The rage I felt at her pain was entirely unexpected and I ground my teeth. “Point these bullies out and I will bring them suffering their descendants will feel for generations to come.”
“You’re a little late, Romeo.” She grinned and turned her beautiful eyes to me. “I hexed a few and set one guy on fire. That was the third time I got suspended, but they could never prove it was me.”
We both laughed and the tension broke. I was wise enough not to ask about the other suspensions or why she went through multiple high schools. We parked on the street and I looked around at the Halloween decorations starting to go up. Lexi hopped out of the car and onto the sidewalk.
“Yeah, they take Halloween very seriously around here. This is only the beginning.”
Oh, I was well aware. I’d been here during the witch trials, mostly out of curiosity. I got the bulk of the blame, both here and across Europe, but it was purely human evil. Humans were quick to blame me for their own atrocities.
We walked past several tourist sites, visited the Witch House and a museum. There were a lot of historical places that Lexi intentionally went around. We wove through the streets as if she were avoiding someone or something, occasionally stopping to look at another place that wasn’t busy.
There was a small memorial area dedicated to some of the people that had been hanged in that spot, with a fair bit of power humming around it. I was almost certain that, if we’d been there at night, a remnant or two would’ve been hanging around. Though their spirits had left long ago, their bodies buried elsewhere, remnants could be left of them in places of horrific tragedies.
The trials across Europe were the Sophiee way but on a much larger scale. Tens of thousands of people had been killed in the last thousand years. Salem only had a handful by comparison, but it was no less tragic. Lexi talked about all she knew, pointed out places of importance that most had gotten wrong.
“My mom actually took a local history book and made a lot of corrections to it,” Lexi giggled. “She can sense things even a lot of other witches can’t, but the town historian refused to make the changes because she couldn’t provide ‘proper evidence.’”
I chuckled. “Sounds about right.”
As the sidewalks got more crowded, something odd kept occurring. Some people, probably around Lexi’s age, would see us and turn the opposite direction quickly. After I saw it happen four times, I opened my mouth to ask Lexi about it, but she spoke up first.
“I’m counting this as date number two.”
My jaw snapped shut and I glanced down at her. “I thought you said last night wasn’t a date.”
She shrugged nonchalantly, kicking a small stone down the walk. “You keep insisting it was. I figured so much rejection might look bad for a man like yourself, so I’ll count it. For the sake of your pride.”
I choked on a laugh, pressing my fist to my mouth. “Thank you very much. My pride appreciates it. Why the emphasis on the number of dates, anyway?”
“If we make it past three, it’s destiny.” She scrunched her nose and looked up at me. “No guy has ever made it past three dates and stuck around. I’m cursed.”
I laughed until I realized she was serious, no hint of amusement in the lines of her face. Even under her immense power, I’d be able to sense a curse like that, and she didn’t have one. I stopped her on the sidewalk, running my thumb across her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The sincerity in my own voice surprised me. What in the Nine Hells was I doing? This was the second-worst possible time in my life to get attached to anyone, especially romantically. I had a traitor to kill and a throne to retake. And yet, the thought of letting her go was harrowing. The deeper this feeling dug in, the more tempted I was to contact my angelic brother and ask him about it.
In my periphery, I saw another person do an about-face and run the other direction. Lexi smiled and took my hand, weaving her fingers in mine. She didn’t seem to be paying any attention to it, or she was ignoring it well. Possibly even used to it, which was a horribly depressing thought. A few minutes later, I watched the next person drop their drink on the street and bolt.
They were genuinely terrified of her. It was written on their faces, in their auras. I could smell it in the air. Maybe I didn’t see it because I was used to dealing with real demons, but she was scarier to them than I’d originally thought.
As the hour approached, Lexi stopped us in front of her house. It was an old Georgian-style home, a design from the mid-1700s, though the stone exterior was newer. Red shutters and a red door accented the grey stone, and there was a pentagram of sticks hanging on the front. Below the front windows were small herb gardens blooming with wild roses, vervain, monkshood, and rosemary, and I knew there would be much more in the back.
If she truly knew how to use these ingredients, I was anticipating this meeting.
Chapter 12
Lexi
Miranda Sutton was the most powerful openly practicing witch in Salem. Growing up, she always seemed to know when I was up to no good and fought tooth and nail with the school board when she knew my accidents were simply uncontrollable power surges. She had a tremendous gift, and I’d be lucky if I had half the skill she had with her witch gifts.
So it shouldn’t have surprised me when she opened the door before we stepped on the porch.
Everything crashed to a halt when I realized how insanely fucking stupid this all was. I’d brought my boss, who I’d slept with twice but wasn’t actually dating, to meet my mother. Why the hell had I agreed to this?!
I was distracted, that was why. In the midst of a dizzying collection any historian, archaeologist, theologian, and half the countries in the world would kill for, my tongue had slipped and he had pounced on it. My curiosity about his collection rivaled his curiosity about my family, though I couldn’t blame him with how vague I’d been. He had power, and apparently had no issue with my mom being a witch, but a conversation about my father was reserved for serious relationships only.
If I ever had one, that was.
Judging by the expression on her face, the rapid transformation from happy to confused to neutral, I felt like an idiot for not thinking to give her a heads-up. I could’ve at least texted her or something! Sam and his damn museum house were doing terrible things to my focus.
