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I bite my lip and lower myself to the seat. “What did you say to him?”

She moves her hand and flips the page on her magazine. “I told him that he should probably go then, until he figured it out.”

I’m not sure if I’m touched or pissed at that. Right now, I’m a little of both. “Really?”

Connie nods. “Then he looked right at me and said, ‘Tell her I meant it. Everything.’ And then he left.”

My heart plunges into my stomach. What am I supposed to do with that? It’s unfair and it’s totally confusing. And it’s made worse by the fact that I have to see him tomorrow, work with him. I wish I never asked her.

“What happened between you two? I mean, before yesterday’s reveal.”

“It’s a long story, Con. Carter and me, it’s—” It’s what? “Complicated” is too much of a cop-out. I have to tell her. Gran comes into the kitchen and I nod toward the stairs. Connie follows me into my bedroom and I tell her everything from meeting him to our powers to tracking demons to our kiss to yesterday when I found out he wasn’t really who he said he was.

And when it is all done Connie is staring at me, this weird excited-yet-worried expression on her face. “That’s how you’d done magic! Why does it work with Carter?”

“I don’t know,” I say.

“I think you have some things to figure out.”

“I know. How can I work with him now after all of this?”

“I was thinking more that you need to figure out how you feel about him. He seems pretty determined to change your mind.”

“I don’t feel anything about him.” And I don’t. Not anymore. I can’t. I don’t want to. I have too much to do.

“Penelope,” she says, cocking her head to the left.

“Constance,” I say, mimicking her expression.

She throws her hands up, and then reaches out for mine. The movement reminds me of Mom again. She’s been doing that a lot lately.

“I know you. You’re not the type of girl who would tell someone all your secrets. Who would talk about Mom and Dad with a stranger.” The mention of Mom makes me miss her more. “And you’re certainly not the girl who stays up crying over a boy just because he lied. You wouldn’t do that unless you liked him. A lot.”

I know she’s right, and hearing her tell me that I like Carter isn’t some news flash. But if I could pretend I didn’t like him then it wouldn’t hurt this bad. I don’t know how to trust him now.

“I think you start by giving him a chance.”

“What?”

Connie shakes her head at me. “You said you didn’t know how to trust him now.” I didn’t even know I’d said that out loud. “You should talk to him. You want to be an Enforcer and you need him for that—and you feel something for him. Even if you don’t want to. So just talk to him.”

I throw myself on my bed and erase another text message to Carter. How do you apologize when you haven’t really done anything wrong?

My sister said you came by. And idk

I wait for an answer. It comes pretty quickly. idk what?

Idk what you can do to make it right. Maybe nothing. But we have to do this together b/c I need you.

Good. I need you too.

Wait. For the exam, I mean.

I know what you mean.

He doesn’t respond after that. Not for hours. Not until he says that he’ll see me in the morning for practice.

Chapter Nineteen

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

That’s all I have found on Emmaline Spencer in the five days since I first saw her name.

Well, not nothing. Poncho did discover that she actually existed. I was starting to think that Gran was right about her not being real, so that was a win for our side. The only win.

I’ve spent every hour of the last three days that I haven’t been training with Carter and Ellore in the library researching. Including most of the nights, at least when I’m not tracking with Carter as per our agreement, which he swears he didn’t break even though he was already there. I’ve been checking all the names again: Alfie Spencer, Emmaline Spencer, Vassago, my demon Azsis, the ritual to get my magic back, anything. Nothing new pops up. I researched the years 1962—lots of death—and 1842—lots of lame.

I even took to the stacks to search for links between my magic and Carter’s. There’s nothing.

Seak jumps on the table next to me and I slam another book shut and add it to my fail pile. Two piles, actually. Twenty books. I lay my head down on the table. I’m so tired. I just want all this to lead somewhere. Seak rubs his head against my arm, so I pet him begrudgingly.

“No luck yet?” Poncho asks, placing some more books on the table.

I look up at him. “Is this the face of someone with luck?”

I make my best frustrated/angry-pout/puppy-dog-eyes face. He studies my face. “It is,” he says.

“Thanks for your confidence.” Not that it does much.

My phone rings and Poncho frowns before he goes back into the stacks. He hates my phone. It’s Ric.

“Meet me for dinner,” he says when I answer. “I haven’t seen you in a week. I thought you were dead.”

“Not yet. Carter and Ellore are intense about training,” I say.

“Everyone’s intense, girl, but we take breaks for dinner. Is that where you are right now?”

I inhale. “Yeah. We just finished.”

“Huh,” he says with a pause. “Then meet me at Burrito Barn in half an hour. We have things to talk about.”

“Okay,” I say. I’d actually really love to see Ric. And my sister. And someplace that isn’t this library or a training room.

I’m three blocks away when I catch the scent of a demon. Or rather, it catches me. It’s been following me in its Non form for the last five blocks since I got off the Metro. I’m not sure why—or how—but it’s here. I pull out my phone.

Demon following me. At Eastern Market. Gonna lead it away.

In a few seconds, Carter responds. I can be there in ten. I’m just at Gallery Place.

Great. He’s close.

I wrap my hand around my salt necklace and count to ten while I walk. Each number, each step, I tell myself this is not a bad idea—even though it feels like exactly that. I have no magic until Carter gets here.

I try not to look back so the demon doesn’t get startled, and keep walking. I don’t want to lead it into the Burrito Barn, not with all those Nons around, so I have to reroute. I walk right past the restaurant and text Ric.

Running late. Be there soon.

I can’t mention I’m luring away a demon or he’ll get suspicious as to why I can’t just kill it.

I keep a steady pace, even though walking is a bit hard to do with adrenaline pumping through my veins. Running would be so much easier.

The park is two blocks away and it follows me the whole way. As soon as we hit the grass, it makes its move. Its hands are cold as they wrap around my arms, pulling me toward it. I let it. I want it to think I’m weak. He sniffs me, overexaggerated.

“You smell unique, little witch.”

I ignore it, even though it chills me, and search around for Carter. Where is he? Then I see it—a flash of brown against the demon’s green eyes. That can only mean one thing: the Non is still alive, still fighting—and that’s a whole different game. The longer demons stay in a Non, the less likely that the Non will survive. Hours, usually, before the demon sucks away the soul and walks around uncontested in the skin. But when a possessed Non keeps the natural hue of their eye and skin, those things that make us human, it’s a good sign. Now, I just need to save myself and the Non inside. Somehow. Without magic.