Page 45 of Until the Stars Fall

“No,” I breathed, “but refresh my memory anyway.”

He kissed me, his hand slipping warm across the bare skin of my back. Excitement erupted like fireworks through my body. I melted against him, wrapping my arms tighter around his neck, wanting to get closer, closer. The kiss began sweetly, gently, like last night’s, but then it amped up with an edge of hunger, mine matched to his.

Any doubts I had dissolved with his arms around me, leaving only a sense of rightness, of being exactly where I was supposed to be. I arched my back, pressing closer, grabbing his jawline as his hand caressed my back. He breathed a soft whimper against my mouth when I pressed my hips to his, and his hand slipped from my waist down my backside, pressing my lower belly against the hard line of his need. A delicious ache in my core, and I was kissing him harder, pulling him closer.

The women downstairs were calling my name.

Summer’s voice rose above the merriment, singing to her own tune. “Gemma, Gemma! Where are you?”

I broke away, not wanting to stop, but not wanting an audience either. He kissed me again, quickly, then pressed a warm kiss to the crook of my neck, his tongue the epicenter of sparks shooting through my body and pooling in my core, weakening my knees.

“Captain Killjoy,” he murmured in my ear. He flashed me a wicked grin before slipping into the service stairwell.

Heart pounding, I wiped my face. My lipstick was probably everywhere. Was the skin around my mouth red from the sweet abrasion of his beard?

“I’m up here!” I called, stepping to the top of the stairs and down. “I was in the bathroom,” I lied. “What’s up?”

Zola met me halfway down the stairs and put her arm around me, leading me to a table that hadn’t been there before. “It’s time for your birthday spell.”

“Birthday spell?”

Hannah dropped leaves into a cauldron on the table, and the main elevator dinged. Beck walked out of it, hands in pockets, the picture of innocence.

“What’s a birthday spell?” I asked, getting closer and suspicious.

“It’s a potion that predicts your happiness in your next year.” Zola looped her arm through mine. “Hannah’s got it about ready, and all we need is a strand of your hair.”

“A strand of my hair? Seriously?”

Eyre giggled over her pink drink. “You’re traveling with a coven, and you’re gonna ask a question like that?”

“Okay, so you put a strand of my hair in there, and what happens?”

“A multi-colored surprise!” Hannah said.

Beck arrived beside me and picked a card up from the table. “It’s a divination spell we came up with, where the colors predict your year ahead.”

Panic gripped my heart. What if it formed big red letters that read Gemma’s getting her magic taken away? Or Gemma and Beck were just making out on the mezzanine?

“What if it’s bad?” I asked. Beck turned the card toward me. I leaned in as if interested, but all I wanted was to get him alone again.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “it’s all good things. See?” He pointed at the card. Beside each swatch of color was written a single word in Hannah’s handwriting. “Gold for luck, orange for success, red for love...”

He met my eyes, the light of his desire still bright and clear, electrifying my skin.

A bright pinprick of pain stung my scalp, and Eyre walked away with one of my hairs. “Ouch! I probably have some on my dress. You could’ve asked!”

“Yes,” she said, holding my hair up and appraising it carefully. “But it could’ve been Hannah’s hair, or Beck’s hair, or my hair—” She carefully handed it over to my sister, who also treated it like highly enriched uranium being transferred to a secure location. “Have to be sure it’s yours for the spell to work right.”

“You ready?” Hannah grinned.

“I guess.” Their faces were so excited, but I was apprehensive. Beck put his hands on my waist and arm, and pulled me back from the table as the other witches backed off too. Hannah held safety glasses over her face, dropped in my hair, then scurried back ten paces, laughing, into Summer’s arms. Eyre ran over and shut off the main lights in the room, until all that was left was the strings of lights and the light of the stars outside.

The cauldron bubbled, excitement tingled the air, but all my focus was on the warmth of Beck’s hand against my back. I looked up at him. My magic had been more and more cooperative since he’d started working with me. I couldn’t tell how much was his teaching and how much was just his presence. Even with this display of magic before me, my own sat contentedly in my body, just vibing, enjoying the evening. He caught me watching him, and his face lit up. He gave my back a gentle scratch with his fingertips that lit me up from the inside.

White bubbles frothed and overflowed from the mouth of the cauldron, crackling and snapping as white sparks fizzed out in all directions. A shimmering streak of white shot up toward the high ceiling with a sizzling whoosh like fireworks, and the witches cheered. The ball of white light burst open into a magical shower of purple stars and sparkles, and rained down on us like confetti.

“Travel!” they shouted, shrieking and squealing with joy.

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