I stand, deciding to get back to work, but Winn grabs my hand to stop me. “C’mon, Jo, you can’t leave me hanging like that.” He tugs at my arm, and when I don’t sit back down he gets up. “I promise I won’t laugh.”
I roll my eyes. “We should get more stuff to Gwen’s.”
“Tell me. Please?” He pulls me so we’re facing each other, and his eyes bore into mine with a kind of hope that is so intense I have to cave.
“Nana says there really was a witch in town back then. That it wasn’t just a myth, and people were being cursed, but then someone killed her.” I don’t blink, don’t breathe, for fear of missing a key reaction. “Have you ever heard of something like that?”
Winn’s eyes flicker with recognition, and for a second I think he might tell me what he knows about this house and what happened here. But then I see fear cross his face, and he tries to brush it off with a low chuckle. “Is that all? I’ve heard that myth, but I don’t think it’s true.”
“You said you wouldn’t laugh.” My heart races because it feels like he’s lying—like he might know all about the very world I hide from him—but he pulls me closer and gently puts his hand on my cheek. His palm is rough but warm, and it sends a jolt of tingles down my spine that may or may not be magic.
“Can I kiss you now?” he asks. “Because I don’t think I can take this anymore.”
He doesn’t wait for my answer, and his lips against mine are insistent. I wonder if this might be a distraction tactic, but then he pulls me right up against his chest and I forget everything. I let myself get caught up in him. His kisses and all the magic up here make me dizzy and giddy. I’m moving purely on instinct now, craving to be closer to him. I push my hips into his, and he guides me to the sofa.
I gasp when his weight presses me against the cushion, and he pulls back. “Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head. Biting my lip, I can feel my face flushing at the thought. “Just, um, can you kiss me . . . harder?”
“H-harder?” His smile is drenched in shock. “Did you seriously say that?”
I nod, pulling him closer again. “Can’t I like it, too?”
“Best. Girlfriend. Ever.” Winn’s lips smash against mine, and his fingers are tangled in my hair. I can’t help but slide my hand under his shirt. His skin is warm and comforting, and I wonder if maybe Nana had the right idea about protecting the house and hiding. I could hide in this protected house with Winn . . . have my own daughter . . .
“Winn? Are you up there?” his mother calls.
He pushes away from me, scrambling for his shirt. “Yeah! One sec! Crap, what time is it?”
“I have no idea.” I sit up, breathless and surprised to find myself shirtless as well. I seriously don’t remember that happening. “Talk about bad timing.”
“Tell me about it.” He shakes his head, his eyes running over me. “Do you think we really would have . . . ?”
I can feel the smile stretch across my face. “Maybe.”
He whimpers, and I laugh. Holding up a finger, he says, “Be right back. I’ll get my mom to leave.”
“Okay.” I rake my fingers through my hair, and he runs down the stairs with loud, quick steps.
It feels weird sitting in Winn’s attic without a top, so I put my T-shirt back on and start digging through more stuff to distract myself from my pounding heart. He doesn’t come right back, and I start to worry his mom knows I’m up here.
As I continue toward the far corner, I finally feel calmer, but the magic keeps buzzing. Then I realize it’s getting stronger back here, and if that’s the case . . .
I push through piles of stuff as quickly and as quietly as I can, trying to follow the spell’s trail. Reaching that corner, I know the magic surrounds something in the wall. It resonates in my blood, and because of that I’m sure it’s a Hemlock enchantment. Fanny must have put something here.
Placing my hand on the wall, I try to figure out the spell. It’s a code of some sort, but it doesn’t feel very complex, especially in comparison to the rest of the spells on the house. I push some magic into the wood and am rewarded with an image in my mind:
Pointer fingers and thumbs placed on four knots in the wood.
I follow the instructions quickly, afraid that Winn will come back any second. A small opening appears in the wall, and I hold my breath as I realize there’s a book in there. And not just any kind of book, but a history. Hope floods through me. There must be something in here that will save Nana and me from the Curse. But as I read the title, I wish I’d never found it. It can’t be true, and yet the proof couldn’t be any clearer.
History of Cordelia Black.
I shove it back into the little compartment—afraid that it’ll unleash a spell on me—and the wall reseals. Shaking, I make my way back to the couch and pace as the reality sinks in.
Winn is related to the Blacks. His family must have killed Fanny. Even if I can’t see the shadows around him, he’s probably like Levi. Has he been lying to me this whole time? I wish my gut didn’t say yes. His hatred for Levi is way more than being protective of his girlfriend—I just didn’t want to see it. I still don’t.
“Okay! She’s gone.” When Winn rounds the corner, his smile drops. “Are you okay?”
Everything feels wrong, like I’m falling down a dark pit I’ll never be able to get out of. I don’t want to, but I have to give him up before he has me completely. I head for the stairs, unable to look at him. “I better go. Sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Wait! Can you tell me what’s going on?”
I hear him following me, but I don’t turn around. Instead, I rip out a tuft of hair and use it to teleport the second I have cover. When I appear in my room, I lean against the wall, shaking.
THIRTY-FIVE
“Ugh!” I almost throw Mom’s pendant out the window, but restrain myself just in time. The stupid thing won’t work no matter what I do. Toppling onto my bed, I stare at the crack in my ceiling. I even tried that as a pendant trigger, and all I got was a nice afternoon nap. But after yesterday’s miserable revelation that my boyfriend is probably a Shadow, this pendant is my best option. A long shot, but at least I can’t get Cursed while hiding in my room.
My phone buzzes on my nightstand, and I don’t dare look at it because it’s probably Winn again. The thought of talking to him fills me with panic. I’m too tempted to answer it, to fall deeper into whatever trap he’s laid. But then I think of Nana dying, and my resolve grows stronger. I can’t let her down like that. I have to focus on saving her.
“Jo?” my dad calls from the hall. When I don’t answer he taps on the door, and then he cracks it open. “Can I talk to you?”
I shrug. I’m still mad at him for not telling me about Nana, but part of me wants to cry on his shoulder and tell him all the horrible things that have happened in the past few days.
The door swings open, and that’s when I notice the sleek white box he carries. It’s my computer. I suck in my excitement, trying to look as indifferent as possible. He can’t buy me off. I mentally repeat that as he sets it on my bed. I want so badly to reach out and touch it, but I hold back. “You think this will fix everything?”
“No, but it arrived and I thought you’d like to have it. Just because you’re mad at me doesn’t mean I’ll keep a gift out of spite.”
Ugh, how am I supposed to resist when he’s so nice? “You should have told me about Nana.”
“Perhaps.” He looks at his hands. “We weren’t sure how it would progress, Jo. Your mother had it for a few years, and Dorothea didn’t want to raise the alarm if she had that long to figure it out. If we’d known this guy would drain her so quickly, yes, maybe the decision would have been different. But she didn’t know.”