Charmed (The Witch Hunter #2)

“Sorry about the toothbrush,” I say.

“Toothbrush—nice,” he mutters. But he walks up to me. In the dim glow of a night-light set into a vanity, I can just make out the smooth contours of his face. In the short time since I last saw him, his black hair has started to grow out of the military style he wore it in, curling around the nape of his sun-bronzed neck. Which, I note, isn’t even bleeding from where I jabbed him with the toothbrush.

“Some people saw us come in here,” I say. “What if they tell?”

“They won’t,” he answers. “It’s not the first time this sort of thing has happened.”

My face flames in the dark, and I become hyperaware of the tiny white nightgown I’m wearing.

“I mean that a guard has snuck away with a girl,” he explains. “Not me. I wouldn’t do that. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“O-kay,” I say cautiously.

He sighs. “What happened in the mess hall? Everyone’s buzzing about it.”

I cross my arms over my chest, reluctant to give away any information. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

“I’m trying to help you,” he answers irritably.

“And how do I know I can trust you?”

He thinks about it for a minute. “You don’t.”

Awesome.

“Well, I’m not telling you anything,” I say.

“Why didn’t you leave when I gave you the chance? I gave you the perfect opportunity to escape and you blew me off. I don’t get it.”

“Not used to girls blowing you off?” I ask.

“You’re avoiding my question.”

I shrug. “I wasn’t ready. Not that it’s any of your business.”

He eyes me a moment before taking a step closer and leaning to speak into my ear. “I know your secret.”

His breath along my ear sends a shiver down my body. I tighten my arms over my chest, refusing to meet his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Why do you remember blowing me off? You were taken to the Chief after I left you. Your memory should have been erased.”

Crap.

I open my mouth, but no sound comes out.

“Don’t,” he whispers. “Don’t lie.”

I swallow, trying to hide my rising panic. “So what are you going to do, tell on me?” I ask.

“Yeah, that’s why I changed shifts so I could be the one guarding you tonight. Just so I could tell on you. You caught me.”

I don’t get it. I shake my head. “So why are you here, then?”

“To help you,” he says. Like it should be obvious.

I look into his eyes. Even though it’s dark, I can still make out the intensity there. My heart does something I don’t want to think about interpreting and my mouth feels like it’s been filled with cotton. I don’t know what to say.

“Why would you want to help me?” I finally manage.

He’s quiet for so long I don’t think he’s going to answer. But he does. “I had brothers back home. If anything happened to them—” He shakes his head. “I admire what you’re doing for your friend.”

Tears prick my eyes unexpectedly, and I’m glad for the dark so he can’t see.

“You have brothers?” I ask, just to get past the awkward moment.

“Two—they were five and eight when I was sent here. That was four years ago. Joel probably doesn’t even remember me anymore.”

I bite my lip, my chest squeezing up at the emotion in his voice. I’m not used to a guy wearing his heart on his sleeve. Bishop gets weird the minute girls get emotional. Forget about him crying himself.

“Four years,” I say. “That’s a long time.”

He shakes his head as if coming back from a memory. Then he clears his throat, and when he speaks again, his voice is low and gruff. “Tell me about it.”

“So how did you get sent here, anyway?” As soon as I ask, I’m not sure I want to know the answer.

“I did some stupid stuff when I was younger.”

I raise my eyebrows, which makes him give a low chuckle.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t kill anyone.”

“How reassuring.”

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

I think about it. I don’t know him, but for some reason, I do trust him. “Yes,” I answer.

“Then that’s all that matters.”

His eyes are so intense as he looks at me. He has a way of stripping my guard with just one look, like he’s seeing right through the tough-girl exterior to the fragile girl inside. It makes me feel utterly exposed, like I’m standing naked in front of Mrs. Davies’s homeroom class, and yet I’m not uncomfortable.

Suddenly, the space between us feels small. “Um, sorry again. About the toothbrush and the strangling. I feel bad.”

He smiles without breaking eye contact. “And I’m sorry about kidnapping you.”

I can’t help grinning now. “And about that time I left you with the bat thing. That was really rude of me.”

He chuckles quietly. “Forgiven….Friends?” He looks at me earnestly, his teeth biting into his bottom lip. My stomach does a massive flip.

“I thought you said there were no friends in Los Demonios,” I say. Is it just me, or has my voice gone hoarse?

“Well, maybe I’m reconsidering that,” he answers.

He takes a step closer, narrowing the already small space between us. Body heat radiates off him in waves, the scent of soap and sweat and man filling the air. I make the mistake of looking at his lips.

“I need to find Paige,” I mutter.

He reaches up and brushes my hair behind my ear, tingles trailing where his fingers touch my skin. He cups my face with his hand, his thumb moving to graze my bottom lip. I can’t seem to catch my breath. He tips his face to mine. I should leave. I need to leave. This is wrong, wrong, wrong. But I don’t move. Anticipation builds up inside me until I feel like I might explode.

A firework of pain explodes in my temples. I gasp, my hands coming up around my ears.

“What’s wrong?” Cruz asks.

Black spots flash in front of my eyes. I try to fight it, to stamp down the awful pain radiating inside my skull. I fall to my knees. Cruz’s words float around my head.

One minute, I’m in Los Demonios. And the next minute, I’m gone.





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