“Right. It’s…it’s creepy.” I pull my arms in close to my body, unable to shake the feeling that telling Ruby might have been the right thing to do—for us witches.
But for the hunters…it could very well be a death sentence. Because when it comes down to it, they are no match for an entire coven.
Chapter
Fifteen
The large wooden doors creak open and then swing shut behind me.
“Holy shit,” I whisper to myself as I take in Grim Gate Academy’s grand library. It’s two stories tall, and the smell of ink and paper hits me as soon as I walk inside, greeting me like a warm hug. There are rectangular tables with comfy chairs in the middle of the library, and a large fireplace is right across from the tall double doors. Two velvet couches are in front of it, with a wide coffee table in between.
I would have spent hours in here as a teenager.
Slowly, I start forward, running my finger over the spines of the books on the shelf nearest me. It’s a section about crystal magic, and the row of books beyond that are all about herbs and their magical properties.
I sat through three of Ruby’s classes, and while she taught the same thing over and over again, I was fascinated by the way the kids were so accustomed to having magic in their everyday lives. When the last class ended, I took myself for a little walk around the academy, wanting to end up here.
I had no idea the library would be this marvelous. It’s filled with more books than I can even imagine, and there are several rows of fiction books, with an entire display dedicated to new romance young-adult romance novels. Yes, this would have been my safe haven as a kid.
Crouching down, I look at the titles on the book spines along the bottom shelf. I’m a coven member and can check out books. Where to start? I have no idea. I want to read through each and every single one of these.
“Can I help you?”
I jerk up, startled.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” a man who looks to be about my age says. He’s standing in the aisle between the rows of books. He has dark eyes and even darker hair and is wearing black jeans and a Grim Gate sweatshirt. “I thought you were a student.”
“Nope. I’m, um, I’m just looking.”
The guy tips his head, eyes zeroing in on me. “I’m sorry, but have we met?”
“We might have but I don’t remember it,” I answer and then cringe, shaking my head at myself. “I’m Anora.”
“Anora,” he says and a spark of remembrance goes through him. “Anora Benson. No way. It’s really you?”
“I, um, yes, it’s me.”
The guy takes a few steps closer. “I always wondered what happened to you.” His dark eyes are so familiar.
“I’m sorry. If we met before, I don’t remember.”
“Of course,” he laughs. “I’m Devin Henson.”
“Devin,” I echo, remembering him as the boy who spelled his toy to magically fart. A smile comes to my face. “I remember meeting you. Kind of. My great Aunt Estelle—”
“Professor Fowler.”
“Right. She…she…” I close my eyes and just spit it out. “She put a memory spell on me and didn’t remember much of my childhood including meeting people here.”
“Holy shit,” Devin exclaims and a few seconds of silence pass between us. “That explains why I never saw you again and why she got so upset anytime I brought you up.”
“I’m starting to learn that was her thing.” I wrinkle my nose. “She took all my memories of her so I can’t even say I know her.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Devin holds up a hand. “And sorry if swearing offends you.”
I laugh. “It doesn’t. So, how did we know each other?”
“I’ll try not to take that personally,” he chuckles. “Your aunt was quite gifted in magic.” His lips curve into a smile. “You were my girlfriend.”
“I was?” I don’t mean to blush, but I do. “Weren’t we like, nine years old?”
“I was eleven and I think you were ten.” He widens his eyes, tipping his head toward me and we both laugh. “My grandma was also a professor who would have worked with Estelle Fowler. You came over to our house a few times. With your brother…Harrison, right?”
“Yeah,” I say, thrilled to death that I’ve met another person who remembers me. “He, uh, he never got any powers it seems. She didn’t take all his memories away.”
“That’s too bad.” Devin comes closer, resting an arm on the shelf between us. “I feel almost silly asking how you’ve been.”
“I mean, other than not remembering that I was a witch or that any of this existed, I’ve been good.”
He holds my gaze for a few seconds. “I’ve thought about you over the years,” he says again. “Mostly because we never broke up. You’re still very much my girlfriend.”