Page 120 of The Witch is Back

Kole’s smile was faint. “She’ll kill me, but it’s important. When she gives you the ring. Ask her.”

CHAPTER 24

The days leading up to the Exhibition could be described as some of the happiest of Emma’s life.

Days filled with laughter, smart-ass remarks, teasing and wedding prep; nights spun away as she and Bastian hung out at the bar, shot pool, judged the karaoke singers and challenged each other at drinking games. Tia had woken up one morning with blue-and-silver-striped hair—a shot of karma, Bastian had said with an easy smile. Tia had just warned him to watch his back for her revenge.

And of course, nights were also for just the two of them, when they more than made up for the time lost, each addicted to the other. And he was always surprising her by being quippy one moment and then hauling her in to hold her. Just hold her, with one strong hand cupping her neck. It was those moments that made her unease deepen, but also what fed the endless hunger to be near him.

Of course, the days were not all light. Emma, frazzled from stress, had failed five times in a row to perform their trick as Bastian had envisioned. Close to bursting, she’d announced that she was quitting, changing her name and fleeing the country. Since she’d never yet left the country, the threat was fairly empty.

Still, Bastian had taken her seriously, badgered her into going for a drive with him. And then coerced her into using her magic to create the illusion of a siren so they could speed their way through downtown. Laughter had shoved the panic aside as they’d flown through the city, Emma’s knuckles white on the steering wheel, feeling free and reckless and in definite lust for the casually rumpled man laughing beside her.

Just in lust, she assured herself. Who wouldn’t be?

It wasn’t just the siren illusion. He nudged her to break the rules wherever, reminding her of when they were young and he’d cajole her into pulling pranks that she’d never got away with. One rude woman in Starbucks had her jeans split when she bent forward; a spoiled child had to run after his floating ice cream cone. When Emma had told Sloane that one, her sister had almost cried with laughter. But her pleas to hang around with them had led to reminders that Bastian didn’t know—and couldn’t know—about Sloane. At least, there was no point in telling him. He’d be moving on soon.

She’d catch him looking at her sometimes with an odd expression, but he always just smiled when she demanded to know what was up, caught her hand, kissed the knuckles and moved them on. She sometimes worried he was reading her mind, but knew he’d never purposefully broach her privacy. Not to mention if he really did read her mind, well, she’d know. By the explosion that met her at the door.

No, her secrets were safe. Some she had to keep, but some...

Kole had lived up to his word and passed across the barrier ring days ago. She’d hidden it in her jewelry box, barely able to look at it, let alone think about how to give it to Bastian. What she’d say.

How could she lie to him again? She’d lied so much already, and with each sunset and sunrise they saw together, the need to crack open the door, to let him in a little, mounted. She had to give him the ring. She just didn’t know if she should cross the line she’d drawn and admit why she was giving it to him, what it had been created to shield him from. The agony of indecision left her spinning.

She’d heard him on the phone talking to his friend Ethan, the one who lived near the Nile. She’d been folding laundry in her bedroom, but had paused when she’d heard the interest in his voice.

“A new find?... Oh, that soon? Yeah, I’m not sure... Yeah, right. I’ll see what I can do.”

She knew what that meant. He was already being asked to join a crew, to go on a dig. That reminder had been a harsh slap, but one she’d needed. He might say he was sticking around for now, but it was just for now. Eventually he and Hallie would go back to his old life.

But the ring...the more she thought about it, the more her desire to admit the truth grew. He’d already seen for himself what a poisonous family she came from, excepting Kole. No illusions there to maintain. And she really liked that if she did this, told him this truth, it could be a gesture that showed how much she cared for him—as one did for a friend. For someone who was important in that way. He’d opened up to her; this could be her way to bridge the gap. She couldn’t tell him about Sloane, not without jeopardizing her sister, but she could tell him about the leeching power of the Joining clause.

If only she could find the right time. Amazing how there never seemed to be one.

Like a clock counting off minutes, the days passed, and then it was the night of the Exhibition.

Bile churned in her stomach as she stared at her reflection. Muttering, she tried on outfit after outfit, spinning in one circle after another until dizziness made her flop backward onto the bed.

Bastian came in, saw her. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Before she knew what was happening, he’d crawled on top of her. He kissed her, his heavy weight helping to ground her. “Hi.”

“I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I actually can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“They’ll laugh at me.”

“Then I’ll kill them. Wonder what the tattoo for that will be.”

She hadn’t thought a smile was possible but one nudged at her lips. “What if I make a mistake?”

“Then you make a mistake. I’m not going to leap to my feet and scream stop the wedding. Mainly because I don’t leap. Not becoming of a Truenote.”

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