“Yeah.” It’s scary how easy it is not to bring up magic. Nana says science was the best thing to ever happen to witches. Now there are all sorts of logical explanations for what we do, and people are always inclined to believe those first.
“Anyway . . .” Winn looks at his feet, and I feel horrible for embarrassing him. “I’m glad you could make it. Kind of last-minute plans.”
“Not a problem. It was this or homework.” I slide into the booth, immediately regretting the homework line. I’m not sure this being-myself crap is going so well, but then he laughs.
“Glad we’re at least better than homework.”
“Barely.”
“Ouch.” He smiles as he slides in next to me. Gwen and Kat end up by Winn’s buddies, Adam and Billy, filling out the round booth.
“So.” Gwen sits way too close to Adam, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “Please tell me you didn’t rent scary movies so you could watch us scream, because I’m really hoping you guys are cooler than that.”
“We have a bunch of different stuff,” Winn says. “Pooled all our Netflix orders, so you have your pick.” The closest movie theater is like an hour away. Without Netflix we’d never see anything.
“Don’t let Gwen pick.” Kat grabs a breadstick. “Otherwise we’ll be stuck with some sappy romantic comedy.”
“Hey! What’s wrong with that?”
The guys laugh, and I’m so distracted by my friends that Winn’s shoulder against mine takes me off guard. “Your friends are funny,” he says into my ear.
“I was thinking crazy, but that works, too.”
“Crazy people usually are funny.”
I smile. “True.”
He pushes a menu in front of me. “What do you want?”
“Hmm.” I pick it up, though I already know I want pepperoni and olives. It’s been my favorite for as long as I can remember. “Are we doing the mini-pizza thing or sharing bigger ones?”
“Mini pizzas have crap toppings,” Billy says. “It’s like one pepperoni a slice.”
“I’m for sharing,” Kat says. “We can take whatever we don’t eat.”
The battle over toppings begins, but I manage to get a half pizza with my choice. As we wait for the pies, I’m surprised how well the conversation goes. Gwen has a way of getting people to talk. I love her for it.
“How are we doing against homework now?” Winn asks right as the pizza comes.
I purse my lips, pretending to think about it. “Pretty good, I guess.”
“So maybe you’d skip it next Friday, too?” His eyes meet mine, all bright and hopeful.
“The night’s not even over. You never know; it could go downhill. Are you sure you want to commit to another?”
“Really sure.” His knee bumps mine, and a thrill runs through me. “You?”
“Oh, I think that would be—”
The door dings, and I can’t help but look at who comes in. Everyone is staring, because no one in town owns a suit like that. And somehow, his eyes find me immediately.
No.
Not fair. I don’t want to go.
But that dark something is there again. I can feel it slinking under the door, weaving its way through the room like a black spider.
“Jo?” Winn says.
It’s only then that I realize I’m standing. I have to get out. Even if I don’t want to, I must. It’s more important than Winn. More important than everything. “I have to go. Right now.”
He moves, though he doesn’t look happy. “Now? Why?”
I gulp down the fear. “I . . . I just do. I’m so sorry. Next Friday, though. If you still want.”
The man stands at the front door, so I head for the side exit. The shadows are wrong. The door is ice. Whatever this evil is, it’s too close.
FOUR
Witches know darkness. People like to think there is light and dark magic, but that’s not true. There is only dark. A black pool full of power and pain. The difference between “good” or “bad” witches is how responsible they are with the darkness. There are two choices: Control or Consumption.
Sometimes Control is hard. Nana says being Consumed is like being drunk on magic—you feel more powerful than ever. You are, but you lose yourself in the process. The darkness Consumes your soul bit by bit as payment, until you’re a slave to the power you could once control.
Always a price.
The dark shadows are Consumption. Or at least something tied to someone who has been Consumed. I can feel their hunger. They desire to have me, call to me with promises of power beyond anything I have now.
It’s wrong. I repeat the words over and over as I head into the night. The cool spring air nips at my arms, but it’s nothing in comparison to the aura that man brings with him.
The Main Street house is four blocks from here, but I can’t stand to walk that far. I worry the man is already making his way back outside, determined to talk to me again, and this time I don’t have the protection of our magic-fortified iron gate.
I wince as I rip out a handful of hair. Then I wrap it around my palm until it looks like a pentagram. Closing my eyes, I visualize my room. The white drapes and blue window-seat pillows. My armoire and full-length mirror. The magic surges from my toes to my head. Soon I’ll be safe from the darkness. A little bald, but safe.
The restaurant door slams behind me. “Jo?”
I let out a squeak at the voice, and my spell is broken. Whirling around, I find Winn standing there with a box. I let my handful of hair fall to the ground. “What are you doing out here?”
His brow furrows with concern. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
“Sorry.” I slump. “I told you things could go downhill.”
“You didn’t get to eat.” He holds out the box, and I melt a little. “Thought you should at least have dinner.”
I take it, wishing so badly that I could go back in there and pretend nothing was wrong. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that—I haven’t paid.”
He shrugs. “I was going to pay for you anyway.”
“Oh.” He’s killing me here. I can’t help but think about how incredible this night could have been, and instead I have to run out on him. “I better—”
The door swings open again, and my jaw drops. Winn sees my expression, which I assume has crumbled into horror, and turns to look at what caused it. “Can I help you, sir?”
“I need to speak with your . . . friend,” he says, his eyes intent on me, desperate and sad. The darkness seeps out of him, slowly making its way over. “I need to know if she’s related to Carmina Hemlock.”
“Leave me alone.” I take a few steps back. “You have no business here. I won’t talk to you.”
The man comes forward. “But—”
Winn stands in his way. “She said she didn’t want to speak with you.”
“Winn.” I tentatively put my palm on his back. “I have to go home. Now. Can you take me home?”
“Of course.” He takes my hand and pulls me to his truck.
“Wait!” The man and his shadows follow. “Please! I don’t mean you any harm. I would never do anything to Carmina’s fam—”
“Get away from her!” Winn quickly unlocks the driver’s side. “Climb in.”
I do as I’m told, landing in the passenger seat right as he revs the engine. He peels out way too fast, but under the circumstances I don’t mind. As Winn heads for my house, I realize the man might follow us. “Drive around a little. I don’t want him knowing where I live.”
“Okay.” He makes a right on the closest street. “Can I ask what’s going on? You’re trembling, Jo.”
“I am?” I look down, just realizing my arms really are shaking. My fingers are freezing. No, all of me is freezing. I rub my hands together. “I guess it’s colder outside than I thought.”