Page 12 of A Witchy Spell Ride
And I hadn’t knocked the charm off the nightstand.
Something twisted in my chest. That sick little tug that reminded me not everything was in my control.
I set my coffee down. “Okay. Let’s say someone was here.”
Briar folds her arms. “Okay.”
“How the hell would they get in?”
She points to the window. “Wards only work if the person means you harm. If he’s convinced himself, he doesn’t…”
My stomach flips again.
“And the front door?” I ask quietly.
“You triple locked it, right?”
“Yes.”
Briar walked over to the door and stares at the handle.
“What?”
She doesn’t answer. She touches the top lock, pulls it gently and it clicks, not locked.
I swallow hard. “I swear—”
“I believe you.”
“Maybe I forgot. Maybe—”
“Selene.”
Her voice is sharper now. Rare.
“You didn’t forget.”
I turn away, anxiety buzzing like static beneath my skin. “Don’t say it.”
“You need to tell Reaper.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?!”
“Because he’ll go scorched earth, Briar. You know him.”
“I also know that’s what you need right now.”
I meet her eyes. “I need space. I need time. I need to figure out who the hell is doing this before Reaper blows the whole damn Quarter off the map.”
She doesn’t like it. But she doesn’t argue. Not right then.
We stop by the clubhouse later that morning. I have to drop off some charm jars for Thorne’s girl; she is having nightmares again. Carrying them in a box, I feel like the witchy errand girl,though my insides are wired tighter than the thread around that charm.
Ghost ain’t around, which should make things easier.
But instead, I walk straight into Reaper.
