Page 12

River

Cassandra frowned and darted her gaze around the dusty storeroom, as if seeking the person I was referencing.

“I’m talking about Asmoday,” I clarified.

She blinked slowly. “Are you asking if I am attracted to that guy in the other room?”

I shook my head. “I’m asking, why aren’t you? It’s not possible. He’s a lust demon!”

Now, ask me why I was getting so riled up about this.

No, don’t do that. Because I didn’t have a clue.

It wasn’t like I wanted her to be attracted to Asmoday. And not because I wanted her to be attracted to me—I didn’t, for the record.

Really. It’s true. I—oh, damn it.

“Lust demon, huh? I figured he was a demon but no clue which kind.” She gave the open doorway a considering look. “That is interesting. That’s their whole thing, right? They give off these pheromones that makes pretty much everyone lust after them.”

“The previous witch who ran the coffee shop used her magic to dull his pheromones,” I admitted. “The spell is starting to wear off. I’m sure he’s thrilled that the town has hired a new witch.”

Everyone in town was thrilled. Everyone but me.

Her eyes widened. “Wh-why?”

I furrowed my brow and waved at her person. “Because you can update the spell?” She was acting weird. Like she didn’t have a clue what I was talking about.

She shook her head. Vigorously enough for her fiery red curls to smack her in the face. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean? You don’t know the spell?” Aren’t there spellbooks that are basically recipe books for witches? Couldn’t she just google it? Phone a friend?

“I know the spell. I know a ridiculous number of spells. I just can’t cast them.”

“Any of them?”

“Any of them.”

A magicless witch. Was that even a thing? Didn’t that simply make her…human? Of all the supernatural beings out there, witches were the ones who most closely physically resembled humans.

Which was not the point.

“You can’t cast spells.”

“I can,” she amended. “But I won’t.”

“This conversation feels…”

“Stilted?”

“Yes. Exactly.” I narrowed my eyes. Was she doing it on purpose? Lying to me about her abilities, just to get a rise out of me?

It was working. Which was good, actually. Liars weren’t my thing. Maybe I’d drawn her as a way to warn myself away and meeting her in person was only reiterating that fact.

“Figured it out,” Asmoday called from the front of the shop.

Cassandra deliberately thrust her nose in the air and strode away, leaving me feeling annoyingly bereft.

Until she tripped and nearly face-planted on the dirty cement floor. If I’d not rushed forward and slipped my arm around her waist, pulled her flush against my body, she might have ended up with a broken nose and a couple of black eyes to complement that bruise on her cheek.