Page 59 of The Secret Life of a Witch

I squint through the smoke and, sure enough, I make out a dark-haired, pierced, Goth prince laughing at me from the far back corner.

Max is dressed head to toe in black, with chains hanging from his pants and leather bands covering his wrists. His clunky boots are kicked up on a table, and he’s tipped back in the chair with his hands tucked behind his head. So casual. Not a care in theworld. As if he’s unafraid of me trying to run, trying to fight. Like I won’t do anything.

Irritation works underneath my skin, only amplifying as a smirk spreads across his face.

I narrow my eyes at him and glance over my shoulder, looking for a place to run, and not just to escape, but to prove a point—that I’m tougher than I look. But it’s an act. A reaction … Okay, okay, maybe I’m not tough. That doesn’t mean I can’t change that.

Elevating my chin and throwing his smirk right back at him, I spin on my heels and rush toward a narrow crack nestled in the far back wall. I’m not sure if I can fit through it or where it leads, but I’m not about to stand around and let these demons do … Well, whatever they’re planning on doing to me.

The second I try to squeeze through the crack in the wall, I smack into an invisible barrier and fly backward, landing on my ass.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I grumble as a puddle seeps through the bottom of my shorts. “An invisible force field? Really, Max? That’s the best you’ve got?”

The music dies, and the quiet that follows has me feeling about as stiff as a broomstick.

“You say that like you didn’t just get knocked flat on your ass.” Max’s voice comes from right beside my ear, so close I can feel his breath.

Startled beyond all magical control, I nearly pee my pants. Thankfully, I manage to keep my bladder in check. Although, I’m not sure it would matter since the ass of my shorts is already sopping wet.

“You know, if I had my wand, I could escape,” I lie, leaning forward and stumbling to my feet.

“Sure you could.” His condescending tone makes my fingers curl inward.

I turn around to face him with my hands balled at my side, attempting not to notice how much more intimidating—and sexy—he looks up close.

Sexy? Jeez, Eva, get a grip on yourself.

Sadly, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to tell my hormones to cool the freeze spells down while being around Max. Demon or not, there’s no denying the guy is attractive. Well, if you like that Goth, bad boy look, which I usually don’t. My taste has always been blond-haired, piercing free, slightly on the preppy side guys. Aka Hunter. Then again, the last time I saw Hunter, he pretty much looked like Max, except for with blond hair and no piercings. That I could see, anyway.

I crinkle my nose at the memory of how he told me that was how he looked when he wasn’t around me. He looked so strange to me. Hot? Yes. Maybe even hotter. But unfamiliar. Not the best friend I thought I knew.

“What’s that look for?” Max questions with a curve of his brow. “You’re not thinking about that pretty boy wizard you’re in love with, are you?”

My lip twitches that he knew exactly where my thoughts were. “Nope. I was actually thinking about how much this place reeks like a sewer. That’s probably because of all the demons lurking around.”

Instead of getting irritated, he smirks. “You and I both know that you think I smell”—he makes air quotes—“ ‘lovely’.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m pretty sure you’re a little confused about the proper way to use air quotes.”

His smirk never falters. “And why’s that?”

“Because, at some point, I would’ve had to say you smelled lovely, and I can assure you I never have.” Aloud, anyway.

His lips span into a haughty grin. “Are you sure about that?”

“Um, yeah.” I try to convey confidence, but the arrogance in his expression is making me all squirrely.

He reaches forward to lightly tug on a strand of my hair. “You know, you’re quite the little sleep talker. At first, I was a little annoyed, especially when you kept going on and on about that stupid blond, wannabe punk rocker wizard. But when you shifted your focus on me …” He grins. “Well, I found it quite amusing and very insightful.”

My heart thunders in my chest. “I don’t sleep talk.”

“You can’t possibly know that for sure.” He gently tugs on my hair again. “And I assure you, you do. A lot. In fact, you might be even more chatty while you’re asleep.” His gaze drops to my lips. “And those little moaning noises you make are absolutely delicious.”

My cheeks flame, partly out of embarrassment and partly out of rage. “I don’t moan in my sleep, nor do I talk. And even if I did, I’d never,evertalk about you. At least, not in a positive way.”

The stupid grin remains as he grazes his knuckles across my cheekbone with a look of fascination. “You’re adorable when you blush.”

I angle my head away from his hand, despite the shiver his touch elicited. “Don’t touch me.”

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