Page 35

I hopped out of the truck and slung the bag over my shoulder. River strode around the hood and stopped a short distance away. Close enough that, if I hadn’t confessed, I would have been brave enough to snag the front of his shirt and pull him to me for a kiss.

I shouldn’t have confessed.

As we walked toward the building, I said, “It was never a conscious decision. Not one single time. I didn’t even mean to be in your vicinity any of those times. We were always randomly in the same area.”

The doors to the wholesaler slid open on a gasp, and we stepped inside.

“Why were you there?” he asked. “At the abandoned warehouse? At the cemetery? Although truth be told, the resident gargoyles were impressed with the way you managed to impale me with the fleur-de-lis tip of that wrought iron fence.”

I winced. That had been the second-to-last time I’d sent him to a fiery death, and I’d been absolutely appalled at myself. My uncle had admonished me, but it was obvious that he, too, had been impressed.

“If humans actually believed in us, you’d make a damn fine security detail,” my uncle had said. I was pretty sure there was pride in his voice.

A sales associate greeted us and eyed the obviously moving bag hanging from my shoulder.

“It’s my purse,” I said defensively.

He must have been a hetero guy and therefore knew he had zero recourse, because instead of arguing, he asked, “How can I help you today?”

I pulled a handwritten list out of my actual purse and handed it to him with a toothy smile.

He scanned the paper and nodded. “Pretty sure all of this is in stock.”

Thank henna.

“Follow me.” He snagged one of those heavy-duty push handcarts that one normally saw at Home Depot, and River and I obediently trailed behind him while he loaded items onto the flat surface, occasionally asking whether I wanted this brand or that one.

“My uncle was trying to help me get my magic under control,” I said quietly to River while the sales associate led us down yet another aisle.

“What do you mean?” River asked, glancing at the associate’s back.

“He thought he could fix me, but he didn’t want anyone else to know. So we would meet at these clandestine locations. It was different every time. I guess he was being extra cautious. My family can be a lot.”

Understatement of the year.

“And you just happened to be exactly where I was located every time?” He was back to sounding disbelieving.

“Yes,” I insisted. “Plus, there were plenty of times in between.”

Uncle Lewey was very persistent. And we never practiced in the same place twice. Not that it ever helped.

“It wasn’t like he tried to help me only six times over the course of however many months it was.”

“Four. Over the course of four months, you killed me six times, Cassandra.”

His voice had risen high enough for the sales associate to frown at us over his shoulder.

“We’re practicing for a play,” I said with another toothy grin. “Romeo and Juliet.” To River I hissed, “I know, and I said I’m sorry. I can’t even tell you how it happened each time. Take that barrel, for instance. It just fell out of the window. I wasn’t even trying to use my magic at the time. I was simply standing there watching you.”

“You didn’t touch it? Didn’t cast a spell over it?”

“No. Nothing. I just stood there, watching and listening to you sing—you sing beautifully, by the way—to the plants. And the next thing I knew, the barrel was, well, barreling toward the ground.”

“Toward my head,” he amended icily.

“Same with the fence. And that weird oil spill that caught fire. And the apartment complex. I’ve accidentally created enough fireballs in my life to know when they are forming, and I did not get that sensation that time. I swear.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time. Long enough for our sales associate to finish picking everything on my list. The associate handed me the piece of paper and told me to head to the registers to pay for my purchases.