Page 11 of The Secret Life of a Witch

Why are you referring to her in past tense, Eva! Don’t give up that easily! Find her!

“I need to find her,” I announce as I step back from Hunter.

His hand falls to his side as he shakes his head. “No, what you need to do is talk to the police. They may know her body is missing, but they don’t know where it went missing from. You need to tell them that you had her body, so they can start an accurate investigation.”

I face the table with my hands on my hips, scanning the steel surface for any clues the thief might have left behind. “I can’t tell the police I had Ryleigh’s body—not when I illegally dug her up. It’s bad enough that the stupid newspaper printed that her body was stolen. At least it didn’t mention where it was stolen from.” I walk to the head of the table and lean down to examine a strange, glittery smudge. “Besides, the cops think the bodies disappearances have to do with decaying spells gone awry. But since my sister’s body disappeared within minutes, there’s no way that can be the case since the spell takes a week to completely dissolve a body.” I reach out to touch the sparkling splotch. “No, someone or something had to have broken in here and stolen her. And I have a feeling it might be a pixie?—”

Hunter lunges forward and swats my hand away from the glitter. “Don’t touch it.”

My brows furrow. “Why not?”

He moves up to my side and crouches until he’s eye level with the edge of the table. Then he closes one eye and squints at the space above the glitter. “Because that glitter isn’t from a pixie.”

“Then what is it from?”

“Remnants of a spell.”

“What sort of spell? And from what kind of creature?”

“I have no idea.” He straightens, his gaze landing on mine. The amount of fear pouring out of his eyes is startling. “But whatever it is, it’s very, very powerful, which more than likely means?—”

“It’s something very, very dangerous,” I finish, glancing back at the gleaming spot. “But, if I can figure out what left it, I might be able to find my sister.”

Hunter promptly shakes his head. “There is no way in hell I’m going to let you go looking for some unknown, powerful monster.”

I place a hand on my hip. “Let me? Since when are you my boss?”

He gives me a pressing look. “You’re not thinking rationally right now, which means you need someone to make decisions for you.”

“Hunter, I can’t just let this thing take my sister, especially when I still have time to save her from being permanently dead.” I walk to the back of the room before he can protest further, throw open the doors to the supply closet, and weave through the shelves lined with jars, pots, statues, and all sorts of other spell casting supplies.

Hunter follows at my heels. “What’re you doing?”

I stop at the far back shelf, grab a small plastic container and scraper from the top shelf, then head back to the steel table. “Gathering the evidence so I can take it to a spells expert and get an idea of what took my sister. Then, after I do that, I’m going to go to the newspaper and find out how in the hell they found out about the body being stolen before I did. I know the news prints fast here, but that was super quick. Someone had to have tipped them off.”

Hunter catches my arm, stopping me before I reach the table. “This isn’t one of your mystery books, Eva.” The anger in his eyes startles me. “Whatever’s been doing this is powerful and dangerous, and you’re …” He presses his lips together, stopping himself.

I already know what he was about to say.

“Look, I know I’m not very powerful or tough or smart, but I’m also not a coward.” I wiggle my arm from his hold and turn toward the table with the scraper in my hand.

He moves up behind me, standing so close his chest presses against my back. “I know you aren’t a coward. And you are smart and tough, whether you believe so or not.” He pauses, slowly sucking in an inhale. “I’ll let you go to the spells expert and talk to the newspaper, but only if I go with you. And you have to promise not to do anything else without consulting me first. Especially go looking for this thing.”

“All right, I won’t.” I don’t bother pointing out that I’m eighteen years old and don’t need anyone’s permission to do anything anymore—he would only find a way to prove me wrong.

“Okay, then.” He releases another deafening breath before stepping up beside me. “Now give me the container and scraper so I can collect the sample.”

I shake my head. “I can do it.”

“No, you can’t,” he insists. When I open my mouth to protest, he stresses, “A high magical current is flowing off that glitter. If you so much as get a drop on you, you could die.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to be extra careful, then. Because I’m not about to let you take the risk for me.”

He starts to roll up the sleeves of his grey thermal. “I’m going to put up a temporary magical potency shield, so I won’t be taking any risks.”

I want to say I’ll just put the shield up on myself. That I can do this. That I’m not completely helpless. But the painful reality is that I am nowhere near as skilled or powerful enough to do that spell.

I’m torn on whether or not to let him do it. If he does, then there’s a small chance something could go wrong and he could get hurt. If I don’t, then my sister could be lost forever.

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