Page 67 of Spell Ya Later

I meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m exhausted. It was a self-deprecating joke, but it didn’t land.”

His expression softens, the tension sliding out of his limbs. “Would you like me to leave so you can get some rest? I just wanted to see you, but I don’t want to get in the way of you getting better. I left your food from Nonna in the kitchen.”

“Can—” Deep breath. “Can you stay? I sleep better when I’m with you.”

“Whatever you need. I’m yours, Hazel.”

He’s mine. I never wanted something to be mine as much as him.

“I need you.” The raw impact of the last week hits again in the second wave of the evening. My eyes burn as I allow him to wrapme up. What I wouldn’t give to be able to hide in Noah for the rest of my life. But I can’t.

The daemon who killed my father is coming after all of us now, and whatever hole I spent the last few years living in has officially closed over. I’m in this and there’s no way to get out.

The lives of my family, of Noah potentially, and myself rest squarely on my shoulders.

No pressure.

Chapter 24

Warlocks

Idon’t hear anything from Laura or Mom again. Not when I can finally start walking, not when I move back to my apartment, not when I quit teaching art classes so I have more time to focus on magic and the store, not when I start training with Grandma again.

Nothing.

I bet Mom hasn’t told Laura anything about Botis or Draven, so she’s in the dark. My texts go unanswered.

So the fate of my family rests firmly on me. And Grandma.

At least Grandma is willing to help.

“Spells are for witches that don’t have much power,” she says as we sit cross-legged on the shop floor.

It’s Sunday—training day. The fourth since I recovered from my accident. I can now levitate on demand, summon air to whip around me in a disorienting torrent, and use it to deflect most attacks. All defensive abilities.

“Then why are there so many spellbooks?” I ask.

“Because there aren’t many families with our lineage.” Her chest puffs with pride. “The Pruitt women are an ancient line, and we are well respected in our community. It is quite rare to be able to trace your powers all the way to Salem.”

“Are we really so powerful?”

“Yes. We are. Why do you think Draven is so concerned about us? A line of women who grow stronger with each generation? I’m surprised he let us go for so long.”

“And he’s not a daemon? He’s a warlock?”

She sighs. She’s come up with excuses every time I’ve asked since Botis. She’s always had an excuse, or some reason to flee to another room. “He’s a warlock. A witch that turned.”

“And how does that happen?”

“Slowly. Magic isn’t inherently evil, but it is seductive. And it’s very easy to feel invincible, like there’s nothing you can’t do. That line of thinking can turn you, turn the magic, and before you know it you can’t recognize yourself anymore.”

Gears turn in my head. “And what happens when you become a warlock?”

“The lust for power becomes insatiable.” She rubs her temples. “Power becomes everything. And you are willing to do anything for that power. Hurt, maim, kill.”

“Hence why Draven came after us. He wanted our power.”

She nods. “I can’t...I can’t speak any more about it. My tongue is locked.”