The part about Norah made sense—it confirmed how I’d been feeling about the woman. But who were these four witches? Were they from the coven? Did Haley know about them? Or were they from somewhere else altogether? Was I one of them, or was I just supposed to find them?
And what was the Three of Swords betrayal about?
“Gray Desario, you are inseriousshit.”
Startled, I looked up into the blazing eyes of the demon looming in the doorway.
Then I cracked a small, slightly guilt-laced smile and stood up, propping my hands on my hips. “Is that any way to say good morning to your favorite witch, Ronan?”
“Hey, um, favorite witch? What part of ‘dangerous killer on the loose’ aren’t you getting?” He shut the door behind him and crossed the room, gathering me into a tight hug. He was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday, one side of his face lined with faint red marks that could only be from my couch. “Jesus, Gray. I wake up to a text from Alvarez to get my ass down here, Asher’s passed out on the floor and snoring like a beast, and you’re nowhere to be found.”
“I had some errands to run. And newsflash, bud.” I poked him in the chest. “Youbothsnore like beasts. No wonder you didn’t hear me leave this morning.”
“So you admit it. You snuck out while we were asleep because you knew—”
“That you’d go all parole officer on me? Yes, exactly.” I headed to the far side of the room and leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over my chest. “I have a life, Ronan. I can’t just hole up in my house. I know you and Asher mean well, but you guys have lives, too. You’re not my personal bodyguards.”
Ronan shoved a hand through his hair and shook his head, but didn’t say another word. Just glared at me across the room, his body tensed for a fight.
After a long, tense silence, he made his way over to me, eyes locked on mine, frustration simmering between us. The closer he got, the more oppressive the air felt, and by the time he stopped in front of me the room was so hot and stuffy I thought I might pass out.
Why aren’t there any windows in here?
“You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was low and soft now, his earlier anger melting into something else—something I wasn’t ready to name. Ronan leaned in close, bracing an arm against the wall next to my head. His cloves-and-campfire scent filled my nose and mouth, and my breath caught, my heart skipping into a wild beat so loud I was sure he could hear it, too.
I felt his presence all around me, inside and out, solid and strong, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.
“I get it,” I whispered, focusing on his shoulder, on the faded, beat-up leather jacket he’d worn as long as I’d known him. “You think I can’t take care of myself.”
“I know you can, Gray—you always have.” His fingers grazed my cheek, tracing the purple and green bruises beneath my makeup. “But being able to take care of yourself doesn’t mean you’re invincible. It doesn’t mean you throw yourself into danger just because you don’t want to ask for help.”
I blinked back tears of frustration. Ronan was right. No matter how many dangerous situations I’d been in, no matter how many times I’d been forced to learn this lesson, deep down I was still acting like the same reckless, impulsive witch I’d been at sixteen, thinking I knew it all. Thinking nothing bad could ever happen to me or the people I cared about.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my heart still pounding at his closeness. His all-encompassing-ness. I finally looked into his eyes, shocked to see so much raw emotion there.
For the first time in the history of our strange friendship, Ronan had let his guard down, leaving himself completely vulnerable.
“I don’t know how else to…” His voice broke, and he shook his head, sucking in a deep breath. “Finding Sophie like that… She was my friend, too, Gray. I miss her like hell.”
My heart broke for him. I’d been so focused on my own loss, my own pain… God, Sophie had been Ronan’s friend almost as long as I had.
“I know you do,” I said, resting my hand against his chest. His heart beat strong and steady, his skin warm behind his faded blue Zeppelin T-shirt. He’d had it since I first met him—probably longer than that—and I knew where every hole was, every snag.
Ronan covered my hand with his, holding it against his chest. “Here’s the fucked-up thing, though. This little voice in my head keeps whispering, what if it were Gray? What if I’d walked in there and found the most important person in my life just… just gone?” He squeezed my hand so hard, the cut I’d made to activate Sophie’s blood spell throbbed, but I didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare do anything to break this spell between us. “I can’t... It would end me, Gray.”
“Ronan…” I felt everything at once—the weight of those words, the intensity of his gaze, the crush of his fingers, the heat of his breath—all of it making my body hum with desire even as it made my heart ache. I dropped my chin to my chest and tried to slow my breathing, but the twin sensations continued to surge through me, battling for dominance and turning my legs to jelly.
Ronan hooked a finger under my chin, slowly tilting my face until I had no choice but to meet his eyes. They were more green than brown today, fierce and intense and terrifying and beautiful.
Slowly, agonizingly, his gaze swept down my face, stopping to linger on my mouth.
“The even more fucked-up thing?” Ronan slid his hand up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing my bottom lip. “Even with all this bad shit happening, I can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to kiss you.”
Ronan leaned in close, gently brushing his lips over mine like a feather. It was short and sweet, and though it unleashed a flurry of butterflies in my stomach, it was still chaste enough to qualify as a just-friends kiss.
It wasn’t enough.
I wanted—needed—so much more. I grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him closer, stretching up on my toes to meet him halfway, my body melting against his in a way that left no doubts about my feelings on the matter.
