He turns on the heat. “I don’t think that’s the only reason.”
My throat tightens. What am I supposed to say? Witches don’t tell outsiders about our powers—way too much bad history with that. But I have to tell him something, especially since he’s putting his neck on the line more than he knows. “He’s . . . been asking about my mother. I think he figures we’re related because we look alike. I have no idea who he is, but he gives me the creeps. It’s like he’s following me.”
Winn purses his lips. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“No.” I pull my knees up, hugging them to my chest. We drive in silence for a few moments. Night is starting to fall over the endless fields outside town. Soon they’ll be planted, and by the end of the summer there will be corn, corn, and more corn. “Please don’t tell anyone about this. It’s personal. Family stuff.”
“I would never. Secrets are my specialty.”
I put my head to my knees. Talk about downhill. Suddenly I feel exposed, like Winn is one step away from knowing way too much about me. “I’m so sorry I dragged you into this.”
“It’s my fault. I’m the one who followed you out, though I gotta admit I’m glad I did.”
I scoff. “Glad you got forced into driving me away from a possible stalker? You sure have a strange idea of fun.”
“No.” The car slows to a stop, and when I look up there’s nothing but field in every direction. “Glad I could be there for you when you needed it.”
I shouldn’t be smiling right now, but Winn has a way of doing that. I grab the box from the dashboard. “And you made sure we had food.”
He laughs. “Hope you don’t mind that we stopped. Don’t want to run my tank dry.”
“We’re probably okay out here.” I open the box, suddenly starving. “We could wait a little to make sure he’s gone, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t.” He grabs the other slice, and we eat.
It takes a second for it to sink in, but once I realize we’re alone in his truck, in the middle of nowhere, I panic for very different reasons. “Where are we, exactly?”
“Our southern field,” he says through a bite of pizza. “Figured we could see him coming from here.”
“Good idea.”
“I have them sometimes.”
I glance over, only to find him staring right back at me. I keep waiting for him to look away, but he doesn’t. “What?” I finally say.
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Just can’t seem to keep my eyes off you these days.”
“What a line.” Too bad my smile gives away how much I fell for it.
“Do you remember the county fair last summer?”
“Of course.” The county fair is by far the most exciting thing that happens out here. “What about it?”
“That was the week Chelsea broke up with me. I was bummed and my friends dragged me to the fair so I could see that she wasn’t the only girl out there.” He puts his hand over his face. “I felt so lame that day. We were sitting in front of the band with some girls they’d dragged over. I wanted to be anywhere else. I would have taken the pigsty at that point . . . and then I saw you.”
I startle. “Me?”
“Yeah. You were with Gwen and Kat, sitting on the grass eating ice cream and laughing. You flipped your sandals off and leaned back on a tree trunk, like you were completely comfortable and content.”
I blush all the way to my ears. “I didn’t realize you saw that.”
“Well, you seemed way cooler than the people I was hanging out with. There was something different about you. I wanted to go over and say hi, but I couldn’t get myself to do it.”
“Why not?”
“Because . . . I don’t know.” He sighs. “I knew who you were, but only barely. You looked gorgeous in that blue dress, kind of intimidating. I almost got up to talk to you a hundred times, but I guess I didn’t want you to think I was on the rebound or something. After that I kept wussing out. Every art class I planned to ask you on a date, and the words never came. Figured if I didn’t do it before school ended I might never get the chance.”
“You mean this entire school year you’ve been wanting to ask me out?”
“Basically.” He winces. “Now you know, and I feel like a complete loser for telling you that story. Talk about stalking. This is the part where you ask me to drive you home and never speak to me again, huh.”
I bite my lip, secretly thanking scary stalker man for getting me alone with Winn. “Well, you do have to take me home . . .” I scoot closer to him. “But I plan on talking to you a lot. You’ll probably get sick of hearing my voice, especially since you gave me your number and everything. You really shouldn’t have done that.”
He smiles. That smile, oh, why does it make me go all melty? “I shouldn’t have?”
“Nope. You’re doomed now.”
His hand comes over mine, and our fingers intertwine. “I think I’m gonna like being doomed.”
“We’ll see.” I squeeze his fingers, bracing for a freak lightning shock from Nana or something. It doesn’t come. “You really do have to take me home now, though.”
“Guess I can live with that.” He lets go to start the car, but then his hand is right back over mine. It feels so good, wiping away any chills I still had. Strange, how easy it is to lean my head on his shoulder when earlier tonight it seemed impossible.
But when he slows to a stop outside my house, I want to shrivel up and die. Nana stands on the porch, waiting to kill me.
“She doesn’t look happy,” Winn says.
“If I don’t call you tomorrow, come looking.” I reluctantly let go. “Good night.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks, I’ll need it.” And with that, I open the car door and head to what may very well be my execution.
FIVE
Nana doesn’t say anything as we go inside. Or when I follow her to the kitchen. She pulls a chocolate pudding from the little fridge, grabs a spoon, and eats while staring me down.
I am in so much trouble.
Gulping down my fears, I say, “I assume you were watching, so you have to admit that I shouldn’t have gone straight home. That guy could have followed, and then he would have known both entrances to our house.”
She takes another spoonful.
I hate when she does this. It’s worse than a lecture. Worse than punishment. My guilt is enough of a penalty. I lean my head on the counter. “Nana, I’m sorry. Really.”
The pudding cup lets out a crumpled cry when she crushes it. “You need to tell me exactly what was said between you and that man.”
I look up, surprised that she doesn’t sound angry. The spying spell doesn’t include sound unless you want to throw in bat ears, and those are pretty hard to come by so we save them for important things. “He asked if I was related to Carmina.”
“Did you say your name? Did he hear your name at all?”
“I’m sure he didn’t.” Then my stomach drops. “But I did say Winn’s name. Is that bad?”
She sighs. “It’s not good. You may have put him in serious danger—you know the power of names.”
I suck in my tears and guilt. “I was so scared. I wasn’t thinking straight. The man hardly said anything, but he carried . . . something. Shadows. Darkness. Anger. It kept oozing out of him. Not sure what it was, except it was bad.”
She nods. “I could see it.”
“What was it?” I reach out for her hand. “What is going on? I think I have a right to know. It’s after me, isn’t it?”
Nana is not exactly the kind of grandma who looks young, but with one sigh she ages another few decades. “I hoped this day would not come. Carmina and I worked so hard to prevent this from happening. But those shadows found him—and since his intentions toward us are good, he isn’t repelled by our barriers.”