Illicit Magic (Book 1, Stella Mayweather Series)

by Camilla Chafer

  ~

  The week progressed in the same way. I took a lesson with Evan first, my frustration rising as the time passed without event; then a lesson with David which was more enjoyable because I could make little things happen. Following the little orb of light I created from my first spell, there was a protection spell and other little things that were enjoyable to do. Then it was lunch and free time. Once I went back to the beach and walked out my frustration of simply not knowing anything - the council, what I had to learn, my future - they were all enigmas to me. Another time, I snoozed on my bed. A couple of times I unwrapped the headphones of my MP3 player and listened to music as I curled on the window seat, my head leant against the pane.

  The evenings were spent in a cycle of the same things; cards in the kitchen after dinner or watching a movie in the living room. Sometimes I let Kitty braid my hair and we talked about girly things that were as far removed from our life of magic as could be.

  Some evenings I spent in the library, curled up with Marc talking about books we’d read and our lives. It was pleasant and relaxing and I could feel myself growing attached to both of them in a way that I had never felt attached to anyone before.

  Maybe it was because we weren’t part of a ready-made group like Étoile and Seren, or Christy and Clara who kept largely to themselves. Kitty and Marc seemed so open and lively that I enjoyed being around them no end. I still noticed that Kitty and Marc were scrupulously polite around each other and thought that one day I would have to ask what their deal was.

  Even David and Jared seemed to have teamed up, somewhat incongruously. Once, during one of our evenings crowded around a film, I snuck glances at Evan like I could figure him out if I got just one more look. Sometimes I felt his eyes on me too but only once or twice did our eyes meet, making me colour under his gaze.

  By the end of the second week, I was fed up and my nerves were frayed. I hadn’t teleported even an inch – not even accidentally – and the objects Evan set before me stayed just where they were, despite the minor triumph I’d had on my first day.

  So I was grumpy and fed up when it was suggested that afternoon that we go out to a local bar for dinner. If I could have worked out who came up with the original suggestion, I would have gladly hugged them for giving me something fun to look forward too.

  Evan had even waved me away that morning, brushing off the thought of a Friday afternoon lesson in favour of reading in the big sitting room, rather than putting up with another fruitless lesson with yours truly, not that he said that in so many words.

  By early evening, we had all gravitated towards the living room and I found myself perched on the furthest sofa from the door, half turned away from Evan, with Étoile between us and Kitty crouched on the floor, painting her toenails a bronze shade. My feelings of frustration seemed to be having company. Everyone had the dull expressions of the overworked and underplayed.

  Even David, normally so enthusiastic and chilled, was flagging and had snapped at everyone in today’s lesson. He kept rubbing the long scar across his face like it was bothering him and I wondered why he didn’t just ask Étoile to heal him. Clara and Christy were still ignoring him after the lesson in which he had been brusque and short. Marc had been flicking through the DVDs without much interest while Jared undertook some kind of monologue at him that seemed to include a lot of enthusiastic waving of his hands and the occasional nod from Marc.

  According to Kitty, who was chattering as she swept the brush over her toes, the bar had a real live band playing that night and served the best steak in town. I wondered if she had ever been there, before my arrival, of course, and guessed she must have; but I didn’t ask as the idea would have laid upon eagerly by our little group of civilization-starved people.

  “What should I wear?” I asked Kitty quietly. She had tucked away her nail polish in a little bag and grasped my hands to pull me upstairs in a playful way that made me laugh. She was bubbling over with enthusiasm at the idea of going out.

  As she pulled me along behind her, I glanced over my shoulder and caught not Marc’s eyes but Evan’s. He had remained on the sofa, his big arm resting on the side, a thumb marking the page of his book. He smiled at me and my heart did that stupid flutter thing. A smile crept onto my face before Kitty swept me away again, bounding up the stairs two at a time, so fast I could barely keep up.

  “Jeans,” she pronounced, flicking through the hangers in my closet, a pout forming on her Cupid’s mouth. “And more jeans. And, ooh, t-shirts. Sexy.” The last word came out with a little snort.

  “It’s not like I’ve had much time for shopping,” I replied with a shrug. Truth be told, my wardrobe was not exactly exciting to me either. Thanks to my parents, I had a nice stash of cash that had been squirreled away for years accruing interest but I’d had no time to spend any. Plus, as I reminded myself, the money should be spent on something useful and there might come a day when I really needed it. I wasn’t a particularly frivolous person and had never really indulged myself. I bought serviceable all-weather clothes, not going out stuff.

