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“Would you? You didn’t even know witches existed until last night.”
“She would’ve told me,” I say stubbornly.
Jesse stares at me for a long moment, then sighs. “Maybe she doesn’t know, yet. How old is she?”
“Twenty-nine,” I say, a sliver of hope threading through me.
If Steph doesn’t know she’s a witch, that means she hasn’t been lying to me. It also means Jesse isn’t lying, either. But my tenuous grasp on that reasoning disintegrates when Jesse’s expression settles into a frown.
“Witches come into their powers at twenty-two. There’s no way she doesn’t know, Eden. I’m sorry.”
“I refuse to believe this. I can’t,” I say, desperation coursing through me.
Jesse’s eyes lose focus for a moment as if he’s lost in thought, then snap back to meet mine.
“There is one other possibility,” he says slowly.
“What is it?” I ask, that bit of hope I’d lost throbbing back to life inside me.
“She could be magic-bound.”
“What does that mean?”
“A powerful witch can bind the magic of another, rendering them basically human. If someone cast the binding spell on Steph without her knowledge when she was a child, she’d have no access to her power and no idea it even exists inside her.”
I latch onto the theory and nod, unwilling to believe Steph’s been lying to me for our entire friendship. Jesse’s head jerks to the side, and I follow his line of sight to see two older women walking down the sidewalk toward us. Lacing his fingers through mine, he starts to walk, and it dawns on me that we’ve been having this whole conversation out in the open where anyone can hear.
Of course, Jesse would know if anyone got close enough to listen in.
“It’s unlikely, though.”
“What’s unlikely?”
“That Steph doesn’t know,” he says, his voice soft and gentle. “Witches are very proud of their lineage and power. To bind one of their own, especially without their knowledge, is a sacrilege. The witch who cast the spell would have to be extremely desperate. The moral and ethical ramifications are severe, and if any of the coven leaders found out…”
His words trail off as we reach our apartment building. He pulls the door open, motioning for me to precede him. With a nod of thanks, I step inside and head for the elevators. Pressing the button to call the car, I look around to make sure we’re alone before speaking in a whisper.
“I can always just ask her. She’s my best friend. She’ll tell me the truth.”
“And if she has been lying? Even if it was just to protect you? She could cast a spell to make you forget she even exists, Eden.”
“She wouldn’t,” I say after a sharp inhale.
“She might if she feels pressured by her coven. And if she’s not lying and has no idea she’s a witch, whoever cast the spell to bind her will do whatever it takes to keep the secret.”
His voice deepens on that last bit, and I don’t miss his meaning. If someone is keeping Steph in the dark, they’ll do anything to keep it that way. Including getting rid of me.
The elevator chimes, and the doors swish open. Once again, Jesse holds out a hand for me to precede him, and I step inside. He follows me and presses the button for our floor. Frustration weighs heavy on my shoulders, and I heave a sigh.
“What has my life become?” I ask aloud, throwing the question out into the universe. “My best friend is most likely a witch, and my boyfr––”
I cut the word off too late, and Jesse’s body stiffens next to me.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” I say quietly.
His hand shoots out, pressing the red button to halt the elevator. The box jolts to a stop, and I stumble back a step. Jesse’s hands grip my upper arms, steadying me before pushing me back against the mirrored wall. He leans in, bracing his hands against the wall on either side of my head as his dark eyes lock on mine.
