Why can’t you ever just listen …?” The rest of the scolding dies on his tongue as he reaches the bottom of the stairway and spots me standing beside the empty table. “Fuck.”
“Fuck is sure right,” I mumble hollowly, too much in shock to cry. I know it will come later when I’m all alone and this catches up with me. I won’t be able to turn the waterworks off then. “She’s gone, and it’s all my fault.”
His gaze drifts between the table and me as he cautiously makes his way across the room. When he reaches my side, he slips his arm around me and pulls me closer. “It’s not your fault. There’s no way you could’ve known this was going to happen.”
“Maybe not in a psychic way, but I’ve been reading the articles about the body stealer for weeks now.” I swallow hard as I press my hand to the table. So cold. “And I read in the paper this morning that another one was stolen from the morgue. I should’ve put more charms up. I said I was going to, but I got distracted.” By stupid, silly crushes. “Or, at least put better ones up to begin with. If I was a more powerful witch, I—”
“No,” he cuts me off, placing a finger over my lips. “I’m not going to let you go there.”
“How do you know where I was going?” My lips move against his finger.
“Because it’s the same place you go every single time.” He removes his finger. “Every time something goes wrong, you go straight to blaming your powers … even if what’s happening has nothing to do with you.”
I stare at the steel table where my sister lay only minutes ago. “This has to do with me. I chose to dig Ryleigh up after our parents buried her. And by doing that, I chose to be responsible for her safety.”
He fixes a finger under my chin and forces me to look at him. “You didn’t know someone was going to go on a stealing bodies spree when you chose to dig her up.”
“Even if I did, I still would’ve dug her up.”
“Of course you would’ve; she was your older sister. And I’m sure, if most people had your gift, they’d have done the same.” He traces his finger beneath my iridescent eye, another reminder of just how different I am.
“You’re the only witch ever known to have that eye color,” my sister told me once when I was younger and griping about how kids at school called me Freaky Rainbow Eyes. “That doesn’t make you a freak. Those kids are just jealous.”
At the time, I truly believed her words, but as I grew older and the teasing increased, it became harder and harder to convince myself that I wasn’t a freak. Still, I loved my sister for always trying to convince me otherwise.
She was the best biggest sister ever.
Why are you referring to her in past tense, Eva! Don’t give up that easily! Find her!
“I need to find her,” I announce as I step back from Hunter.
His hand falls to his side as he shakes his head. “No, what you need to do is talk to the police. They may know her body is missing, but they don’t know where it went missing from. You need to tell them that you had her body, so they can start an accurate investigation.”
I face the table with my hands on my hips, scanning the steel surface for any clues the thief might have left behind. “I can’t tell the police I had Ryleigh’s body—not when I illegally dug her up. It’s bad enough that the stupid newspaper printed that her body was stolen. At least it didn’t mention where it was stolen from.” I walk to the head of the table and lean down to examine a strange, glittery smudge. “Besides, the cops think the bodies disappearances have to do with decaying spells gone awry. But since my sister’s body disappeared within minutes, there’s no way that can be the case since the spell takes a week to completely dissolve a body.” I reach out to touch the sparkling splotch. “No, someone or something had to have broken in here and stolen her. And I have a feeling it might be a pixie—”
Hunter lunges forward and swats my hand away from the glitter. “Don’t touch it.”
My brows furrow. “Why not?”
He moves up to my side and crouches until he’s eye level with the edge of the table. Then he closes one eye and squints at the space above the glitter. “Because that glitter isn’t from a pixie.”
“Then what is it from?”
“Remnants of a spell.”
“What sort of spell? And from what kind of creature?”
“I have no idea.” He straightens, his gaze landing on mine. The amount of fear pouring out of his eyes is startling. “But whatever it is, it’s very, very powerful, which more than likely means—”
“It’s something very, very dangerous,” I finish, glancing back at the gleaming spot. “But, if I can figure out what left it, I might be able to find my sister.”
Hunter promptly shakes his head. “There is no way in hell I’m going to let you go looking for some unknown, powerful monster.”
I place a hand on my hip. “Let me? Since when are you my boss?”
He gives me a pressing look. “You’re not thinking rationally right now, which means you need someone to make decisions for you.”
“Hunter, I can’t just let this thing take my sister, especially when I still have time to save her from being permanently dead.” I walk to the back of the room before he can protest further, throw open the doors to the supply closet, and weave through the shelves lined with jars, pots, statues, and all sorts of other spell casting supplies.
Hunter follows at my heels. “What’re you doing?”
I stop at the far back shelf, grab a small plastic container and scraper from the top shelf, then head back to the steel table. “Gathering the evidence so I can take it to a spells expert and get an idea of what took my sister. Then, after I do that, I’m going to go to the newspaper and find out how in the hell they found out about the body being stolen before I did. I know the news prints fast here, but that was super quick. Someone had to have tipped them off.”
Hunter catches my arm, stopping me before I reach the table. “This isn’t one of your mystery books, Eva.” The anger in his eyes startles me. “Whatever’s been doing this is powerful and dangerous, and you’re …” He presses his lips together, stopping himself.
I already know what he was about to say.
“Look, I know I’m not very powerful or tough or smart, but I’m also not a coward.” I wiggle my arm from his hold and turn toward the table with the scraper in my hand.
He moves up
behind me, standing so close his chest presses against my back. “I know you aren’t a coward. And you are smart and tough, whether you believe so or not.” He pauses, slowly sucking in an inhale. “I’ll let you go to the spells expert and talk to the newspaper, but only if I go with you. And you have to promise not to do anything else without consulting me first. Especially go looking for this thing.”
“All right, I won’t.” I don’t bother pointing out that I’m eighteen years old and don’t need anyone’s permission to do anything anymore—he would only find a way to prove me wrong.
“Okay, then.” He releases another deafening breath before stepping up beside me. “Now give me the container and scraper so I can collect the sample.”
I shake my head. “I can do it.”
“No, you can’t,” he insists. When I open my mouth to protest, he stresses, “A high magical current is flowing off that glitter. If you so much as get a drop on you, you could die.”
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to be extra careful, then. Because I’m not about to let you take the risk for me.”
He starts to roll up the sleeves of his grey thermal. “I’m going to put up a temporary magical potency shield, so I won’t be taking any risks.”
I want to say I’ll just put the shield up on myself. That I can do this. That I’m not completely helpless. But the painful reality is that I am nowhere near as skilled or powerful enough to do that spell.
I’m torn on whether or not to let him do it. If he does, then there’s a small chance something could go wrong and he could get hurt. If I don’t, then my sister could be lost forever.
Before I can make the decision, Hunter snatches the container and scraper from my hand and gets to work.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask. “I could go find someone else to do it.”
“Are you questioning my awesome powers?” he asks, amusement playing at the edges of his lips.
I shake my head. “No. But even the most powerful wizards and witches mess up big spells like this every once in a while. I don’t want you getting hurt.”