Page 51 of Magic's Rise

“Because your father, who was a vampire, hid the paranormal world from you and used human medications to control your burgeoning magic,” Levi says slowly.

I make finger guns at him. “Nailed it.”

He leans back in his seat. “What did you do for fun when you were locked up all those years?”

“Ah, well, I was a total bookworm and TV junkie.” Which is pretty amazing, considering my attention span and the fact I haven’t read a book since. “While my dad didn’t let me out much, he made sure I always had ways to entertain myself.”

“Really? What was your favorite book?” Levi’s question holds enough interest to put a gleam in Aspen’s eyes. The nerd.

“Little Red Riding Hood,” I say without hesitation. “The version where the wolf swallowed Granny and Little Red whole.”

Haut lets out a chuckle, clearly amused by my choice.

Levi’s eyes widen. “That’s rather grim.”

“Is it?” A grin spreads across my face. “I think it’s inspirational.”

Aspen leans away from me. “Why is that not surprising?”

Levi’s curiosity pushes past the weirdness. “Why?”

“Because it’s a tale about rebirth.” I lean forward as far as the seat belt allows. “Red and Granny are dead, but then the huntsman comes along, cuts open the wolf, and bam! Out they come, good as new. They got a second chance at life, y’know?”

“That’s an interesting way to see it.” Levi nods thoughtfully. “The story must have resonated with you, to imagine that life can continue after death.”

“I did show you my grave.” My head cocks to the side. “I’m proof it can happen.”

The van sways precariously. “Hold on tight, folks! We’re taking the scenic route!”

“One more time and you’re seriously going into the trunk,” Haut warns, his focus on the other cars on the highway that refuse to see the danger Tris presents and give him room.

Levi grips the backs of our seats to stay in the center of the bench. “I’ve never been on a rollercoaster, but I imagine it feels like this.”

The blood drains from Aspen’s face. “If this continues, we’re going to end up in the ditch before we reach our destination.”

“Woo-hoo!” I thrust my arms over my head. “This beats sitting in traffic all day.”

The van hurtles down the highway, weaving in and out of lanes with a reckless abandon that makes my heart race. I sway from side-to-side, cars zipping past our windows. To Tris’s credit, no one slams on their brakes or honks, and the frequent lane changes have put us at least three car lengths ahead of the hybrid we passed a bit ago.

“With me behind the wheel, we’re going to make it to Silver Hollow before nightfall,” Tris calls over his shoulder.

I pump my arms. “Go, Tris, go!”

Aspen’s hand lifts to his mouth. “Please don’t encourage him.”

Levi leans between our seats. “So, what shows were your favorite as a kid? Fairy tales?”

“Sitcoms, mostly.” I brace my feet against the back of the driver’s seat. “I liked to study how other people lived.”

“Makes sense,” Levi says, a hint of sadness in the downturn of his lips.

Not liking that, I ask, “What about you?”

“Watched my fair share of sitcoms, too. Loved the nineties.”

I twist toward him again. “Oh, yeah? Which ones?”

We spend the next several miles reminiscing about the TV shows that we both enjoyed as kids, and even Aspen joins in, which shocks me. I would have pegged him for a documentary and History Channel guy.

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