Lu and I sat on the tailgate of Silver, our legs swinging, the quilt Ricky had given her across our laps. Franny had packed us beer, and it was cold, the outside of the bottle wet from melting ice.
I rubbed my thumb over the label absently, staring at the land, the sky, the huge horizon all around us.
“They could have taken the book,” Lula said.
“Raven and Bathin?”
She hummed. The book was still stored in the box the witches had given us. It was in the bed of the truck, locked in the metal tool case we’d put behind the driver’s seat.
Did it feel secure?
No.
Did it feel powerful?
Strangely, also no.
I didn’t know if it was the witch spells, Abbi’s spells, or just the fact that the book had chosen us, chosen Lu to be able to touch it, chosen me to be able to speak its spells—not that I ever intended to do such a dangerous thing.
But maybe now that it had gotten most of what it wanted, it was doing what it could to keep itself hidden.
I mean, it’d been hidden for years beneath a collapsed shed back in Illinois. I supposed it could stay hidden in our truck.
Wouldn’t that be a nice change?
“They said they can’t touch it,” I said. “Raven went on about how it would break some sort of rule of him being on vacation. Whatever that means.”
She turned the bottle between her fingers, thinking. “Trickster god and a demon.”
“Demon prince or king, or something,” I said.
“Demon prince or king,” she corrected. “Are we going to trust what they say?”
The next shot of beer went down like ice and electricity, hitting my stomach hard and spreading out a different kind of warmth.
“Agreeing to take the book to Ordinary doesn’t break our promise to Cupid,” I said.
“He’d want us to give it to him.”
“Unless he doesn’t,” I said. “He’s a god. He might already know we have it. Might not want to be more involved unless he has to be.”
She took a sip of beer and leaned a little closer to me. I put my arm down behind her back and pulled her in.
“He knows where we are,” she said.
“I assume so.”
“When he comes to get it, will we hand it over?”
“We’ll decide that when he comes.”
“I think Raven and Bathin are telling the truth,” she said. “About Ordinary. I think they might be telling the truth about the library. Ricky does too.”
I hummed and tipped the bottle and took another gulp. I agreed.
She leaned her head on my shoulder.
“Party was really good,” she murmured. “That cake.”
