“That’s for breaking up with me. You’re an ass, Edward! And this tag!”
I claw at my back as the entire restaurant watches me. Frustrated beyond belief, I release a scream that a banshee would be proud of.
With my spine no longer itching and my pride completely shattered, I pick up my purse, grab my coat and march from the restaurant.
I’m outside in the cold, snapping wind within moments. Adrenaline courses through my veins. I just threw a glass of water in Edward’s face!
Our date wasn’t supposed to end like this. He was supposed to propose.
Oh my gods. I’ve been such an idiot. Did I miss some sign? But how could I have? He told me that he loved me. He said that he didn’t care that I couldn’t wield magic.
But the truth is that he did. Just like Ted, my first high school boyfriend who broke up with me because I wasn’t cool like the girls who could use magic, or River, who dumped me in college because his friends pressured him to date a “real witch,” or even Jonah, who said that magic wasn’t all that, but when I couldn’t even magically light a candle, he realized that he’d be stuck with a loser his whole life and he left me like all the rest.
As I walk through the crowded streets back to my apartment, I realize something—I’ll never be good enough for wizards, and I’ll never be normal enough for humans.
I’m not good enough for either, which can only mean one thing—I’ll stop dating.
I’m done with men. Yes, at the ripe age of twenty-nine, I’m saying goodbye to romance. It’s not worth the pain.
And that pain is ripping through me right now. I loved Edward; he was supposed to be my forever. But he turned out to be just like the others.
I reach my high-rise apartment building. Ilovehigh-rises. They make me feel formidable and tall even though I’m on the short side. When I’m standing at my window glancing down at the people who are no bigger than dots, and cars that are as long as my pinky, I feel a power that I can’t grab ahold of in my normal life. It’s the closest feeling I have to wielding real magic.
The doorman opens the door as my phone rings. My heart jumps into my throat. Is it Edward, calling to apologize?
I signal to the doorman that it’ll be just a moment, and I step aside so that he can’t hear me tell Edward that there’s no way we’re getting back together.
But the number flaring on the screen isn’t his. It’s Nana’s. My stomach drops. She’s calling to hear all about the proposal. She’s expecting me to announce an engagement. It’s strange that she didn’t wait for me to call, but not surprising. She wants—or ratherneeds—me to marry. I keep telling her there’s no rush, but she insists that there is.
Which makes it all the worse that I have to confess what just happened. The public humiliation’s so fresh that it clings to my skin like a sweaty sports bra.
My insides tighten as I swipe my finger across the screen. “Hey, Nana. I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
I keep my tone light. Everything’s fine. It’s great. I’m writing off romance forever. No big deal, right?
“It’s Blair.”
A gust of relief rushes from my lungs. “Oh, thank goodness. I can’t talk to Nana right now.”
“Addie.” Her voice breaks. Blair’s voice never breaks. Mysister is void of all emotion. Not true, but fairly close. “Nana…”
Now I’m worried. “What is it? What’s going on?”
“It’s Nana, Addie. She’s…gone.”
The world spins. Impossible. I was only just talking to her. “What? This isn’t funny, Blair.”
“It’s true. She had a heart attack, we think. She’s gone. No magic could save her, and Mama tried. You have to come home. Right now.”
3
When Blair saysright now, I assume there’ll be time to pack before she magicks me to Castleview. But I’m very, very wrong.
Immediately after the words leave her mouth, a great suction grabs hold of my body, yanking me from where I stand and stretching me like a rubber band.
My feet are pulled and released, and I’m slingshotted through the air at the speed of sound. At least it feels like it. The skin on my face flaps as wind screams past me. My stomach’s been left on the ground, and all I hear is a howling in my ears, and all I feel is my last meal as it pushes up into my throat.
And then, as quickly as everything started, it stops. The ground is under my feet, and I fold over, my palms scraping against wet cobblestones.
