Page 54 of Dark Embers

“That’s a great point, Ashlyn,” Arya said. “If they would just let Shea into the school, her magic could help us against them.”

The vibrations in my chest began to sting, and I accepted the bitter reality that there was no way I could tell Arya about Julian, or the grimoire. She’d hate me for it. She hated the vampires as strongly as Tobias and the other shifters hated me. And she had a good reason for it, unlike the dragon asshole.

Although, I had to wonder if Tobias had some personal vendetta against witches after what he said. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he’d pissed off the wrong witch. He seemed to have a knack for pissing off every person he came across. And if he had any sort of hex placed against him, all the more reason to keep my best friend as far away from him as possible.

And all the more reason for getting into that damn school!

“I’ve decided not to give up on getting in just yet,” I commented.

Arya narrowed her eyes on me playfully. “What plan is that crazy mind of yours hatching?”

“Moi?” I asked, my hand fluttering to my chest in mock shock. “Why, I don’t knowwhatyou’re talking about.”

Arya shook her head.

“Well, if there’s anything we can do to help, just let us know,” Ashlyn said, and Arya nodded along with her. “I’m all for it.”

“Thanks.” I gave them a half smile. “Let’s hurry up and finish eating so we can get to shopping.”

“Yes!” Ashlyn agreed, and we all returned to devouring our food.

It about killed me to keep this secret from them, but I didn’t have another choice. At least, not yet. Once Julian proved himself to be trustworthy, I could work on a plan to get them to see it, too.

So far, Julian had been true to his word, and though the blood bags in his fridge were more revolting than Arya’s choice in pizza toppings, they were also reassuring. I just hoped my decision to trust him wouldn’t end up as my worst one of all.

Chapter 20

Shea

“Alright, see you later,” I called after Arya as she and Ashlyn headed to the subway.

The cloudy November sky was turning orange above the cityscape in the late afternoon sun, casting a sherbet glow on the store fronts of the Magnificent Mile. Though, even after the marathon shopping session we’d just had, I wasn’t ready to take the bus back home just yet.

I turned around and looked at the shops and cafes, trying to decide what I wanted to do with my afternoon. I had gifts for all the important people: a bottle of Gram’s favorite old lady perfume, the Lancome Ageless Skin Care set for Aunt June, a beautiful rhinestone studded mermaid hair clip for Arya, and even a kitty sweater for Julian. That man was far too serious, and I felt he needed more kitty in his life.

The dirty thought made me snicker as I strolled down the sidewalk. Geez, what was my obsession with unobtainablesupernaturalmen? Both he and Caesar were totally off-limits, totally against every rule in every book, and yet, I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about both of them. Even better, both of them at the same time.

Dammit, Shea, stop it!

I needed a distraction to get my mind out of the gutter. Seriously, it wasn’t like I’d ever have a chance with eitherguy. Caesar was the director of an elite shifter school I wasn’t allowed in, and Julian was a freaking vampire that had basically contracted me to resurrect his century-dead lover. I was hopeless.

I passed a quaint little Irish pub whose rickety hanging wooden sign readThe Shanty.

Hmm, that’s what I need right now—a few beers to make me forget about those sexy douches.

Straightening my posture and exuding old-enough-to-drink vibes, I pushed open the door and walked inside like I owned the place. The air was filled with stale cigar smoke and smelled like beer and old men, but I didn’t really care about that. I actually enjoyed the smell of cigars sometimes.

There were few patrons seated at the small round tables in the place and only one lonely-looking guy at the bar. Poor sap. It looked like I was going to be another lonely lark on that perch.

I climbed onto a stool three spots away from that guy and set my bags on the floor beside it. I folded my arms over the weathered bar top, smiling at the middle-aged bartender who was looking at me with a dubious eyebrow raised as he polished a beer mug with an even more dubious rag.

I inspected the selection of beers on the tap behind him, pleasantly spotting the iconic logo of my favorite beer.

“I’ll take a tall Blue Moon, please,” I said confidently.

The arch of the bartender’s eyebrow hiked even higher into his hairline, deepening the wrinkles in his forehead. “You got I.D.?”

“Yep.” I dug into my purse and pulled my I.D. out of its slot in my wallet.

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