I click out of Instagram and return to Google. My fingers hesitate over the keyboard. I don’t even know what to type. Finally, I punch in sorcerer spells + humans.
Twenty-six thousand results pop up. My throat feels hot and dry as I click on the first link. It opens to a web page that looks like a homemade LiveJournal. I skim the passage, barely breathing.
“Interesting reading material.”
I yelp and spin around to find Jessie standing right behind me, her books pressed against her chest. I click out of the web page, but it’s too late. My cheeks flame.
“It’s research,” I spit out. “For school. For an English paper.”
“It’s okay,” she says.
I open my mouth to say something, but she shakes her head. “You don’t have to be embarrassed around me. Paige told me all about your mom’s occult shop. I think it’s cool.”
I swallow, my heart continuing its frantic beating despite her words. “You, you do?”
“It’s interesting.”
She slides out a chair at a nearby table and drops her bag onto her lap, then pulls out a sandwich. She carefully unwraps the cellophane and takes a big bite.
“Want to sit?” she asks, through a mouth full of food. “I could use the company.”
“I–I’m sorry. I have to go.” I grab my bag and dash out of the library before I can see the hurt on her face.
I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know that it’s not just Paige’s life in danger anymore. I need to get back to Los Demonios. I don’t need to make new friends. Besides, not much good has come from letting anyone get close to me so far.
I knew exactly where to look for the Ancient Spells book. Mom kept an autographed copy on display in the diningroom china cabinet ever since the author came to the shop to do a signing a few years back (she didn’t seem to think it was funny that a “warlock” was doing book signings). I almost cried with relief to find the book still there. Thank God, or I’d have to jack a copy from the Black Cat and risk Aunt Penny finding out. Or worse: take out a witchcraft book from the library.
I flip onto my stomach and flatten the cover on my bed, scanning passages for something that might help me inside Los Demonios.
Now that I have a good idea where Paige is being held, it’s incredibly tempting to speed down to the boardwalk and return to LD as soon as possible, but if my experience in that place has taught me anything it’s that I’m way out of my league. I may have survived, but only just. I can’t take credit for it and I definitely can’t expect to have the same luck if I go back with the same sad skill set as before. I need to be able to defend myself. I need a few more tricks in my magic bag besides flying and moving objects.
There’s a knock on my bedroom door. I find Bishop smirking at me from the doorframe. He’s got his hair tied back in a ponytail, with a few strands pulled loose around the colorful tattoos on his neck. His leather jacket is draped over his arm, and he gives me a smile that crinkles his eyes, like nothing at all happened between us today.
“Can I come in?”
I return his smile. “Of course.”
“Where’s your car?” he asks, ambling inside. “It’s not in the driveway.”
I drop my eyes to the book. “Oh, uh, in the shop. Oil change.”
“You know I could have done that for you.”
Note to self: get back down to the boardwalk and buy back my car ASAP.
“I’ll remember that for next time.”
“Door stays open,” Aunt Penny says, walking past.
My cheeks flush, but Bishop doesn’t seem the least bit bothered. He plops down heavily on the bed and picks up the book, turning it over to look at the gold-embossed cover.
“Man, math has really changed since I finished high school,” he says.
I grin at him.
“Seriously, though—I thought you were studying for your retest. What’s all this about?”
I shrug as he flips through the pages, like I don’t know exactly what it is and exactly why I invited him here. “Just some old book I found in the china cabinet,” I say.
“?‘Battle Tactics,’?” he says, reading the chapter title. “Some nice light reading.” He tosses the book onto the floor and leans over suddenly to bite my neck.
“Bishop!” I complain, though I can’t help giggling at the flash of pleasure it sends through me.
“What?” he asks into my neck.
“Aunt Penny.”
“She went downstairs,” he says, grazing his lips along my jaw. “Kiss me. I missed you.”
I can’t resist the desperation in his voice, and climb into his lap. He takes my head in his hands and transfixes me with a look that sends a thrill through my body, the tiny space between us thrumming with electricity. His lips find mine, hot and urgent and full of apology. A trail of tingles follows Bishop’s hands as they roam down my sides. When his fingers dig into my hips, it’s like a match is struck inside me. I kiss him harder, slipping my hands under his thin T-shirt, up over the planes of his warm, hard chest. He lets out a little groan and pulls my hips harder against his. Some semblance of sense comes flooding back.
“Bishop.” I push at his chest, panting for air. “I was doing something, you know.”
“More interesting than this?” he says, his voice husky. He nips at my earlobe, which is so not fair because he knows what that does to me. I almost give in and magic the door shut. But instead I climb off his lap, fighting the dizziness his kiss brought on.
“Yes. No. I mean, I was practicing my magic.”
He seems to sense the change in me and sits up straighter. “Something wrong?”
“No.” I pace over to the computer desk, then spin around to face him. “Well, yeah, actually, there is.”
His brow creases with concern.
“It’s just…I hate not being able to protect myself.”
“Oh,” he says. “What brought this on?”
I shake my head. “Nothing, really. I’ve just been thinking.”
He crosses the room in two long strides, drawing his arm around my shoulders. I can’t help melting into his touch, resting my head against his warm shoulder.
“Indie, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”