Page 77 of Reckless Witch

I gasp. It can’t be. Grams kept a journal like the one now lying on my desk in place of the chem textbook. This one appears worn, but not as worn as the one Grams kept.

I force my legs to move, right the chair and, once again, sit down at the desk. I no longer sense the enchantment that had cloaked my chemistry textbook. This has to be a spell book, right? But why would Grams hide a spell book in such an elaborate fashion? She guarded her potion recipes, as they were her largest source of income, but, at the same time, she often shared her recipes with people she felt would use them wisely. I’d never known her to go to such great lengths to hide, well, anything.

My heart takes a dive. I guess Detective Mills was right. People change.

I open the book and find the words written in an ancient language I don’t recognize. Disappointment stabs. I flip through the book. A quarter of the book is filled, all written in that strange language. No doubt, not a real language, but a code created by a spell. Fuck. I glance over my shoulder at the window. Orange and grey clouds streak the sky. Dusk is falling. It’ll be dark soon. I took a risk coming here after I left the police station, but I had wanted badly to see Stony.

Stony.

Where the hell is that pig? I snatch up the book and head for Grams’ bedroom. If Stony were here, she would have sensed what happened in my room and come running.

As suspected, she’s not in Grams’ room or the guest bedroom. Fear tightens my stomach. Easy, I tell myself. Stony is anything but helpless. She can shift at will, and she’s a ferocious warrior. My heart warms when I recall how she took on the Thol’guk. She really is my best friend.

I hurry back to the kitchen and pull open the drawer where Grams always kept paper and pencil. I ignore the surge of loneliness the familiar sight elicits and pull out one of the small pads and a pencil. I jot a quick note to Stony, telling her I had been by and promising to return as soon as possible, then attach the note to the fridge with a refrigerator magnet.

Chapter Thirty-Two

LEILAH

Intruder Alert

Forty minutes later, I direct my Lyft driver to pull off the road a quarter mile from The Academy. The driver does as I ask, but gives me a doubtful look as I pay him and get out in what he clearly thinks is the middle of nowhere in the dark. He pulls away and I head toward The Academy, Grams’ spell book safely tucked into my jeans’ waistband at my back.

I reach The Academy wall in five minutes and drop noiselessly onto the other side. It’s dinnertime, so most students are in the dining hall. That’s not to my advantage. The Academy doesn’t treat the kids quite like public high school students, but it’s far easier to pass unnoticed in a crowd. It would be just my luck to get spotted by one of The Three or by a damned Watchman.

I scurry through the trees, then break out onto the walkway when no one is in sight. On the walkway, I slow to a stroll. Better to appear casual than like a person trying to hide something. If I’m stopped, the worst I’ll be accused of is taking a walk—well, that and breaking out of a spell-bound room.

I reach the dorm and slip inside my darkened room. If I play my cards right, I can come and go as I please and no one will be the wiser. I turn, lean against the door, and release a breath. The aroma of food wafts to me. My jailer must’ve left dinner on my desk and then left, thinking I was sleeping beneath the covers where I’d stuffed the pillows. I’m a little surprised that he didn’t notice the spell no longer surrounds my room. Maybe Raith sent a minion to deliver the food. This arrangement might work out.

My stomach growls. The food at The Academy is excellent and I’m hungry. I push away from the door and pull my t-shirt over my head as I head for the desk. I toss the shirt onto the chair to the right of the desk as I reach for the cover of the food, then freeze.

I’m not alone.

My heart pounds. Blade’s magic is supposed to keep me from leaving and prevent others—my would-be killer, for instance—from entering.

I grit my teeth and throw out my senses in an effort to draw a bead on the intruder’s whereabouts. The sigil heats with unexpected intensity, but not before I realize he’s to my left. I whirl, throwing my leg high for a roundhouse kick. Strong fingers seize my ankle and yank. I topple backwards onto the bed, yank my legs up, and encircle my assailant’s waist. When I tighten my legs with all my might, he gives an audible woof as air rushes from his lungs.

Gotcha! I think, and twist.

He grunts and goes down, but not as I expect. His heavy body falls on me the way a one-ton bull crashes to the ground. The breath rushes out of me and I wheeze while reaching for my magic. The sigil heats to singe level and I can’t halt a cry.

“If you think distracting me with your body will keep you out of trouble…”

I recognize Blade’s voice and freeze.

“Well, you might distract me,” he continues. “But trouble will still follow.”

I’m suddenly aware of every hard plane of his muscled chest against my nearly bare torso. Then there’s the erection that’s digging into my abdomen.

“What the fuck?” My protest comes out a hoarse whisper that sounds sexy.

“My sentiments exactly,” he says, though his voice doesn’t hold the sensual note it usually does.

“What are you doing creeping into my room?” I demand.

“You’re the one who snuck out,” he replies.

I try to draw a deep breath, but he’s damned heavy and is making no effort to lift his body off mine.