Page 42 of Practically Witches

He rolls down the windows and flicks the volume of the radio higher. “Come on.” For a minute after we’re out of the car, we stand at the edge of the cliff. Up here, nothing looks dangerous. From up here, the town looks peaceful and quiet. We can’t see a syphoner or the bad things that happen in the darkness. Up here, we’re safe. And alone.

“You think it’ll ever be the same?” He looks at me as we sit on the hood of his car. “That the Institute can go back to the way it was before all this syphoner business?”

“My mom said that there was one, a syphoner, running loose before and they handled it. Lockdowns and whatnot until the syphoner was…gone.” Although I hate the idea of how that happened. “She said when it was over, everything went back to the way it was.” I hate ever saying the word and more I hate pretending that I don’t know all about it.

He nods. “I’m never going to let anything happen to you,” he whispers and leans in. I don’t move. I wait for thesoft brush of his lips and when it happens, I want it to never end.

Sparks fly between us. Literal sparks that land on the hood of his car in a splinter of orange that turns to ash, and when he pulls back, he leans his forehead against mine. “With you around, I feel…energized.”

He holds up his hand and I press mine against it. This time, I feel the sparks in my belly and my chest. It’s like little bursts of magic between us. They zip from my hand to his. “Me, too.”

For a few seconds, all the bad things fade away and it’s only me and him on a clear night at the lookout. “We’re going to figure this out, RJ.”

It’s like he knows the exact thing I need him to say, but part of me—a small part, but it’s there—wonders if he would still feel the same, still want to be my…whatever, if he found out I am a syphoner.

I don’t want to think about it. And I sure as hell don’t want to tell Zane and risk it.

We sit for a couple minutes doing nothing more than holding hands which is still nice, and I wonder about the sparks between us, if it’s real magic, or if it’s just some romance thing that happens between witches. I’ve never heard of it before.

Certainly, if it’s a witch thing, someone would have mentioned it in the hallway or during some after sex brag session. I hear things all the time because people talk around me like I’m not there, but I’ve never heard anything at all about sparks like this.

Maybe I have magic, after all. My dad has magic. He’s both witch and syphoner, so the idea that I could be like him isn’t out of bounds. I wonder if there are others.

I’ve used/borrowed/leeched off Aimee’s magic athousand times to cast my own spell, to make my magic work. It’s what’s kept anyone and everyone from knowing I’m different. Although, there were times I could do magic at the Institute without her being around. I wonder who I was leeching off then.

It doesn’t really matter, although I suppose I need to keep that up for now, but she doesn’t have magic anymore.

“I need to try a spell. I have an idea and want to test it out.” If a syphoner is using Aimee’s magic, then it should have some kind of active energy. And that energy, according to Professor Creighton, will have Aimee’s unique signature. I’m going to try to use the energy that is uniquely Aimee’s to find it.

He nods. “Okay.”

While our connection is still buzzing, I close my eyes, tilt my head up, and murmur the words for a finding spell while I imagine Aimee, alone at home without her magic.

My body turns clockwise—and when I say it turns, I mean I’m not the one in control of it and sometimes magic like that scares me—but when I open my eyes, I’m facing his windshield and a picture of the Club Mera sign flashing in the glass.

“Did you just do that?” Zane looks at me. “It wasn’t me, but I felt it.” Softer, he whispers, “I felt it.”

“I did it.” When I answer, he blows out a short quick breath. “I should’ve thought of this earlier. I did a spell to look for Aimee’s magic.”

He cocks his head. “That shouldn’t work. You aren’t connected to her magic. You shouldn’t be able to do a finding spell.”

“I just pictured Aimee. Remember Professor Creighton, the sub? She said that all of us have a unique magic signature. I focused on Aimee’s.” Or maybe it worked because Iam connected to it. Maybe because we’re sisters and we have the same magical bond to our parents who bestowed the magic, or because I have used her magic before to create my own.

Tonight, I’m using his, and for a couple seconds the idea distracts me enough that I wonder if using his magic means Zane and I are connected now, too. Part of me hopes it does, but that’s the naïve girl part of me. The independent woman hopes I’m not. At least not until I know him better. Lust and desire aside.

But the very last thing I need right now is his suspicion. Especially since I’m about to ask him to take me to Club Mera.

Chapter

Nineteen

Club Mera is crowded enough that I can’t really see anyone, but I can feel Aimee’s magic here, the pulse of it in my skin. We walk to the bar and find Colt and Lacey.

“Hey. It’s Romeo and Juliet, the Blair Witch version.” Colt looks us up and down.

I would love to stand around and banter with him, but I’m a woman on a mission. “Have you seen anything weird tonight?”

He shakes his head. “No, but this place is popping. A priest could come in and do a ritual exorcism but if he didn’t do it right in front of me, I wouldn’t notice.”

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