I didn’t recognize her and presumed she was a first-year camper from out of town. And judging by her attire, I guessed she wasn’t from another outdoorsy town, but rather someplace more exciting.
Who was she?
I decided to take pity on her. The last thing I needed was to have a new camper die on my watch, especially since I knewDagmar was keeping an extra-close eye on me. This was my last year and then I was out. There could be no mistakes, especially new campers dying of exposure.
“Hey!” I called to the witch.
She screeched and spun in my direction, her free hand lifted like she might karate chop me.
My lips curved at the sight. Great, she wasn’t just clumsy and sexy. She was adorable too.
“Practicing some impromptu self-defense in the woods?” I called.
“N-no?” she answered like it was a question, finally dropping her defensive stance and slipping her phone into her pocket.
“Are you lost?”
She squinted up at the sky. “I just came from checking in and thought I’d go for a little walk.”
I looked at my watch, then back at her. “Check-in closed two hours ago, so you’ve been walking in circles since then.”
Her brow furrowed as she twirled around to get her bearings, and her duffel snagged on a patch of brambles. “How far are we from camp?”
I stifled a laugh, not having the heart to tell her that if she took the path, the rec center was only a ten-minute walk away. “Not too far. What’s your name?”
“Gwen,” she said as she brushed her sweaty bangs off her forehead. “Listen, if you could not tell anyone you saw me and just point me in the direction of the witchy pumpkin town, I’d appreciate it.”
My shoulders shook with unrestrained laughter.
When I didn’t immediately reply, she asked, “You’re not going to put me in your stew or something, are you?”
I grinned. “I’m not that kind of witch.”
“So why aren’t you back at camp?”
“The same as you, I think,” I admitted. “I’m debating if I should run away.”
Gwen seemed almost relieved at that.
“Look, why don’t you come sit down and take a water break?” I offered my sticker-covered water bottle to her. I’d etched a spell on the bottom that kept it ice cold.
Gwen’s eyes flared like she’d been walking through the desert for a week. She bumbled her way back onto the path and plunked down on the log next to me. This close, she smelled like night-blooming flowers and slivers of moonlight on midnight sand. Dark and magical.
My eyes roved over her face, indulging themselves. “I’m Sabine.”
“Very witchy name,” she replied between gulps of water.
I shrugged. “Well, we are witches, aren’t we?”
“I wasn’t,” Gwen said, passing me back my bottle. She patted her mouth dry with her fingers, and I was impressed to see not a single smudge of the crimson on her full lips. “Or at least, I didn’t know I was one until last week.”
I quirked a brow at her. “Where are you from?”
“Most recently, New York.”
“Most recently?” I mused. “But where did you grow up?”
“Everywhere,” she replied with a shrug. “Baltimore, Tokyo, Indianapolis, London, Boston, Singapore, San Diego, you name it. My parents’ work took us all over.”
