Page 4 of Sigils & Spells

The woman tenses her shoulders, her lips pursing.

“I know enough,” she says, her gaze breaking from mine.

“I just…” I can’t explain the need, the desire in me to protect this stranger. I understand all too well the draw of the darkness, the shadowy things in life, but I also know my path here is out of necessity.

This pale-skinned, pretty little witch could have anything she wants–any job, any man–and yet she’s here. Why?

Before I can finish my sentence, the door opens, and I see him. Ivan fucking Cambridge. He looks at the both of us until finally his gaze settles on me and he speaks.

“Angelo Rodriguez?” he asks, his voice gruff. I nod.

“Angel is fine, sir.” I sit up straighter.

“Come with me, Angel. We have much to discuss,” he says as I get up, setting one foot in front of the other. I stop for a moment, turning around as the woman speaks, drawing my attention.

“Good luck, Angel,” she says with a smile. I nod in response, feeling nervous all of a sudden.

“Thanks,” I say as I follow Ivan Cambridge down a dark corridor, knowing there’s no turning back now.

CHAPTER3

EVIE

As I sitin his office for my interview, I realize that Ivan Cambridge’s aura is even less stable today than it was at Deja Brew two days ago. It crackles and flickers, slipping in and out of my second sight like a strobe light.

“You’re a shifter, right?” I ask as I settle into a seat across from his broad desk. For a brief moment, I wonder where the gorgeous Hispanic guy went--I didn’t see him leave Cambridge’s office.

Then my potential boss answers my question, drawing my attention back to him.

“A shifter of a sort,” he says. “Why do you ask?”

He already knows about my magic, so with a shrug, I tell him. “You don’t see it. But most shifters don’t have the same kind of energy that you do.”

He laughs. “I’m sure they don’t. Most shifters like me don’t survive very long.”

I blink, surprised by his comment. “Are you concerned that you’re going to die?”

This time, he laughs aloud, throwing his head back.

Something about the reaction spooks me.

“I’m not kidding,” I say.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re not. It just struck me as funny. No, I’m not afraid of going to die. I have been a shifter for almost fifteen years now.”

“Where were you attacked?” I ask.

“I wasn’t attacked at all. I did this to myself.”

“But… how is that possible?”

“That’s why I brought you in to interview, actually. So let’s go ahead and get started?”

“Sure,” I say.

The interview is innocuous enough. Cambridge begins by asking me about magic and how it works. “I mean, I saw what you did with the coffee machine. Could you do something similar with a person?”

“Not exactly. I mean… I can’t just touch someone and have the magic work. It has to be channeled, contained, shaped into something useful. Sometimes I can do that by using my own will—like with small healing spells and fixing the coffee maker. The rest of the time? It takes more than that. I have to channel the magic into a container of some sort. That could be a charm if it’s relatively small. But physical items don’t have much space for magic—they don’t hold much. It’s like the molecules are bound too tightly together and magic fills it all up. It starts overflowing pretty quickly.”

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