Your only options after a big, unfixable scene are, one, to disappear or, two, commit to the sin wholeheartedly: Put on a cape and top hat and go on the road. Once you tell Normals that it’s all atrick,you can do anything in front of them. You can make the Statue of Liberty disappear.
Baz was clever. To pretend it was all part of some show.
I’m not that sort of clever. I can’t pretend.
I killed those vampires in front of hundreds of Normals. Mum won’t care about the vampires; you can get a medal for slaying vampires. But I used so much magic, right out in the open.
I can only imagine what Simon and Baz did. They have wings and fangs and superstrength between them. Baz has an actual magic wand.
Hopefully it was all so obvious and over the top that no one will believe it was real. Norealmagicians would be so careless.
Morgana the mighty,everyone’sgoing to see this. All our friends. Our teachers.
Micah’s going to think I went directly off the deep end as soon as he dumped me.
I suppose I did.
24
BAZ
I should be very upset right now.
Bunce is a wreck in the back seat; you can see the waves of guilt and fear and shock rolling through her. Appropriately! Our parents are going tocut out our tongueswhen we get home. We’re definitely facing a trial before the Coven. Undoubtedly. The moment we’re back on British soil.
But we’re very much not on British soil now, are we?
And Simon Snow doesn’t have any parents.
His euphoria is contagious. Beyond contagious—enchanting.
I can still feel his mouth on mine, his arms around me. For the first time in so long. Maybe for the first time ever like that. So heady and carefree.
It’s like the day we turned back the dragon on the Watford lawn—but on that day, I had to pretend I wasn’t soaring inside. That I wasn’t absolutely shimmering from his magic and attention.
Simon’s still grinning—a half hour out of Omaha—letting the wind whip his hair into his eyes. Penny finally spelled hiswings away so that he could put on his seat belt. (We got a few odd looks on the freeway.)
He keeps reaching over to squeeze my shoulder or my arm. And it isn’t a question. There’s no hesitation. He’s just touching me because he’s happy. Because he’s high. And because I was there, I’m part of it, what’s making him happy.
He grabs the back of my neck and squeezes, shaking me gently back and forth. When I look over, he’s laughing.
They’re going to stone us when we get home. They’re going to strike our names from the Book.
But not until we get home.
If we get home.
America is endless. We may never run out of roads.
We pull over eventually, at a motorway service station. To use the loo and buy more terrible sandwiches.
Bunce and I are the first ones back to the car. “We must need petrol,” I say. “We haven’t filled up once.”
“I’ve been charming the tank,” she replies, frowning at her dinner. “How do Americans mess upsandwiches?”
“They’re dryandsoggy,” I say, taking a bite. “At once.”
“How much trouble do you think we’re in?” She looks up at me, closing one eye against the setting sun.
