My initial reaction was too callous. He was suffering, and more than anything, I wanted to comfort him. “I get it. Sorry. I’m not trying to invalidate you at all. It’s just—well, I’m also used to people always thinking I’m guilty ofsomethingjust by being myself. I don't mean to be so much more energetic than my sisters, but the label actually has its advantages because many people are afraid to mess with me. Plus, being a vampireitselfcan’t be illegal, right? As long as you're getting your hemoglobin from an ethical source, you shouldn't have to worry. It’s a specialized diet, but hey, I can’t have gluten, and I enjoy steak, so...”
Wickham continued to stare at me as if I were speaking Greek. He took a slow breath, a slip of asmile turned up the corner of his mouth, and he shook his head. “You’re not what I expected, Lydia.”
I shrugged. “I’d say the same to you, but I’m honestly not surprised. You’re crazy good-looking, a rock star, cool, charismatic; you’ve got a dark academia vibe. Plus, you’ve got those piercing brown eyes—probably hypnotized me into falling for you. I’m surprised I didn’t put it together sooner.”
“But aren’t you scared I’ll bite you?” He leaned closer to me and caressed my neck. “You smell ravishing.”
“So do you. Soap, sandalwood, cedar, and a little pine, right? I’m a witch. Areyouscared I’ll cast a spell on you?” I leaned even closer, somehow forgetting altogether why we were in the parking lot.
Wickham’s dimpled grin spread across his face, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “No. Wait, did you say falling for me?”
And then we had our second kiss. Whether fueled by adrenaline following the confession, lingering fear, or Wickham's vulnerability, the kiss surpassed the first.
After a while, Wickham cradled my cheek in his hand. “How is it I feel like, with you around, everything is going to be alright?”
“Magic. I am a witch, after all. But we should probably still call the police," I said, remembering our whole reason for waiting there. "It will be fine."
We did. It wasn’t fine.
Chapter 3
Astoutofficerwithdark, slicked-back hair and a no-nonsense navy aura was the first to arrive on the scene. He looked like a decent guy, steady and grounded, but Wickham grumbled.
“I can’t believe it… Officer Herrera. Rotten luck.”
“Why?” I asked, wondering just how many times Wickham had been in trouble with the law. “Did he bust you for throwing wild parties and trashing hotel rooms?”
“Funny. No. But he had it out for me a while ago. There was an incident at Pemberley. So, I don’t understand why Officer Herrera is here. It’s at least a two-hour drive.”
Officer Herrera got out of his squad car, and the faint shimmer of his aura pulsed around him. He marched toward us, boots crunching over the icy pavement. “Well, of all the people I didn’t expect to see again. George Wickham, what are you doing in Austen Heights?”
Wickham unrolled his window the rest of the way, and chuckled softly, playing it cool. “I was about to ask you the same thing, Officer Herrera. I thought you worked southeast of here. No?”
“The city near Pemberley has an excellent children’s hospital. So, I took up a post there while our son had surgery for a heart condition. I was born and raised in Austen Heights.” It was true—I’d seen Officer Herrera at town events. The woman and adorable toddler occasionally with him must have been his wife and son.
“Sorry to hear about the heart condition. I hope he’s okay.” Wickham’s expression softened, his own green aura dimming slightly in sympathy.
“He’s fine now.” But Officer Herrera didn’t warm up to us. In fact, he stiffened as he scribbled in his notepad, the edges of his aura tensing like a tight string. "You said there’s a body in the amphitheater? Who is it?”
“Alex Adler. He’s the band manager for my group, the Grey Doors.” Wickham gestured toward the amphitheater. We got out of the Jeep and started in that direction.
“We just got back from our date and found him like this,” I tried to explain as we reentered the backstage area. “It wasterrifying.”
“And who are you?” Officer Herrera acknowledged me for the first time. A ripple of curiosity flickered through his aura when I spoke my name.
“Oh, I’m Lydia Bennet.” I attempted to present my most innocent face, even though I’d done nothing wrong.
“Bennet? Any relation to the Cupid’s Confections owners?” His eyes narrowed.
“My parents own it.” I shrugged, remembering Mom’s recent legal issues and wishing I’d stayed quiet.
“Hm.” Officer Herrera huffed. “They make good butter croissants. Your mother, though…”
I stayed silent. Defending her character while standing near a dead body felt counterintuitive.
Once inside, Wickham flipped on the lights, and we found Alex exactly as we had left him. A faint shiver of residual negative energy clung to the room like a whisper.
“Poor guy’s gone all right,” Officer Herrera said, his upper lip curling. “Smells bad, doesn’t it? This doesn’t look good for you, Wickham.”
