Her friends are anxious. That much is obvious. But then—and the sight makes her want to let out a war cry—both of their expressions shift. It’s slight, but she knows she has buy-in. One small nod from each of them, and that’s it. They’re in agreement. Joey cracks her neck, like she’s preparing to fight. Even Sophie looks feral all of a sudden.
Cal Pierce will pay for what he’s done.
In a flash, Joey’s gaze drifts past Elena’s shoulder.
Elena turns.
71Joey
Cal tips his head to the side. He grips one glass in each hand. “Hello,” he says.
Joey searches his face for signs of malice, of ill intent, but there is nothing. He’s blinking at them, seeming to try to work out who they are and what they’re doing here.
“These are my friends,” says Elena casually. Her words aren’t careful or measured at all. It’s solid acting.
There’s a moment of quiet during which Joey thinks Cal might not know he’s about to kill Elena. Maybe he hasn’t thought that far in advance.
“Welcome, friends of Elena. Come in,” he says. “I’ll make more drinks.”
They don’t discuss any kind of plan out loud, even when Cal disappears and pours two more cocktails with the calm of a man about to host a dinner party. The only sign that he is at all wary is his small glance up at them while he twists open a fizzing ginger beer.
In minutes he’s near them again, and Joey feels her body react involuntarily. She has already changed the course of history tonight, simplyby coming here, and it strikes her that she’s the only one who knows what happened in the previous version of events. Not even Cal knows. The horror of watching her friend bleed to death—she’s glad neither Elena nor Sophie has any memory of it. She watches his eyes glide between the three of them, and she can tell he’s thinking on his feet. She knows then that he still plans to go through with it.
Elena cradles her drink up by her face, pushing the lime around the rim. Sophie puts hers on the bookshelf and starts to browse the books there. She holds one hand with the other, plainly steadying her nerves. Joey is relieved to see that neither of her friends have taken a sip because it’s just occurred to her that his plan will almost certainly have changed. Anything could be in those drinks.
“How long have you lived here?” Joey asks. She’s risking glances around the room, searching for potential danger. He’s only one man, but the way he’s standing between all of them and the door makes Joey nervous. She’s not sure how she let him block their best escape.
“I don’t actually live here,” he says. “But I fixed it up a few years ago. I do love it, don’t you? It’s peaceful.” His voice is thick with charm, and Joey grinds her teeth back and forth. Elena’s face is locked on his. She’s watching his every move. They are all taut, tolerating the small talk while they wait for the right moment.
“Huh,” says Elena. “Was that before or after you killed Quinn?”
Joey makes eye contact with Sophie, whose face opens in dismay. Neither of them risk a look at Cal, but Joey tries to imagine what he’s thinking now. Her heart is suddenly a hammer, and she opts to paper over Elena’s outburst. “Listen, we shouldn’t keep you. We’ll just go.”
His eyes are quick, moving back and forth between them again, and Joey expects him to step closer, to corner them. He won’t let them just leave. Joey knows this, and there’s a part of her that has just realized how insane this is.
Cal doesn’t move an inch, but he leans to examine the bookshelf. Fora minute, Joey thinks he might relent and try again another time. But sensing something, she follows his gaze. There’s a row with books leaning in on each other. It looks like there’s one missing. He has noticed.
For a breath, they’re all frozen. Then, several things happen in quick succession. Joey throws her drink into Cal’s face, and he, undeterred, pulls something out of his back pocket with one hand, grabbing Elena with the other. His arm links around her while the barrel of a slick black gun digs into her neck. It dimples the skin, and Elena bucks once, knocking the books and knickknacks off the shelf. But she must see the fear on Joey’s and Sophie’s faces or feel the pressure of the gun constricting her airway because she checks her anger instantly.
“Where’s the book?” He literally spits the words. His face is soaked with tequila and ginger beer. His look is wild, and Joey has no doubt he’ll use that weapon at Elena’s throat.
Joey puts her hands out, low, as if backing away from a startled bear. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says.
“Give me the book.” He’s calmer than Joey expected him to be. He is a thinker, a planner. He has had to be. But Joey and Sophie’s presence has thrown him off balance just slightly, and he’s rotating on an axis he didn’t plan for. Which means he’s improvising.
“What book?” she asks.
He flashes a nervous smile. “Don’t insult me.” Then, he smiles more confidently. “I’m one of you.”
Cal notices her flicker of doubt and bites his lower lip. “My mother had the magic in her. She told me to come back and claim it for myself. I promised her I would. That’s how I met Quinn.”
“Don’t you dare say her name,” Elena growls, and Joey is aware of an echo of the previous version of events. He tightens his arm around her. Muscles strain at his shirtsleeves.“Elena,”Joey tries to tell her with a look,“for once, shut up.”
He doesn’t look away from Joey, and his glare is so intense, it makessomething inside her give way, turning her insides soft. “I know you most of all, Joellen Close. I know exactly who you are. I thought it would be you who I’d kill to get the magic this time around, before this one walked right into my life, like a puppy who needed a home.” Elena jerks, and he suddenly looks furious. He shoves the barrel of the gun into her mouth.
Sophie makes a small shocked sound, but Joey doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t move her gaze from Cal’s.
“I knew your mom, Joey,” he continues. “Carly or Carla, was it? She tried to fight me too, and if I’m remembering correctly—it was ten years ago—I made that one look like a suicide. She didn’t understand that these sacrifices are necessary. I’m supposed to have this magic. It’s as much mine as yours. And thanks to her, really, I have all of this.” He widens his arms to the side, as if to envelop the room, the house, around them. “Her blood bought me my most lucrative years.”
