Darius chuckles. “Do you have something against Christmas?”
I shake my head as we shuffle forward in line. “No, not at all. In fact, I love Christmas. It’s my favorite holiday.” I don’t bother to tell him how I’ve always wished I could have someone special to share Christmas with. “But PSL season just started, and nowI’m torn. Should I get a pumpkin spice latte or a peppermint mocha?” I’m dead serious, too. This is a huge problem! How the hell am I supposed to choose between my two favorites?
“Hmm,” Darius hums. “I have an idea. Why don’t you get a Pumpkin Spice Latte while you still can? Then, I promise that sometime soon I’ll bring you to my tea shop and make you a peppermint concoction you will absolutely drool over.”
Tea shop?
I eye Darius curiously. He’s handsome, with chiseled angles that make him look masculine yet beautiful. He looks like a male model with all those toned muscles, or better yet, like a handsome Greek warrior sent to tempt Aphrodite herself.
In other words, he looks like a man who is into physical labor or working out, not like a man who owns a tea shop and knows how to whip up a delicious peppermint concoction. Whatever the hell that is.
Cleo boops me on the nose, causing Darius to laugh. My cheeks heat. Oh gods, they both totally caught me checking him out.
We get to the front of the line, where the cashier greets us with a wide smile. “Well,” Darius says. “What do you say? Want a pumpkin spice latte?”
I bite my lip. “Sure. But I’ll hold you to your word. You owe me.”
Darius winks. Fuck. Even the way he winks is attractive. My face flames hotter, and I clutch Cleo tighter. Turning around, I eagerly look for a reason to escape. “I-I’ll go find us a table,” I call out over my shoulder as I practically sprint away.
Locating a relatively private table in the back, I try to compose myself until Darius returns with our drinks in hand. I place Cleo in the booth next to me and reach for the hot paper cup. Darius slides into the seat across from me, studying me for a moment with that intense gaze I’m already growing used to. It’s so interesting how he can jump between flirty and serious in the blink of an eye.
Tentatively, I take a sip from my cup. Mostly to distract myself. The hot beverage is sweet and delicious, reminding me of Thanksgivings with Stacy and my foster mom. Damn, I miss Elizabeth. What would she think about all of this? Hell, she’s one of the few people who ever believed that I wasn’t crazy. She’d probably be intrigued, asking him a million questions.
Darius continues to stare at me with a determined look on his face. It’s clear he isn’t going to talk first. Either he’s giving me time to process or waiting for me to ask my questions first. “I don’t even know where to start,” I say nervously. “Obviously, I’m new to all of this. So, will you please just tell me what’s going on?”
Darius smiles. “I like the way you get to the point. There’s something sexy about a man asking for what he wants.” Is he actually flirting with me when we are supposed to be having a serious conversation?
Despite that, I find myself smiling back at him and relaxing in my seat. Wait, did he flirt with me to help ease my nerves? And why do I find that so damn sweet?
“In all honesty, I don’t know where to start either. This is the first time I’ve ever had to tell a non-believer that magic is real.”
My earlier premonition comes to mind, and I remember the conversation he had with Zero.“I was surrounded by several hundred people, some of them human and several of them not. My magic has a hard time detecting the source.”Considering the fact that we both showed up at that exact spot on the highway, I think it’s safe to assume that, yes, maybe magic is real. And yes, the conversation I overheard was real too.
“Can I ask you a question?” I start.
“Of course. Ask away.” Darius leans back in his seat with a small smile.
“Are you human?”
“No,” he answers easily. He doesn’t say anything else, and he doesn’t bother telling me what he is if not human. I’m not entirely sure I want an answer just yet.
“Am I?” I whisper.
“No.” His tone is soft now, like he’s trying to ease me into this new information. “You’re a witch.”
I blink. “A witch? Not a wizard or a mage? Aren’t witches usually female?”
“Forget what you know about witches, wizards, and mages. If you learned anything from the media or even human history, it’s probably wrong. A witch can be female, male, or nonbinary. Gender has nothing to do with the power inside of you. Being a male witch does not make you more or less powerful than another witch. Your bloodline, on the other hand?Thatcan make you really powerful. Your family comes from one of the most powerful magical bloodlines in witch history.”
I blink in shock. “My family? I don’t have any family. My foster mom and best friend are the closest thing I have”—I clear my throat—“had to a real family. My friend Stacy is still in my life. But Elizabeth passed recently.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Darius leans across the table. His hand lands on mine, and he squeezes. Next to me, Cleo leans against my thigh. “But you do have a family, Kaleb. You have a little sister. Your parents never gave you up, and they’ve been searching for you.”
I shake my head, wishing it were true. “That’s a lovely thought, but really, I don’t have any family. I’ve been in the system for as long as I can remember.”
Darius squeezes my hand again. “Kaleb. I’m serious. I’m a magical tracker who used to work for the Elite Guard. Your parents hired me to find you. They live about two hours away from here. They were able to cast a spell where I followed your magical signature to the club that night. It’s how I was able to find you. They’ve been searching for you for about twenty years now.”
I jolt at the news, my mind whirling. Only two hours away? Twenty years? “No,” I snap, yanking my hand away from Darius. “There’s no way I come from some magical family that has been searching for me for twenty years.”