  “Wait here. You can wear something of mine.” Kitty darted out of the room and across the landing to hers. I could hear her footsteps padding none too delicately around her room and then back again. She held up three hangers. There was a slinky, blue jersey with a v-neck, a strappy, green top with a crystal motif and a white Grecian top with one sleeve and a gathered bodice. “Try them on,” Kitty urged and she looked so excited about the idea of dressing me that I could hardly say no.

  I slipped out of my shirt so I stood in my jeans and bra and shrugged on the blue, catching sight of the plunging neckline in the mirror and whipping it off, just as fast. “Not me,” I pronounced, shaking my head at the strappy, green top next. I pulled on the white top and Kitty reached forward to arrange the hem.

  “You could wear it with your skinny jeans and those cute flats of yours and it will look pretty, but not dressy.” She spun me around so I was in front of the long mirror. Behind me, she tugged my hair out of its ponytail and ran her fingers through it so it fanned over my shoulders in waves. She had trimmed the singed ends for me and it looked healthy again. “We could curl it just a little, so it looks natural, you know. Or maybe put in a couple of plaits, hippy style.” Kitty twisted my hair in her hands so it curled slightly. “I can do your makeup. What do you think?”

  “I think where were you when I was a teenager and needed someone to sort me out?” I laughed but I couldn’t take my eyes off myself. I looked tall and strong and the top made me want to stand a little straighter. I had firm breasts and a slim waist and arms that were toned but not frighteningly muscular and hair (a true golden brown) that framed cream skin. I looked pretty, I relished with pride and wondered if I was about to shed a tear. Get a grip. It was like I had never seen myself look halfway decent before.

  “Well, now,” said Kitty, slipping her arm about my waist and giving me a squeeze. “You would think you’d never put on something pretty before.”

  “I haven’t,” I admitted. “I’m a jeans and tee girl. I wore regular, dowdy, boring things to my regular, dowdy, boring jobs. I don’t... I didn’t... go out much.” It surprised me a bit how ready I was to talk about my life in the past tense and I was chagrined to admit just how uninteresting it had been. Maybe that would change. I hoped it would. Everyone deserved a fresh start, especially when someone was trying to kill them. I shook the thought from my head. I didn’t want to be reminded of that now.

  “Life is one hundred percent different for you,” replied Kitty, her hands on my shoulders as she spoke to my reflection. “Why don’t you let yourself be a few percent different too? Try out something different.”

  “Will you take me shopping?” I asked, surprising myself.

  “Thought you’d never ask. Tomorrow?” Kitty was clapping her hands together and I laughed.

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to get out of lessons. Evan is a task master.”

  “We coul
d get him incredibly drunk tonight,” Kitty suggested, “then maybe he’ll just sleep through and forget all about classes.”

  I gasped in feigned outrage and went to wriggle out of Kitty’s white top, tying a bathrobe about me instead as I pulled off my jeans and tossed them in the basket. “I can’t believe you would suggest such a thing. Besides,” I shrugged as I knotted the belt. “I do need the lessons.” And I kind of liked being around Evan but I didn’t say that out loud.

  Kitty cocked an eyebrow. “We could just mention it’s Saturday tomorrow and we all deserve the time off.” She turned to fiddle with something on my dresser and added after a moment, “He is rather nice to look at.”

  I rolled my eyes. She could be so sly. “It’s not that. Well, it is that a bit. He is good looking. Very.” I was in danger of getting sidetracked and shrugged off the thought. “Most of all, I like what he’s teaching me. I’ve never had anyone teach me before. I’ve never been able to control anything; I still can’t make myself do what I want to do, but I’ve noticed that I haven’t caused accidents, so I am more focused. If I’m cross, I don’t accidentally hurt someone. You have no idea what a relief that is.”

  “I can guess. It’s not been easy for any of us, but most have had family around to teach us from birth the right way to use our gifts. Well, not that my family was great, but at least they had something of a clue and they did get me help when I needed it.”

  “Do you really see it as a gift?”

  “If by ‘it’ you mean the various things we can do, the telepathy, the telekinesis, the zapping and everything else, then yes, it is an absolute gift and even when it’s been tough, I wouldn’t be who I am without it, without this world of ours.”

