Page 51 of The Secret Life of a Witch

“Ourmagic?” I raise my brows. “Since when do we have magic together?”

“Since we shared magic. It won’t last forever, but we’ll be able to channel each other’s magic through touching.” His finger skims along my wrist, his touch gentle and would be soothing if everything wasn’t so crappy right now.

“And that required kissing?” Puzzlement hazes through my mind, and not just because I’m all doped up on a sleep spell and kissing Hunter.

“It was the best way to connect our magic. Or, well, the best way that both of us were willing to do.” He wets his lips with his tongue as he stares at me intensely. “Not that I didn’t want to kiss you. I have… For a really long time.”

“You’re such a liar… And what do you mean? What other ways are there?” Witches, oh witches, I wish I knew more about sharing magic so I didn’t have to ask these questions.

His hand slides up my arm. “By getting more intimate with each other.”

My lips form ano, my cheeks flushing as images of us rolling around in bed, touching each other all over, stream through my mind in slow,slowmotion.

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he studies me. “That blush has got me really curious about what’s going on in that pretty, little head of yours.”

Gah! Curse my stupid blushing.

Taking a measured breath, I collect myself from lusty lust land and wipe the blush off my face. “That wasn’t a blush,” I lie. “My face is red with anger.” I narrow my eyes at him, trying to pull off my lie. “And I have every right to be pissed. About everything. About the lies. About the fact that I’ve been kissed twice this week, and neither of them were actual, real kisses.”

He hurriedly shakes his head. “No, it’s not?—”

I put my finger to his lips, shushing him. “No getting sidetracked. I want to know how you know I might be a hybrid, and why you’re apparently friends with a demon.”

“I’m not friends with him.” His fingers graze along the inside of my wrist, and I flinch from the light ache. “I’m sorry I gripped your wrists so roughly when we were with him. I just …” He yanks his free hand through his hair, making the strands go askew. “I just panicked, and sometimes I forget my own strength when I’m in that mode.”

“What mode? And panicked over what?”

“Over Carter being there …” He lets his hand fall to his lap as he releases an uneven exhale. “I’ve been avoiding him.”

I’m entirely aware of how he purposefully skipped over my question about his mode. Not to mention, the trust spell courses through my veins with a powerful warning.

“You didn’t answer my first question, and I know you did it on purpose, because the trust spell is going haywire right now.”

He bobs his head back as he blows out a loud breath. “Can that wait until the end? I need to tell you everything else first, before we get to the really bad part.”

I slowly blink, nearly expecting the scene in front of me to vanish. Perhaps all of this is just a dream, like that weird one where I saw Ryleigh. Sadly, though, the ceiling doesn’t melt away like the sky did. My walls, my dresser, the photos placed sparsely around the room, and my four-post bed all stay the same, along with the guilty expression Hunter is sporting.

“Fine, tell me the other stuff first,” I surrender, wiggling my arm as a signal for him to release me.

He only holds on more securely, panic flashing through his eyes. “I don’t want to let you go until we’ve gone over everything.”

“Why? You think I’m going to run?”

He wavers. “That and the fact that I just want to touch you.”

I just shake my head and don’t say anything, refusing to get caught in a remark that could very well be a lie.

He drags out the silence for a maddening amount of time, then finally gives in with a disheartened sigh. “Have you ever heard of the Mystic Willow Bay Society?”

“Vaguely,” I answer warily, wondering where he’s going with this. “But, from what I always understood, it’s an urban legend.”

“Well, it’s not,” he explains with grave reluctance. “It has existed for as long as Mystic Willow Bay has been around, and still exists.”

“Okay …?” I hug my legs to my chest and rest my chin on my knees. “So what if it does? What does some town secret club have anything to do with me?”

He situates himself on the bed in front of me, crisscrossing his legs. “It’s not just a club, Eva. It’s a group of town members who are sworn to protect the town from any impending dangers. The members are chosen by their strength, power, and fromvarious bloodlines. It was done this way in order to create a lethal group that could, if necessary, eliminate any powerful force trying to bring harm to our community.”

“You sound like you’re reciting from some superheroes’ handbook or something,” I mumble, hugging my knees tighter to my chest.

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