Page 21 of Stolen Magic
“I’m not half druid, I swear. One hundred percent sorceress right here.” Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she sat up, and all the humor drained from her face. “I never mentioned him to you because if I did, it would mean I acknowledged my attraction to him. Actually, until this very moment, I was doing great living in denial. Now it’s out in the universe since I said it out loud.” Her mouth twisted into a grimace.
“Is he a psycho?” I leaned forward, draping my forearms over my knees. “Because, let me tell you this. If he is some stalker dude, I’m going to take him down before I die, I promise you that much. Druid or not, I’ll bury him next to those wilting flowers on his window.”
“I love you for it, Allie, but no, he is not a psycho stalker.” Tears welled in her eyes again, but her smile was bright.
“You think he doesn’t like you like that?” I ducked my head to stare at her incredulously. “The guy was practically salivating the moment he saw you, Char. A blind person could see it.” The longer I thought about it, the more the idea of the two of them seemed appealing. If I was going to be killed, at least Char wouldn’t be alone.
She’d need someone after I died.
I knew she wouldn’t be able to handle it alone.
“I know he likes me likethat.” Her face bloomed with a dusky red color, making her cheeks redder than before. “The problem is, he likes a lot of women the same way. I don’t like him in a way to only have a casual fling, unfortunately.”
Everything she said was valid if my death was not looming over my head. Casual or not, Damian was the perfect person to be around Char if the shifter’s wish came true.
“Call him to let him know where we are.” My sudden lack of jabs made her suspicions spike. “You promised him, and I just remembered. I have a ton of things on my mind.” The reminder of Dimitri Bell had her ruffling inside her tote in the blink of an eye.
I stretched out on the bed and stared unseeing at the ceiling while she spoke briefly to the druid. Wanting to give my friend some space, I rolled off the mattress and went to the small bathroom, closing the door behind me. Char’s voice drifted after me through the thin walls, but at least she had some semblance of privacy. I was sure I’d hear about it when I emerged, but I was fine with that.
The woman staring back at me from the cracked mirror above the sink didn’t look familiar at all. The diagonal line split my reflection in two, distorting it enough to change my features. One thing that was the same was the defeated look in my eyes. Even my irises seemed strange, a paler green somehow. My hair was dull and plastered around my head in matted clumps. The ocean water hadn’t done me any favors, and for a moment, I wondered what the druid had thought when I’d stepped inside his home like this. Damian didn’t even blink strangely at my appearance. Char hadn’t fared much better, but if anyone could pull off an almost drowned look and make it a new thing, it was my friend. She had the ability to make a hole-ridden sack look like a Versace.
“Allie.” The soft knock on the door startled me out of my thoughts. I had turned into a frightened rabbit in the last week or so, jumping at sounds constantly.
“Done?” She stepped aside when I opened the door, her blush firmly in place.
“Yeah, he said if we need anything, he is a phone call or text away.” The red on her cheekbones deepened.
“Good to know, but I don’t think we will need anything.” I snatched the duffel off the floor and tugged the zipper open. “I actually have a plan.”
“Are you going to share, or do I need to beat it out of you.” When I tried to move around her with a handful of clothes so I could take a shower and wash all the salt stuck to my skin away, she blocked my way. “You know I will.”
“First, I’m going to shower so I can feel like a normal witch. You should do it too, because we look like rats after a flood. Avoid the mirror when you go inside the bathroom.”
Her foot started tapping.
“Dimitri wants everything done on his time.” With a sigh, I hugged the bundle of fabric closer to my chest. “Everything up to this point has had perfect timing, which tells me he has something planned right at midnight tomorrow. So, I’m going to throw him off by showing up at noon tomorrow. It’s still twelve, only PM instead of AM.”
“Sounds like a good idea. We will pop in at noon and play it by ear.” With a firm nod, she stepped aside, but I snatched her arm and waited until she locked gazes with me.
“I will go at noon, Char. Alone.” Her mouth opened, but I shook my head. “Well, alone with the book. You’ll wait here or at Damian’s.”
“I can come with you, or I’ll just follow behind you.” With a twitch of her shoulder, she tugged her arm out of my grip. “It makes no difference to me. It’s not like the asswipe can transport Ice Matrix CO. from the street it’s on. Go ahead, try and leave me behind, I dare you.”
Our staring match did nothing but start a throbbing headache behind my eyes, so I relented. After a reluctant nod of agreement, I headed for the shower that was calling my name. I had dried salt in places that never should’ve seen it. As much as I dreaded having water coating me again from head to toe, I was willing to endure the discomfort.
Char was silent behind me, for which I was grateful. She’d have enough time to yell and scream tomorrow after I was gone. I’d never used my powers on Char before. We made a pact to never do that to each other. I was going to go back on a promise, and I had no doubt the betrayal would hurt my friend. But I saw no other choice if I wanted to protect her.
Maybe she’d forgive me easier since I’d be dead. Either way, I was firmly set in my decision.
I was leaving Char, fast asleep, behind.
Chapter Seventeen
Ablurry eyed sorceress met my gaze early the next morning. Char must’ve had a shower sometime after I fell asleep because I didn’t hear her, but the evidence of it was in the frizzy tendrils of her curly hair that had escaped her loosely wrapped bun. Dark smudges slashed crescents under her eyes, and her cheeks seemed sunken. Gone was the usual floor-length dress that was her go-to in terms of her personal fashion style, and in its place she wore blue jeans and a black t-shirt with “History of magic” written on it in bright orange print. I also didn’t miss the stubborn jutting of her chin while she eyed me warily.
“You’re up bright and early.” The sun was not up yet, and the harsh yellow light from outside was peeking through the slightly parted curtain of the only window in the room.
“You know me, I’m one of those morning people.” There was a rasp in her tone that told me she had not slept at all. Not that it was hard to guess, by any means.