  “You’re happy?” I didn’t know if I was asking a question or making a statement.

  “Just like any other regular girl.” Kitty gathered up the rejected tops and took the white one from me to hang on a hanger on my closet handle. “I have to go get changed too. Remember skinny jeans, cream flats. Totally cute. I’ll come back and do your hair in twenty, ‘kay?”

  “Thank you, Kitty.”

  “My pleasure.”

  I calculated that I would have enough time to shower and wash my hair in those few minutes if I hurried, and I hurry I did, scrubbing and sluicing water and shampoo through my hair until I felt squeaky clean. I towelled off and rubbed cream into my skin from the little flowered bottle that had been left in the basket by the sink. I put on new underwear and a bra without straps, seeing as the one-shouldered look would be difficult to pull off with a regular bra, and slipped on the skinny jeans Kitty had pointed out, then shimmied on her white top. The flats were at the bottom of the closet and I slipped them on as I looked at myself again in the mirror and indulged myself with a twirl.

  Who would have thought that not only was the lonely girl from London actually getting ready for a night out, but that she looked pretty damn good too? I smiled and the mirror me smiled back.

  Kitty knocked before slipping inside. She was wielding a hot hair wand and a square metal box with a handle, which she set on my dresser and popped open to reveal tubes and pots and square trays of colour. Apparently makeup was serious business for Kitty.

  “I’ll dry your hair first.” Kitty directed me to sit on the chair, which she put in front of the mirror and stood behind me with the hairdryer as she brushed and steamed my hair dry. When it was straight, she teased soft waves into it that fell around my face in an oh-so-casual way. I would have to ask her how to do stuff like that. She fiddled in her case. “You’re lucky you have great skin so we’ll just put a little shadow and a slick of mascara, the barest lip gloss, just a touch of extra colour on your cheeks. Nothing too much, just a little extra.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  “Oh, pah. You know I like doing this stuff.” Kitty waved my thanks away as she closed my eyes with her finger and swept on the shadow in neat strokes, directing me to look up so she could brush on the mascara. She deposited the wand back in the tube and laid it carefully in its place before plucking out a soft tube of pale pink gloss. “I’ll just squeeze a little on your lips then you need to rub it around, okay?” She mimicked mashing her lips together and I copied her to move the gloss around.

  “Actually, I wanted to do hair and makeup, maybe do some styling, as a job but this magic stuff took priority.” She didn’t seem too upset about her strange change of a career, if I could call it that.

  Kitty stood back to admire her handiwork. She grinned. “Well, it’s not like the canvas was a bad one to start with but you do look pretty good to me. You’re going to knock someone’s socks off tonight.”

  “I don’t think I could knock anyone’s socks off,” I replied, wondering if she meant Marc, whom I’d surprised myself by not thinking about all day. He had spent the last couple of days with his phone almost glued to his ear but never shared what he was doing. He seemed cagey when I’d asked.

  “Sure you can,” said Kitty sliding onto the bench by the dresser and checking out her own perfect makeup with a long, considered look. She twisted to face me. “You really have no idea how pretty you are, do you?”

  “I think you are the nicest person,” I grinned. “And a great confidence booster.”

  Kitty snorted. She stood and tiptoed in a circle. “Enough about you, how do I look?”

  “Sensational.” And, of course, she did. She had changed into white shorts, cut to just above the knee, with a tan leather belt and a pale brown vest. She’d swung a long gold chain round her neck and knotted it near the end. She wore white Chucks and looked the picture of preppy chic. “But we should get going.”

  “After you,” Kitty turned the handle and pulled the door towards her as I darted out. If only I’d looked first, I wouldn’t have ended up barrelling into Evan and stumbling backwards, because there was no way a body bound with muscles like his was going to give way.

  My cheeks burned as I ricocheted back into my room. “I’m sorry, I didn’t look.”

  “No damage,” he shrugged, like he barely noticed. “After you.”

  Kitty danced out behind me. I smiled apologetically at Evan as Kitty grabbed my hand and tugged me after her, not giving him an inch to pass.

  Half our little party were waiting already. Marc was leaning against the hallway, wearing his usual jeans and an open-necked shirt. Étoile was standing straight like a slightly bored, albeit very well dressed, statue. She was wearing a floor-length dress in a cotton print with a tan belt cinching it in at the waist. Seren was wearing the same dress in a different colour. Both smiled at me and rolled their eyes slightly at Kitty’s illimitable enthusiasm.

