Page 28 of Practically Witches

Nothing, not even a shelter at home command from Dean Ryman is going to keep me from going to Club Mera and finding out what happened to Ariya Glover.

After I’ve stuffed my bag and books into the locker I use at the Institute, I shut the door and smile. Zane is standing there with a smile on his face, leaning against the locker next to mine.

“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t make sure youand Aimee make it home.” He is standing close enough I can see the flecks of gold in his melted chocolate eyes, and there is a curl behind his ear laying against his neck that is begging for my finger to run through it, but I shove my hands in my pocket. I don’t know if we’re at that kind of place yet. Or if we will be.

“I’m not going home.” I say it softly because there are other people around—probably a nosy janitor lurking, too, though I don’t see him—and I don’t want word to get back to the dean.

“You’re still going to that club?” He lifts his eyebrows and stares at me, and I could fall into his gaze, but I don’t because I can’t fawn over him and worry about a syphoner and wonder why I was allowed to keep my magic and Aimee wasn’t.

I nod. “Yeah. I have to.”

“I didn’t know you were so close to Ariya.”

Certainly not as close as he was, but I need information, and that club is the only real clue that I have. “Well, I didn’t date her.” I smile, or try to, but the coincidences are building. And being with him might mean I’m in danger, too.

He pushes my hair back and tucks it behind my ear. “I could drive you. We could bring Dylan for extra protection.” He grins. “I think he might have a thing for your sister. It would be helping him out. Doing him a favor.”

I don’t need the distraction, but I also want him to come along. But not for protection. Not for me anyway. I’m not scared, but Aimee without her magic is more vulnerable. No way will I be able to convince her to stay behind, so if there’s a need for magic, having Dylan and Zane along is a good idea.

I nod for a few other reasons I don’t want to examineuntil I’ve had a chance to digest them. He smiles. “Thank God. I didn’t want to have to beg.”

An hour later, we’re sitting in Zane’s Jeep across the street from my house. Aimee and Dylan dropped the car we share off at home and Zane and I followed them to pick them up.“I didn’t know you lived in the Hadley house.”

All the houses in this town have history because the town is rich with history. “We’ve lived here since I was born, I think.” I wonder how long it would be before they called it the Baum house, or if we would have to move out before that happened.

He smiles as Aimee and Dylan climb out of her car. I lean forward and lift the seat so they can climb into the back, and Aimee squeezes in behind me, but Dylan hops into the backseat over the open side where Zane has removed the top.

Aimee and Dylan sing along to the radio as the wind whips through the Jeep and I worry about the condition of my hair. But this is probably the best ride I’ve ever taken into a town I’m not supposed to be visiting.

“It doesn’t look like much.” Aimee isn’t understating it. The building has a few windows but they’re high up and probably belong to an apartment upstairs. The rest of it looks like sheet metal that has been pieced together to make the outer facade. The door is heavy and plain black, and the sign across the top looked better online and in what the grimoire showed me than it does in person. It looks like hand painted cardboard, although with the amount of rain we get here, it’s probably metal. Sturdier than cardboard, anyway.

I nod at her as she leans up between the two seats. I honestly don’t know if she did it for a better view of the building or if she did it because it puts her closer to Dylan.And right now, I don’t care. I’ll ask later. Right now, all I care about is finding out what I’m supposed to see at this place.

“Maybe they’re saving for renovations.”

What I know is that we’re not going to find out anything sitting in the Jeep. I open my door and walk across the street. If I sit in the car another minute, I might talk myself out of it. Especially since this isn’t what I imagined when the book showed me the sign.

The others come up behind me because I’ve lingered with my hand on the door for a few seconds, which gave them time to get to me before I go in. No one is in a big hurry to get in there, but we look peculiar, at the very least, standing outside, holding onto the handle like we’re trying to keep the building from taking off.

Finally, I take a deep breath, pull the door open, and walk inside. I’m two steps in when Zane tugs the back of my shirt and I stop walking. The place is dark. Dank. And it smells like alcohol and something else I don’t want to think of. If any place could use a cleaning spell, even one that sets it on fire, it’s this place.

I try peeking through the darkness to see what I can make out, but the only light burning right now is a neon behind the bar that saysdrink.It should probably saybuy and spill.

Zane has his hand on my arm and he pulls me back toward him. “Slow down. We need to be careful.”

“Careful.” I parrot the word and let him slip his fingers through mine. Doesn’t stop me from calling out, though. “Hello?”

He tugs me back when I walk ahead. “RJ…”

It’s because he sees them before I do. A man and a woman, sitting at a table in this mostly dark room. Theman stands and comes toward us. He’s not big, not wide, but thin. I would bet he’s a runner. The woman flicks on a light that’s sitting in the center of her table. She’s pretty with deep red hair, like the color of blood, but her skin is so pale it’s as if I can almost see through it. It doesn’t stop her from being beautiful.

He’s still mostly a shadow because the light is behind him. “For heaven’s sake, Colt,” she says from the table. “Stop being ghoulish and flip on a fucking light.” She has a slight accent, but I can’t place it.

I can’t take my gaze off her. Not even when the man she called Colt is directly in front of me and a light comes in. He didn’t move, didn’t seem to touch anything but now he’s illuminated. His eyes are rimmed in shadows of their own and his hair is hanging in his eyes. He has a sharp jaw and a square chin. His eyes are gray or maybe silver. And he’s wearing a scowl.

He breathes in deep. “What are you…doing here?” I thought he was going to ask me what I am. And anymore, I’m not sure.

“One of our friends was here last night.”

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