Page 102 of Roaring Flames

Or when we were playing air hockey, I allowed my sleeve to slip down just enough to reveal a hint of my bra strap.

Or when we were playing a basketball game, I happened to drop a coin and had to bend down…

I chuckle to myself, and Ethan’s eyes narrow.

“You’re evil.”

“Nah. I just think I’m better than you in every way.” I shrug a single shoulder casually.

“She has us there.” Emery throws his arms around Ansel and Ethan’s shoulders and smiles at me. The moonlight catches on his piercing, causing it to glisten. “I’m more than willing to bow down to you.”

“Good boy,” I praise.

He bites his lip so hard, I swear I see blood.

“I still don’t think it’s fair,” Ethan protests. “You ch?—”

He freezes abruptly, his muscles locking together and his nostrils flaring. Tension lines the rigid planes of his shoulders and the granite set of his jaw.

Emery stops walking as well and whips his head to the side.

“What’s going on?” Ansel asks, ducking under Ethan’s arm to go and stand beside me.

A frown tugs at his perfect lips.

Ethan and Emery exchange a look and then immediately begin to herd us towards the car.

“We need to go,” Ethan says briskly.

“Now,” Emery agrees.

But we don’t make it more than a few steps.

Out of the darkness, six people step forward, moving with a sort of elegance I could only attempt to emulate one day.

I recognize the girl closest to me immediately.

Michelle.

She smirks victoriously when our eyes connect and brushes a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Five other people flank her—one other girl and four guys.

The man in the middle steps away from the group with an easygoing grin on his face.

“Boys. Long time no see.” His smile doesn’t fade, even as his eyes darken, turning flinty, two chips of obsidian refracting the moonlight.

On closer inspection, I see that he isn’t a man after all. Or at least, he’s not significantly older than us. He looks as if he’s Christian’s age, maybe a little older. His dark hair is buzzed close to his scalp on the sides but is longer on the top, sweeping forward in a stylish way. He has light-brown skin and darker eyes—so dark that they seem to swallow the moonlight.

He must be Michelle’s brother. The similarities between the two of them are unmistakable.

And if Michelle is a witch, then that means he’s a…

Cold fear tiptoes up my neck.

Ethan and Emery move to stand in front of me, shoulder to shoulder, blocking me from view.

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