  Evan stepped down next and slipped past us to walk to the kitchen and back again, Jared and David in tow. Within minutes, the hallway was positively crowded and we shuffled out with a wave from Meg who mentioned something about going for an evening stroll. I didn’t miss the look Étoile and Seren exchanged at that.

  Kitty hooked her arm through mine. “The bar isn’t far so we’ll just walk over.”

  “Do you guys go there often?” I realised this was my first time off the property since my arrival. No wonder I was feeling antsy.

  “Now and again, when we’re in town.” She stifled a laugh and leaned in to whisper. “The locals think we’re a yoga retreat. That could be believable, but what do you think Evan does here? He’s not exactly the Rising Sun type of guy is he?”

  I snuck a glance over my shoulder and looked at Evan, deep in conversation with David. I had to agree with Kitty. I couldn’t imagine him lycra-clad, bending and stretching. Oh ... maybe I could. Hmm. I turned my face away quickly when he looked up.

  The bar, like Kitty said, wasn’t far and it took us less than twenty minutes to walk there. It was a wooden building with double doors to the front and “Rusty’s” in big painted letters on a sign over the top.

  The few patrons barely glanced in our direction as we entered the bar. Thankfully, it was still early and largely
empty so we could spread out across one of the larger tables while the band tuned up on the small stage at the other side of the bar.

  There was a menu that Étoile picked up, seeming almost amused by the choice of fast food, which was basic but relatively cheap. At least, I thought it was with my limited fiscal knowledge. Seren found a waitress with a cocktail menu, which she regarded with the same curiosity as her sister before smiling at the waitress and ordering, rather unexpectedly (to me at least) a beer.

  The waitress stayed for the rest of us to add our orders. I was one of two to get ID’d, after it was established that Jared could stay but not drink. I was grateful I’d stuffed my driver’s licence in my pocket before we left along with some dollar bills. I’d been practising telling the notes apart, like a tourist.

  “You can’t be too careful,” the waitress said, comparing my picture to my face. She had a soft rounded face and hair straight from the eighties. “We can get fined big time and a few of those would finish us off, so I check out all you pretty young things now.”

  “I’m just glad I don’t look as worn out as my friends here,” I quipped and was rewarded with a shower of beer mats hurled from every direction. I tossed them on the table in good humour and when Evan caught my eye, he was laughing too. This catching eyes thing was starting to get far too regular. Marc, however, couldn’t have looked more sour and scowled at me. What the hell had I done to him? I turned away and lost myself in the chatter of ordering food.

  Less than an hour later, our plates pushed aside and the baskets of fries nearly devoured, second round of drinks on the table, and the band were in full swing. They played a mix of covers and a few of their own songs, which, though not well written, were played and received enthusiastically. They seemed to be pretty popular in the neighbourhood. I had drained my second wine by the time they took their encore bows in front of the rapturous little crowd and left the stage to take up a corner at the bar to receive their adulation in state.

  The jukebox kicked in with a country song that the older regulars clearly knew, judging by the sing-a-long going on in one corner.

  “Are you having fun?” Evan slid into the empty chair next to me. Christy and Clara had been on the dance floor, bouncing to the music as soon as they finished eating, leaving the seats around me free.

  “Yes, I think I am.”

  “You think or you are?”

  I thought for a moment. “I am,” I decided.

  “Good. It’s nice to be out.”

  “You don’t go out much?”

  “I’m no recluse,” Evan laughed, “I do go out but I’m a little short of time right now. So, I go out when I can. Let my hair down.” He ran a hand through his short crop to demonstrate and I smiled.

  “What do you do for down time otherwise? When you’re not out, or being busy?”

  “I read a lot. And listen to music. I have my laptop here with me so sometimes I watch DVDs in my room.”

  “What do you like reading?”

  “Mysteries mostly, a little crime or a comedy. I like stuff that makes me think or laugh.”

  “Sounds like a good combination.”

  “It is.” Evan took a sip of his beer. “What have you been doing in your down time?”

  “Actually, nothing much. I didn’t bring a lot here with me and I haven’t really found time to get a library ticket,” I joked. “So, I’ve been watching TV with the others when it’s on in the evening and sometimes I just daydream a bit when I want to be quiet. I have an MP3 player and sometimes I walk on the beach.”

  “Want to borrow a book?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “I’ll get some for you tomorrow.”

