‘Are you kidding me?’ He gently turned my face back towards his. ‘Those dances are known to be vicious. Getting out alive was only ever a fifty-fifty possibility, and that was without the threat of a giant magic murder wolf.’
Jackson gave me half a smile, working his own kind of magic, distracting me from my darkest thoughts.
‘Not sure how I’m going to explain to my grandmother what happened to this shirt,’ he said, pawing at the stained and shredded white cotton. It was hanging from his body by the only two buttons still fastened, just below his throat. ‘You don’t happen to have a mending spell?’
‘Not that I know of.’
But that didn’t stop my fingertips from trembling as though they might like to try. With shaky hands, he undid the last two buttons and balled the shirt up before tossing it into a trash can on the street corner.
‘Where do you reckon this falls on Ashley’s spectrum of behaviour?’ he asked.
‘Mortal peril should balance out the shirtless part,’ I said. ‘How do you think Lyds will feel about the water damage to her dry clean only dress?’
‘Oh, certain death. Wolf attack or no wolf attack, you’re toast.’
He gave me a once-over, from the top of my wet-through head to the soles of my now bare feet. I couldn’t remember when I’d lost my shoes, but now the pavement felt hot, wet and sharp against my soles.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Better get you home.’
We turned away from the hotel, Jackson leading the way. I managed a few steps before a roaring wave of exhaustion overwhelmed me and I stumbled over my own feet, careening into the window of a neighbourhood dive bar. Before I could protest, he had slipped his head underneath my arm and scooped me up off my feet, light as a feather.
‘You don’t have to carry me,’ I said as he started down the street, picking up his pace when a police car rolled by. ‘I can walk two blocks.’
He cast me a sideways glance.
‘I could crawl two blocks,’ I corrected myself as we turnedonto Harris Street and the world seemed to pull away from me, everything zooming out of perspective as my head lolled back against his chest. ‘Or maybe I can’t.’
Two blocks from home and I could see the edge of Lafayette Square. Being carried back to the house was embarrassing but it was better than crawling. I relaxed into my friend’s arms and saw his mouth curve upwards out the corner of my eye.
‘You might not believe this,’ he said. ‘But I gotta say, that was still not my worst date ever.’
‘Really?’
‘Alison Worthy, eighth grade Valentine’s dance. She ditched me halfway through the night so she could slow dance with Julian Lopez. I never got over it.’
‘So much worse than almost being mauled by a Were,’ I agreed. ‘Why are male egos so fragile?’
‘Hey, isn’t that Ms Stovell?’ Jackson said instead of answering my question.
Across the street, I saw the woman I’d met at the dance stumbling down the sidewalk, her arms stretched out in front as if to keep her from running into something that wasn’t there.
‘Ms Stovell?’ I called out, but she did not stop or look back.
‘She looks like she’s in shock or something,’ Jackson commented when she kept going, stumbling on.
All the trees around us quivered with dark anticipation. A cherry blossom that should’ve shed its petals months ago shook until every last pastel pink petal was on the ground, as though it had been saving them for this moment. My stomach twisted with an unpleasant flash of familiar magic that was not my own. I slipped out of Jackson’s arms, still holding onto him as I found my feet. Ileen Stovell stopped in the middle of the crosswalk then turned slowly until she was facing us, silently mouthing words I couldn’t make out. I walked towards her, ignoring the sharp stones digging into my feet, only a fingertip’sdistance away. I didn’t see the car coming, didn’t hear the rumble of its engine, until it was almost on top of us, yellow headlights blinding me.
‘Em, watch out!’
A rope of Spanish moss wrapped itself around me and dragged me out of the path of the car right as I shoved Ms Stovell into the safety of Lafayette Square. Dazed but safe, she stared at me as though she’d seen a ghost, the Spanish moss lying slack at her feet.
‘What just happened?’ she asked, still upright somehow, bracing herself against the live oak that sat at the corner of the square. ‘You silly children. Don’t you know not to distract someone when they’re crossing the road? I could’ve been killed.’
‘We’re so sorry, Ms Stovell,’ Jackson said, eyes cutting over in my direction as I clutched the rope of Spanish moss like a safety blanket. ‘You think you can get home OK or do you need some help?’
She was not amused.
‘I should think you’ve helped quite enough already,’ she said. ‘First the chaos at the DeSoto and now this. I swear, this town is going straight to hell.’
