Page 93 of The Secret Life of a Witch

Hunter smacks my hand away. “No more blood,” he warns. “It’ll just take that much longer for the powers to fade from your system.”

I heave a frustrated sigh. “You’re such a blood drinker pooper.”

He shakes his head, restraining a smile. “And you’re the most distracting girl I know.”

“Is that a bad thing?” I wonder as I move away and around a clown with neon pink hair.

Man, I am not a fan of clowns. Never have been. This one is extra creepy, with the come hither look she’s trying to give me.

Then she crooks her finger at me.

Um, yeah, no way am I going over there.

“It’s a bad thing when I’m trying to protect you,” Hunter carries on the conversation as I return to his side. “My attention should be on looking out for demons, but I’m distracted by your long legs in those knee-high socks. Seriously, why couldn’t you have just worn jeans?”

I throw him a sugary sweet smirk. “You know, those charming lines of flattery would work if I hadn’t witnessed you flirt with every pretty—beautiful,” I correct myself, and his lips quirk, “witch you crossed paths with.”

“You think I’m feeding you a line right now?” He takes my hand and presses it against his chest. “I think your legs are gorgeous, but extremely distracting.”

The truth of his words burns through our shared magic. I may have swooned myself into a state of ditzy dreamland, but the clown comes running up to me and ruins the moment.

“Beware of the clock,” she giggles hysterically. “Beware of the clock. Beware when the clock spins backward.” Giggles, giggles, followed by more giggles.

I’m about one step away from peeing my pants, when Hunter thankfully pulls me into his arms and steers me away from her.

We walk soundlessly for a while before he finally asks, “Are you okay?”

I nod. “Clowns just give me the creeps. That’s all.”

“I know they do.” He rubs his hand up and down my arm, erasing the goose bumps.

His words strike a chord in a way that I’m not sure if I love or hate. But he’s right. He does know me. He knows almost everything about me.

“I don’t really know much about you.” I frown at my own words.

He turns his head, his gaze snagging mine. “We can change that.”

I carry his gaze. “How?”

His lips part. “I?—”

“Don’t touch the bubbles,” Peyton shouts with panic in her eyes as she whirls around toward us right as a bubble pops in my face.

EVALEE

“Why? What do the bubbles do?” Hunter asks right as one pops against his forehead. His eyes widen. “Ah, shit.”

Peyton sighs heavily. “Well, I guess it’s too late now.”

I’m about to ask her what’s going to happen, when suddenly, the strongest urge to touch Hunter rises inside me.

“You’re so pretty,” I say, cupping his cheek. “I’ve always thought that.”

A trace of a smile rises on Hunter’s face, but then his grin falters. “What was in the bubbles?” he asks Peyton.

Instead of answering him, she hands him a card.

“Shit,” he says as he reads the note on the card.

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