  “I would appreciate it. Funny ones though, please. There’s enough tragedy in the world without me having to read it for entertainment.” I thought this was the first time we had had a conversation that didn’t revolve around magic; perhaps he was warming to me. Interesting.

  “Consider it done.” He took another sip. “You’ve been tapping your feet the past half hour. Do you like to dance?”

  “Actually I do.”

  “Do you want to dance now?”

  I tipped my head to one side and listened to what was playing. Johnny Cash was booming out and I knew the song so I nodded and Evan surprised me by taking my hand in his own large one and leading me to the dance floor by the stage. As we got there, Cash clicked off and a slow, Iron and Wine song started up. Evan wasn’t remotely phased and though I had half a mind to go sit down again, my cheeks beet red, that would have looked silly. Besides, I liked dancing and I couldn’t object to being on a dance floor with the type of guy who made girls’ hearts melt. Wow. Talk about over thinking things.

  Evan put his hand about my waist and, though we were stiff for the first few bars, as soon as I forgot about the rest of the room and lost myself in the rhythm, I felt comfortable with him. Evan was a nice dancer. Though clearly taller than anyone in the room and muscular – I could feel his shoulders ripple under my palms as he moved – he held the beat and moved without any awkwardness. I wondered if he had always been this way or if he had once been a gangly, uncoordinated youth who had learned to be graceful.

  Heat emanated from him as the second song – another slow one – clicked on. I rested my head against his chest, purely for a moment but Evan circled his arms around me a little tighter and held me there, swaying with me in time to the music. I didn’t want to move so I left my head like that and sighed. I felt a little burst of happiness at being held by Evan and tried to swallow it down. My head swam with the thoughts I’d had the first time I met him. Oh, hell.

  “Tired?” he whispered, his breath tickling my hair.

  “No. Warm.” I wasn’t sure I could trust myself to say anything else.

  “Me too.”

  “I’m a radiator all right.”

  “I was thinking like a hot water bottle.”

  “You want to put your cold feet on me?”

  “No! I was thinking you’re kind of small and I could tuck you up and ...” Evan trailed off and I stifled a giggle. He exhaled and I could feel the reassuring thud-thud of his heart in his chest against my ear. “I don’t have cold feet,” he murmured and for a moment I wondered what he was talking about.

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “I hate to interrupt,” said Étoile from behind my back as Evan loosened his arms slightly, almost regretfully, I thought. “But we’re going to head back. Are you coming or are you going to stand here and hug?”

  “We’re dancing,” I replied.

  “You have to move to dance.” Étoile was amused. “You are hugging.”

  Evan’s arms relaxed and I stepped away from him, feeling my cheeks flush as I let my arms drop to my sides. What had gotten into us?

  “Besides,” Étoile continued in her off hand way. “The jukebox seems to be stuck on slow stuff. Marc kicked it, several times actually, but apparently that didn’t fix anything.” She raised an eyebrow and looked squarely at Evan who shrugged and faced her down.

  “I guess I’ll head back too,” I said, waving at Kitty who was lingering by the door.

  “We’ll all go,” agreed Evan following me, before sidling to the front and holding the door open for us.

  Kitty had already skipped ahead to where Marc was waiting outside, leaning against the railings, his hands thrust into his pockets. He turned and followed her without a look at me. Étoile was herding the girls and Jared like a mother hen, all feather-light until one of them strayed and she had to nip them back into order.

  I stepped off the porch after them and shivered. The evening had turned cold and the heat of the bar rushed back inside the closed doors. The jukebox had clicked over to something more up tempo and the heavy beat drifted through the doors.

  “Did you bring a jacket?” Evan asked, stepping onto the ground beside me. I rather thought he was counting heads as much as he was checking I was fine.

  I shook my head. “Di
dn’t think to.”

  “Here. Take mine.” Evan draped his jacket over my shoulders before I could refuse, but once it was on, I was grateful to escape the nip in the air.

  He surprised me by saying, “Tell me about London.”

  “Not much to tell. Big city, Queen, lots of people.”

  “I meant about your life there.”

  “I grew up in foster care for pretty much as long as I can remember. Mostly nice people but I wasn’t theirs and I wasn’t the easiest kid to look after.” I didn’t elaborate about the long string of “accidents.” I’d mentioned some to Evan already. “After I left school, I worked in a series of temp jobs. I had a little place that I rented, nothing great.”

