Page 70 of These Witches Don't Burn
The smile falls from Benton’s face. “Oh, no. That’s all right.” He steps back, toward the exit. “I appreciate the offer.” He checks his phone. “But I really need to head out. Maybe another time?”
“Of course.” Lauren tilts her head as she watches Benton disappear through the front door. “You know, Hannah, if you ever want a tarot reading of your own, you’ve earned one. On the house.” My boss turns away as a customer approaches. “Can I help you?” She follows the older woman to the wand case, pulling the keys from her pocket.
Cal slips back behind the counter. “How did those crystal balls really break?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve been around long enough to recognize when you’re spinning a story for Lauren. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. You aren’t going to tell Lauren I lied, are you?”
Cal shakes his head. “What happened?”
“Remember that video you sent me last night?” I ask, and when Cal nods, I continue. “The guy from the video, Nolan? He was just in here.”
The color drains from Cal’s face. “He was here? I’m so sorry,Hannah. If I had noticed him come in, I would have...” He trails off, either unsure or unwilling to share what he would have done. “Are you okay? Did he threaten you?”
“Not really.” Cal’s been great these past couple weeks, but there are already too many Regs involved in this mess. I can’t drag him in, too.
But Cal’s not buying it. “‘Not really’ doesn’t mean ‘no.’ Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to say something to Lauren?”
A customer approaches, cutting off our conversation. We work together to ring her up, and when she’s gone, I assure Cal that I’m fine. He presses me to tell Detective Archer, and I agree. He already knows about the video, and I was planning to update him anyway.
I need this Hunter caught so I can stop suspecting everyone I know of trying to kill me.
20
“ARE YOU REALLY GOINGto wear that?”
“What’s wrong with it?” I glance down at my outfit. I’m wearing my favorite jeans—well, second favorite. Myfavoritepair met an early death after that whole blood-on-an-old-receipt thing—and a black T-shirt with a Rubik’s Cube design on it. “We’re just going hiking.”
Gemma leans heavily on her crutches and tilts her head to one side. Her eyes squint as she scrutinizes my outfit. “Take the shirt off. It’s ridiculous.” She maneuvers over to the closet and picks through my clothes. “Don’t you have anything in here besides T-shirts?”
“Not much.” I slide the shirt over my head and toss it in the corner with the rest of the clothes Gemma vetoed. “There are some plaid button-ups in there.”
Hangers zip across the metal bar as Gemma picks through my options. “Would it kill you to buy something with a little structure?”
“I have a couple of V-neck tees. Does that count?”
“Barely.” Gemma pulls out a soft blue V-neck and tosses it to me. It’s one of the few shirts I own that doesn’t have some sort of graphic on the front.
“Are you sure?” I ask as I pull it over my head. “Isn’t it kind of boring?”
Gemma appraises me when I’m fully dressed, making me turn so she can get a 360-degree view. “Nope, it’s perfect. Though we could have done a little more with your hair this morning.”
I flop onto my bed and stare up at the ceiling. I’m starting to regret my decision to let Gemma help me get ready. “This isn’t prom, Gem. It’s a walk in the woods. I don’t need to go all out.”
“Ooh, do you think you’ll take Morgan to prom next year? Are you going to rock a suit again like you did with Veronica, or will you both wear dresses this time?” Gemma falls silent for a moment then curses under her breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned you-know-who.”
“Veronica and I are old news. It’s fine.”
Gemma’s crutches creak as she crosses the room to join me on the bed. “Wow. Look at you being over your ex. I guess meeting someone new will do that.”
“Well, thatiswhat the infamous They always say. But could we stop with the fanciful leaps into the future? Morgan and I have been on one date. Half a date, actually, since I had to bail to deal with the Witch Hunter problem.” It still feels weird—and amazing—to be so open with her about the witchy parts of my life.
“Speaking of which, have you thought about what to tell Morgan?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, a clear warning threaded through my tone. Gemma knows I can’t tell Morgan about any of this. I bend over and pull out the shoe organizer from under my bed, searching for a pair that’ll be good for the hike but isn’t hideous.
“Look, I know you can’t tell her about the witch thing.” Gemma sayswitchlike I’m in some weird cult. “But she deserves to know someone might be after you.”
“Gemma, we’ve talked about this.” I stand and pace the room, avoiding my best friend’s increasingly accusatory gaze. “Besides, I’d say the car crash is a pretty clear indication that someone is ‘after me.’”
