The Secret Life of a Witch 2 (Mystic Willow Bay, Witches 2) - Page 9

“It’s so pretty.” I lied down on the bed and tucked my hands behind my head, gazing up at the twinkling stars. “I could seriously stare at this all day.”

He lowered his wand and grinned as he laid down beside me. “Am I the bestest friend ever, or what?”

“Definitely,” I agreed with a nod. Then paused. “No, you’re way better than that.” I turned and looked at him. When our eyes locked, a gooey, glowy warmth filled my chest. And that’s when I knew I was falling in love with my best friend. “Way, way more.”

I try not to choke on the memory. I had felt so terrified, yet excited by the new emotions. And while I understood Hunter was way out of my league, I knew that feeling love for him was okay. Because he was Hunter. My smart, caring, sarcastic, but sweet Hunter.

It was all a lie. Every memory. Every smile. Every emotion.

All lies.

I open and flex my hands as tears burn my eyes. I breathe in and out, refusing to cry. Then I gradually sit up, clutching my throbbing head.

“How the hell did I even get here, anyway?”

“I brought you here,” Hunter says, startling the shit out of me.

I squint through the darkness, my muscles becoming as stiff as a petrifying spell when I spot him looming in the shadows near my dresser.

“Okay, first of all, it’s super creepy that you’ve been standing there the entire time.” I scoot toward the edge of my bed with my gaze trained on him. “Second, get the hell away from me.”

When he makes no move to budge, my fingers creep down to draw out my wand, but then I painfully remember that the demon snapped the thing like a twig.

Dammit! I really need to get a new one ASAP!

I nearly laugh at my urgent thought. Yeah, I’ll get right on that, after I escape my psychopath—and very powerful—friend and save my sister.

Chuckling, Hunter ambles out of the corner of the room, taking casual steps toward my bed.

Hatred mixed with freaking love nearly gives me whiplash. How I can still feel the latter is beyond me. I really need to find a way to get rid of it.

He stops at the foot of the bed and rests his hands on the footboard before lowering his head and taking a deep inhale. “Are you okay?” he then asks without looking at me.

Keeping my lips zipped, I eye him over with suspicion. He’s changed his clothes since the last time I saw him, now sporting a black T-shirt and a pair of loose-fitting black jeans, along with studded leather bracelets. The look is way too goth for the Hunter I know. Besides, why would he change at all? It makes no sense.

Unless he killed someone or something and got blood all over his clothes.

I shake the thought from my head. Hunter, a killer? Seriously, Eva?

Then I recall how he was going to hand me over to that demon, and the ache in my chest amplifies.

“Am I okay?” I retort, my eyes narrow into slits. “After everything that just happened, that’s all you have to say to me?”

He lifts his head to look at me, his expression annoyingly neutral. “I think it’s what’s the most important right now.”

“No. What’s most important is you explaining to me how you knew I could be a hybrid, and why the hell you were going to hand me over to a demon.” My fingers shake as I throw the blanket off me and swing my legs over the side of the bed. “No, better yet, no explaining. I just want you to leave and to never have to see you again.” I shift forward to stand up, but then sink back down as the room twirls around me like an overly zealous ballerina. “Whoa.” I press my hand to my head, blinking. “Biggest head rush ever.”

“Take it easy. You’ve been under a sleep spell for almost twenty-four hours,” Hunter says as he winds around the bed. “You’re going to be a little dopey for the next hour or so.”

I lift my free hand up in front of me. “Don’t you dare come any closer.”

He slows down, but doesn’t come to a complete stop. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

My sharp laugh causes him to flinch. “Not going to hurt me?” I shake my head. “Newsflash, dude, you already did.”

He fights back a smile as he halts a few steps away from me. “Since when did I become dude? I thought you only called people whose names you can’t remember dude?”

“I wish I could forget your name,” I grumble, and his grin breaks through.

Curse him and his stupid smile. His stupid, sexy smile. Grr …

“Look, dude, this isn’t funny. You’re evil, and I want you out of my room. Now.”

He busts up laughing, the noise so abrupt and unexpected that I nearly jolt out of my skin.