  “You leave a lot of friends behind?” We started to amble after the others, but didn’t try and shorten the distance between.

  I paused. “No.” Hell, I hadn’t left anybody behind. I didn’t know if that was depressing or lucky. I wondered if my temp manager was wondering where I was.

  “You had to leave pretty quickly, I hear.”

  I wondered how much Evan knew, if the Bartholomews or Étoile had briefed him, but I answered his not-quite-a-question anyway, with a flick of my hand. “Étoile just swept in one night and swept me out. Pretty much in the nick of time, as they say. I was being chased. They were probably going to kill me.” I shrugged, nonchalantly I thought, like it hadn’t mattered that I was terrified at being chased by a gang of thugs who wanted to hunt me down and burn me alive at the stake.

  “You’ve had to deal with a lot of shit.”

  “Yep.”

  “I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

  “Really?” I looked up at him.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Evan draped his arm casually round my shoulder and rubbed my arm through his jacket as if it were a completely natural thing to do. I leaned into his warmth, but held my hands, slightly awkwardly, in front of me. My comfort at being so close to him was starting to make me question myself; I wondered if I was enjoying his touch a little too much. There could have been rules against this sort of thing for all I knew. “I like who I am and I like the people I’m with, for the most part, but I wouldn’t wish fear and pain on anyone. It just seems to be part of the supernatural world.”

  “I see what you mean,” I said, though I wasn’t feeling terrific about the last bit of that. “I like the people we are too, and no, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone either.”

  We didn’t speak again but a few minutes later we turned onto the driveway. The porch light was on and the door had been left ajar. We must have dawdled to have lagged so far behind the rest of our group. Stepping onto the porch, I slipped off Evan’s jacket and handed it back to him with a thanks.

  “Any time,” he replied.

  “See you tomorrow.”

  “Bright and early.” He wasn’t making a move to leave, I noted. I couldn’t help stare into his eyes, my heart speeding up a fraction as I realised with a rush that I didn’t want this to end. I wanted Evan near me, maybe even closer than when he held me while we danced. I wondered if he could hear the little thuds my heart was booming.

  “Kitty hoped to get you horribly drunk so we could all have a lie-in,” I blurted. Sheesh. What a doofus! And to think I’d been doing so well. I stared at my shoes.

  Once again, Evan surprised me by laughing and his face was easy and worry-free. “I wondered why she kept refilling my glass. Have a lie-in. You deserve one.”

  It was my turn to be surprised. “Really?”

  “Stella, I know this past couple of weeks seems like a whole lot of nothing but you have been learning, even if you don’t realise it.”

  “And I was thinking you loathed me.”

  “Definitely not.” Evan leaned forward and I caught my breath as I turned my chin up to look at him. He looked so far into my eyes I felt like I was melting into pools of... yum. I didn’t know what I expected. No, I did. I knew exactly what I was waiting for but instead, he kissed me lightly on the cheek and went inside. I was rooted to the spot for a moment and, by the time I followed him in, he was gone, so I scampered up the stairs. Kitty was coming out of my room with her makeup box and tongs and she waggled her fingers in a goodnight gesture as she faked a yawn. I knew I should have asked if Marc had gone to bed, but I didn’t. He stormed off and hadn’t bothered to say goodnight; but then, I’d dawdled with Evan and, well ... I’d just have to see him tomorrow.

  I brushed my teeth quickly and changed into my pyjamas. I had just pulled back the covers when there was a faint knock at the door. I tugged it open but there was no one there, and no one on the landing. Just as I wondered if I was imagining it, the little pile of books at my feet caught my eye and I stooped down to pick them up. Four well-thumbed mysteries, their covers creased with age, and sitting on top was an iPod with headphones wrapped around it.

  I smiled and kicked the door shut, setting the bundle on my table next to the posy of flowers I’d picked a couple of days ago from the garden. The roses had bloomed, soft white petals clustered loosely about each other. An idea pinged into my head.

  I plucked one of the white roses from the vase and sat on my bed, twisting the stem between my fingertips. White roses meant friendship, right?

  Focusing on the flower and where I wanted it to be, I lulled myself into concentration and sent it vanishing into the ether before I even really thought about what I was doing.

  From down the hall, I was sure I heard Evan laugh and that took my mind away from the thought that something had been watching us, out there in the half-light of nightfall.