Page 59 of Road To Runes

“How rude.”Hecate mewled as she dug her claws into my coat arm.“I don’t want to stay inside anymore. It’s not good for me.”

If an indoor cat like Hecate had complaints about staying inside, she definitely needed a little field trip. But it wouldn’t be tonight.

“I’ll smuggle you to a wildlife park or something soon so you can bully the jaguars,” I said, zipping up my bag.

“I’d rather you took me to a museum so I could help myself.”

“Gods, you really are a British cat.” I deposited her onto the bed and scratched her behind the ear. “We’ll do something special, okay? Just hang tight here until I get back.”

Hecate reached up to touch the back of my hand.“Fine. But I expect you to pick up some salmon on your way home.”

“Consider it done.”

With Hecate appeased, I slipped out of the house and drove on my bike to the teleportation tunnel, popping out in Seville this time. It was one of the few Spanish towns I hadn’t already dropped grimoires off in before. I liked Spain.

As soon as I drove out onto the roads of Seville, a burst of warm air enveloped me despite the stars twinkling up above. Even with winter approaching, the heat in Spain tended to linger, and that was to say nothing of the glorious amounts of sun it experienced. Maybe this was somewhere to consider moving to if I decided to leave.

I zipped through the streets, careful to meander around the many cats that crossed my path, unbothered by the loud engine on my bike. Once I had parked up next to the postal lockers, I unlocked one and put the packaged grimoire inside, locking it up with a payment from my phone. When the lock clicked into place, I stuffed my phone back into my pocket and turned to return to my bike.

"I wouldn't move if I were you."

The familiar voice from the shadows had me whipping around on the spot. I searched the darkness for the person it belonged to, and out of the shadows stepped Shawn Donnelly. With one hand in his pocket, the other held out a wooden wand in my direction, the fiery red crystal at the end making my heart skip several beats.

A cacophony of questions wished to tumble from my mouth, but I held my tongue. If there was one thing that dancing on the edge of knives like this had taught me, it was that you limited what you said. Especially if someone in the vicinity was looking to nail you for something.

Out of all the mayhem happening in my head, one thought stood out like a diamond in a coal pile. I had expected him tofollow me, but not threaten me with magic. What had he learned that made him think he could hold me at wand-point?

"What are you doing here?" I asked. "And what are you doing withthat?"

He was cute if he thought the wand made him look intimidating.

"I know it was you who stole Troy Franklin's power." Shawn took several slow steps toward me. "With the help of your little grimalkin friend."

I kept my poker face firmly on. How had the guy come to that conclusion without coming near Penny, me, or Asher? Nobody else knew. Unless... I swallowed, hard. Had Asher sold me out? No, even he wouldn't do that. Not to people like the Franklins, anyway.

"Listen." I held my hands out palms facing him. "I don't know where you're getting your intel, but I don't have that power you were asking about, and I don't know anything about a grimalkin. You're barking up the wrong tree."

"No." Shawn stopped almost right in front of me, and tapped on the door of the locker I had just shut. "I'm not."

"That wasyouwho wanted a grimoire?" I asked. "Why?"

"Because that would confirm the fact that you're indeed stealing powers to sell your merchandise, which means you have the power I suspected," he said.

My eyes narrowed. I never put my real name up on that page. He had really done his research to find the serviceIran without any identification connecting me to it.

"Where did you even get the idea that I had that power in the first place?" I asked, slowly lowering my hands.

"That would be me." From out of the shadows, a pair of high heels clicked their owner into the pool of a streetlight's glare.

Wearing a fur lined trench coat, a fancy handbag swung off her arm, and her red curls bounced with each step. It was all I coulddo to stop my heart jumping out through my throat and tearing off down the street.

"Louisa," I hissed. My cousin and lifelong enemy growing up; Louisa Bishop.

Chapter 30

None of this made sense.

How had Shawn Donnelly gotten in touch with my family? I had changed my name and sworn off going anywhere I might accidentally run into them.

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