Page 7 of Facet

Facet parked around back under the awning that ran the length of the building. I got off and fought the urge to bury my face in the leather of Facet’s jacket once more to get one last hit of his mesmerizing scent. Instead, I handed it back to him.

“Thank you,” I told him.

He grunted in response and walked away.

For a moment, I stood there and wanted to cry. Then I began to fume. My resolve grew until I balled my hands and stormed after him.

I went inside in time to see him stalking down the hall toward his room. Eyes narrowed, I followed.

When I reached his door, my courage wilted a bit, but I straighten my shoulders and raised a hand to knock.

“‘Bout time, girl,” Squirrel murmured from behind me, scaring the shit out of me as my knuckles hit the wood.

Had I not already knocked, it might’ve been enough to make me walk away. Getting caught and having someone know what I’d prepared myself to do gave me pause.

He snickered and continued on to his room.

“Come in!” Facet called from inside.

“You can do this,” I whispered as I turned the knob and went inside.

The surprise that momentarily widened his eyes was almost enough to make me smile.

“Willow?” he asked, his surprise carrying over into his voice. He sat in his desk chair, his cut hanging over the back.

“Hey. I, uh, came to thank you for the ride.” My gaze dropped to the assortment of rough-cut and polished stones on the desk by the door. Without thought, I ran my fingers over them.

“You’re welcome, but like I said, we were going to the same place.”

Right.

“These are pretty,” I murmured, grasping for something else to give me a purpose to stay in there.

“Thank you, but I have them for more reasons than how ‘pretty’ they are.” One side of his mouth twisted in a teasing grin, and my heart stuttered. He was so gorgeous when he was being playful, and it made me wonder if he had any idea how it transformed him.

“Why do you have them?”

“They each have specific properties and uses.”

“Like for spells and stuff?”

“Something like that. Many have been in my family for generations.”

My eyes bugged that some of these beautiful objects had been with his family so long.

“Wow. Did your parents give them to you, then?”

“My mother is a witch, and yes, she gave me many of them. I have no idea who my father is. Mom wouldn’t talk about him.” He shrugged, but something in his tone and the odd flicker I saw in his gaze when I shot a glance his way made me question how unaffected he really was.

I’d heard the whispers of his wicked skills with everything computer-related. Yet, I’d also heard snippets of him having “gifts.” I just had no idea what exactly that meant. It was a tightly guarded secret that most of the members in the Ankeny chapter had certain special abilities.

I’d been sworn to secrecy when I moved in.

“So what, you’re a warlock or something?”

He leaned back indolently in his chair as one hand rested on the desktop. That smirk lifted one side of his perfect mouth. “Something like that.”

“So she was a witch, like a pagan… Wiccan… witch? Or a witch-witch?” I asked as my fingers hovered over some of the colored stones on his desk.

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