“But we could—”
A car horn blares.
Our heads jerk around to see someone stopped behind Trace’s vehicle, which is blocking the street. We look back at each other and laugh.
“Better go,” he says. But first he lowers his head and kisses me… and his lips on mine feel like magic… like hunger… like a promise of more.
But he leaves.
4
Trace
Dinner with the family on a Wednesday night isn’t usual, but it’s a meal I don’t have to make myself. Not that making meals is hard when you’re a witch. I can conjure a pretty damn fine T-bone steak, if I do say so myself.
All day I’ve been thinking about last night. About Romy.
I think a lot about her mouth. How she felt kissing me, how she tasted. She tasted fucking incredible. I think about how much I laughed and the sizzle of awareness between us all evening. My impulsive idea to visit the Granger house at night, which isn’t like me. The pull between us as we danced to imaginary music in a dark, dusty ballroom. And the abrupt ending to our evening.
I was honest with her. I don’t do relationships. And she was on the same page… She has something going on in her life, something she wanted to be distracted from, and I sure don’t need to take on someone else’s shit. And yet I feel like it’s not over.
I pull up in front of the Candler home, a big house in Sheridan Park, lucking into a parking spot on the street. I just saw everyone on Sunday, which is when Cassie usually has everyone for dinner, so I’m not sure what this is about. I walk up to the front door and enter without knocking or ringing the bell since I lived here for years.
Inside I hear faint voices coming from the back of the house, so I head through the kitchen toward the sunroom. I glance around the kitchen. It’s spotless. Hey, what about dinner? I was promised food.
I pause in the door of the sunroom. Evening sun slants into the room through floor-to-ceiling mullioned windows. I can’t walk into this room without remembering the pane of glass I shattered with a badly hit baseball from the backyard. Joe made me fix it myself, teaching me how to do it.
Joe and Cassie sit on the wicker love seat, Felise and Magan on nearby chairs. The atmosphere in the room is thick.
Cassie sees me and jumps up. “Trace! You’re here. Come in. Sit.”
I take in her pink nose and red eyes. What the hell is going on?
I look at Felise and Magan, and they wear expressions of apprehension. I lift my brows at Felise as I take a seat. She bites her lip.
Now I look at Joe and see his tense face. He’s a good-looking, fit guy in his fifties, silver frosting the short beard on his chin and the hair at his temples. Right now his lips are a thin line, and his eyebrows are pulled down over his eyes.
“What’s going on?” I ask bluntly.
Cassie sighs. Joe scrubs a hand over his face. He speaks first.
“You’re part of the family, so we thought you should be involved in this discussion.”
I’m not really part of the family. But Joe and Cassie raised me after the car crash that killed my parents and my brother. I love them like family. I’d do anything for them.
Last night I told Romy about my real family dying. I didn’t tell her I killed them. That’s something I keep hidden way deep inside me. I’ve been searching for a way to change the past and get them back ever since I completed my Diploma of Witchcraft at the Academy. Resurrection isn’t possible. Time travel has been possible in very rare cases, but my attempts have been unsuccessful. I’ve even appealed to the Board of Elders for a special dispensation—more than once—but was denied. Much as I’ve tried, I’ve never been able to figure out a way to go back and change that day so my mom and dad and brother could still be alive.
If only I could do that… I’d feel like my life is worth something.
But I can’t. It pisses me off, and because of that I’ve basically given up on witchcraft.
I’ve tried to repay the Candlers for what they’ve done for me by working in the Candler family business, run by Joe, his brothers Chuck and Tony, and their father George. The Candler rules are that before working in the family business, everyone has to go work for another company for five years, so after college I did that. Now I work for Dream Homes Construction.
I can see so many opportunities to improve the business by modernizing our practices and using new ideas, but they’re all kind of stuck in their ways, and since I’m not really family, I don’t push very hard. It’s frustrating, but I love working there and I love the family.
Now I suck in a breath, preparing myself to hear that one of them has cancer or some other terminal illness, or they’re selling the house and the business and moving to Florida. Jesus, I can’t lose more family. Sweat breaks out on my forehead and under my arms.
“Felise has been communicating with a woman,” Joe says slowly, his voice low.
I frown. My glance slides over to her. She’s still chewing on her bottom lip. For some reason I take Joe’s words to mean she’s in love with another woman. That would be surprising since I’m pretty sure she’s straight, but you never know. But that wouldn’t be enough to have everyone sitting around, looking like they’ve just learned Cassie has a week to live. Especially considering that their cousin Wendell is marrying a man next month.
“Apparently through DNA testing we’ve learned this woman is related to us,” Joe continues.
Oh.
“You took a DNA test?” I ask Felise with a what-the-hell look.
“Yes. I don’t even know why.” She waves a hand, frowning. “I just… had the idea I should do it. Stop asking me why. I just don’t know.”
I give her a long look. Felise does tend to do things on a whim, but that’s kind of… random.
“Okay. So… how is she related?” I look back at Joe. She’s probably a third cousin once removed or something, but honestly, this family is so big, with aunts and uncles and cousins, why would this be so upsetting?
“I knew her mother,” Joe says, hastily adding, “before I met Cassie.”
I blink. My jaw slackens. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? “You… knew her.”
“Yes. Okay, we had a relationship. Let’s just be frank. No good will come of dancing around things.” He squeezes Cassie’s hand, and she grips it tightly, reassuringly. Okay, that’s good. “She’s not… I mean, she wasn’t… a witch. Apparently she passed away just over a year ago. I was young and foolish, and I wanted her to know the truth about who I am.”
I nod, my thoughts twisting and turning like a washing machine agitator. I get that. This is why relationships with Ruckers—regular humans who have no magical powers—are discouraged. I’m sure telling the woman that he was a witch, a member of the Orb of Night coven, shook her.
“She… didn’t handle it well,” Joe continues. “She basically accused me of being insane. When I tried to show her I wasn’t, to prove to her who I am, she was terrified. She took off. I could never get ahold of her or find her, even with a spell. Eventually I gave up, figuring it wasn’t meant to be. And…” He meets Cassie’s eyes. “It obviously wasn’t. Because then I met you.”