“So you’re in here hiding instead of trying to get a video like everyone else?” she asked.
“Yes.” I closed my journal before she could read it. “And you?”
She sipped her drink. “Yep.”
“You live around here?” I asked, tapping my pen.
“Nope. You?”
“Nope.”
We stared at each other. Her blackened lips curved into a little smirk, which made my heart do a somersault. And though I can’t say for certain, I’m pretty sure that pause held a shit-ton of secrets—maybe the entire truth about magic and witches.
She took another step closer, her eyes penetrating deep into me until my lips tingled. “What are you writing?”
“Journaling.”
“About what’s going on outside?”
“About anything. What I see. Things and…people…that interest me.” I was losing the ability to breathe. Looking up at her while I sat on the barstool, it was easy to imagine her leaning down and…
“You’re cute,” she purred.
This effectively reduced me to a puddle on the floor. She somehow turned the word into a challenge—like she was daring me to prove I was more than just cute.
Her phone beeped. She checked it and glanced out the window. “Hey, I gotta go, but we should talk more. Sounds like you’ve got some unresolved farm-related trauma to sort through, and I’m happy to listen.”
“I guess I do,” I said, gripping the table to steady myself.
She hesitated, then handed me her phone with a new contact entry open. “Tomorrow at seven?”
Ohmygod ohmygod.
With clumsy fingers, I typed in my name and number. “Yeah, sounds good,” I said, trying to act casual even though my insides were practically exploding like fireworks.
She took the phone back, letting our fingers brush, which sent a zap through my whole body.
She looked at the screen and nodded, flashing a stunning smile. “Hazel. I’m Oaklyn.”
And that, dear diary, is how I gave a girl my number!! I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited about a date. Watching her strut out of the cafe, I could have floated into the ceiling.
But the feeling didn’t last long. Now, staring out the window at the passing train, my chest tightens. What is Katie up against on the other side? Will she and Natalie be okay?
I can’t help wondering if this stranger, Oaklyn, knows something. Maybe she’s a witch, or maybe she’s witch-adjacent like me. But if I’m meeting her tomorrow night, I’ll have to come up with a way to ask.
Chapter 9
Chimera Catching 102: Not Dying
“ThinkSophia’sheretokill us or get the chimera?” I ask, sucking in rattling breaths, the salt air burning my lungs.
Beside me, Natalie follows my gaze to our guest, her body tensing. “Shit. Probably both.”
Great. This mission just went from catch-or-jail to catch-or-die.
While Natalie tries to force the bird downward, Sophia advances along the brick boardwalk with her arms out. Her fingers curl like claws, raising a swirl of debris to match Natalie’s. Her white-blonde braid whips in the wind like a snake ready to strike. She looks way too confident for someone who’s been a witch for barely three months.
“Wish I’d known you planned to visit our vacation house yesterday,” she shouts over the rumbling train. “We would have prepared the guest room for you.”