“I’m being serious.” Frustrated, I lean forward to test my equilibrium, but get no reward as my room’s four walls blur into one.

My ass plants back down on the mattress, and I curse under my breath. My reaction only seems to encourage Hunter’s laughter, which only adds more fuel to the fire wanting to burn inside of me.

Sucking in a determined breath, I push to my feet and finally stand up. “Okay, I’m out of here, since you can’t take a hint and leave.” I step toward the door. At least, I think I do. It’s really hard to tell while my bedroom is acting like a Tilt-a-Whirl.

His laughter simmers down a notch as he sidesteps in front of me. “I’m sorry for laughing. Just please sit down before you fall down.”

Raising my chin in defiance, I take another step forward. When he doesn’t move out of my way, my chest whacks into his.

“I’m not going to fall, so please move.” As I teeter to the side, I hurry and span my arms out.

A condescending look appears in Hunter’s eyes as I struggle to keep my balance. “You’re not going to fall, huh?”

“Yep.” As soon as I say it, I stumble backward into the wall. “Dammit, why do I have to be so clumsy? All I need to do is get to the door, and I can’t even do that right.”

He strides toward me, instantly reducing the space between us. “You’re not clumsy. You’re just doped up a little bit.”

“Because you put a sleep spell on me.” Saying the words aloud hurts so badly I can hardly breathe. My voice softens with the ache of it. “Why would you do that? I thought we were friends?”

“We are. Things are just … complicated.” He reaches out to cup my cheek, but I turn my head away. He sighs. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I promise I can explain everything.”

I put my hands on my hips and give him a firm look. “Then start explaining.”

With a remorseful look, he reaches for his wand in his back pocket.

“Oh, no, you don’t. I’m not going to be put to sleep again.” I skitter around him and for the door, but my legs give out, and I crumble to the floor. “Crap.” I hurry to stand up when his arms loop around my waist.

He picks me up, slips his arms under my knees, and carries me over to the bed like a freaking groom carrying his bride over the threshold. Which would be a dream come true if I didn’t just find out he was a big, old liar, liar, magic wand on fire.

“Put me down,” I gripe, pushing against his chest.

He obeys, dropping me onto the bed.

I bounce as I hit the mattress and quickly start to sit up. But he climbs over me, straddles my waist, and places a hand on either side of my head.

“You know, this whole straddling thing is starting to get old,” I quip, bucking my body upward to try to fling him off while pushing on his chest.

Grinding his teeth, he captures my hands and traps my wrists together. “And I thought I told you that writhing your hips to get a guy off you is never going to work.” He pins my arms above my head then lowers his face toward mine, his eyes darkening. “In fact, it’s going to make them want to stay on you for a very long time.”

I slowly catch on to his underlying meaning and snort a laugh. “Dude, no guy is going to get turned on by me grinding up on them.”

A tired exhale puffs from his lips. “You really are clueless sometimes when it comes to guys.”

>   “Perhaps,” I agree. “At least I’m not clueless enough to let you shoot me twice in twenty-four hours’ time with a sleep spell.”

“I wasn’t going to shoot you with a sleep spell,” he insists. “I was going to put a trust charm on you.”

“Why?” I bite out. “I’m not the liar.”

“I know that.” He looks me dead in the eyes. “I was going to have you put the spell on me so you’d know you can trust me.”

I shake my head. “If you want me to trust you, then stop reaching for your wand.”

“Fine,” he answers without missing a beat. “But we still need to find a way to get you to trust me so I can get through this without you freaking out.”

“Through what?”

His relentless gaze never wavers from mine. “Telling you what’s going on.”

I want to tell him I’ll believe him—I really do—but after everything that happened …

“You could always get me a new wand? Or let me go get one?”

He shakes his head. “You can’t leave this room yet.”

My brows pull together. “What? Why?”

“Because,” is all he says.

Annoyance pulsates through me. So now I’m a prisoner?

“Then how about you go get me one,” I grit out.

Tags: Jessica Sorensen Mystic Willow Bay, Witches Fantasy
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