TWENTY-FIVERUNE
RUNE CROUCHED UNDER ANabandoned card table across the room, her heart pounding wildly, her face glowing with heat. A crimson moth signature fluttered in the air next to her head, the only trace of herGhost Walkerspell.
She watched Gideon push through dancers and card players, searching for her. She couldn’t see the police officers but assumed they were still in the room. So long as no one looked under the tables, she was safe. She only hoped her spell wouldn’t fade before the staff put them away at the end of the night.
That kiss…
It had started as a way to shore up their facade, but quickly descended into more. Rune had lost control of herself, overcome.
The things he did to her, just by touching her…
Briefly, she’d thought it was the same for Gideon. That he craved her the way she craved him. But then something changed. While Rune softened, Gideon stiffened. It was unmistakable.Undeniable.Gideon had pulled away in disgust—she’d seen it plain on his face.
Because I’m a witch.
And though he might be attracted to her, the moment he’d remembered what she was, he couldn’t override his revulsion. It didn’t matter how much he might like kissing her; she repulsed him.
Of all the boys in the world, why did she have to fall in love with the one who could never, ever love her back?
Why couldn’t she shoot these feelings dead?
From her hiding spot, she watched Gideon stride into the hall. The moment he was gone, she breathed a little easier.
Until Abbie followed him out.
Rune’s eyes tracked the girl. Knowing now the two old friends had been anything but, her chest tightened. From their inability to stay away from each other, she concluded that one or both wanted to be more than friends again.
Rune closed her eyes. She might not be able to kill off these feelings. But she could run from them.
So that’s what she did.
Crawling out from beneath the card table, she crept through the boisterous room, unseen. She would head for the boiler rooms and finish what she’d started. This time without Gideon stopping her.
TWENTY-SIXGIDEON
RUNE WASN’T IN THEIRcabin. Gideon could only assume she’d used her invisibility spell to elude him. If she didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t find her.
He turned to the mirror on the clapboard wall, its surface cloudy with age. Pulling off his shirt, he stared at the brand on his chest. The scar still flared ember-red and was hot to the touch.
Gideon remembered the tiny sound Rune had made when his fingers stroked down her throat. Every muscle in his body tightened at the thought of that sound. Of her throat. Ofher.
He could never be with Rune, even if he wanted to be.
Cressida had made sure of it.
He wanted to put his fist through the glass. To take a jagged piece and cut the brand out of his skin. He was about to search the room for Rune’s casting knife to do just that when a knock on the door stopped him.
Hoping it might be Rune, he swung it open.
It was Abbie.
Her auburn curls were loose around her shoulders, and her white blouse was half tucked into her pants.
This wasn’t great timing. But it had been Abbie he’d initially gone to find after the argument with Rune. Now that she was here, he might as well use the opportunity to ask if she was Harrow’s spy.
Abbie stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her, forcing Gideon to back up a step.
“We need to talk,” she said.
