Page 9 of Of Magic and Murder

I hate how easily that thought slips in. Even worse, it happens all the time.

I’ll be reading for enjoyment and randomly wonder if he likes the same books. I’ll see Max strolling through town or walking into the bakery and think, for half a second, that his brother might be a step behind him. Sometimes I hear Honey mention the Moonshadow Pack and find myself listening for Riordan’s name.

I tell myself it’s because of the curse. For the most part, I believe it.

I saw it wrapped around him, so tightly interwoven into his dominant shifter aura that I couldn’t even begin to pick a point to starting unraveling it before he was gone. Still, I felt how powerful it was after he arrested me. When he told me to sit down and be quiet, and my body obeyed before either of us understood what was happening.

I remember his horrified face afterward more clearly than I remember the terror that rushed through me as I lost control over my own body.

I’m a cursebreaker. I’m supposed to help people like him. Instead, the last time I saw Riordan Lobo, he was walking away from my cell with the same curse he’s apparently carried for years.

So, yes. I worry even though I wish I wouldn’t. And until Serena gives me another assignment—or Riordan comes back and gives me a chance to finish what I started—I have the time.

I didn’t do this on purpose, but hell if I don’t need something to distract me…

Ash studies me for a moment before his expression softens. “Okay.”

I perk up. “Really?”

He nods. “I’ve been thinking about reorganizing the library, make it easier for patrons to find certain sections. Garnet was against that, but now that I’m head librarian… give me a couple of days to figure out how to approach this. We’ll close up until then, but if you want to help⁠—”

“I insist on it,” I say firmly. “And no magic.”

I promise.

I meant it. No magic. As if single-handedly destroying Moonburrow Library wasn’t a big enough wake-up call that I need to give up on my secret hope that I’ll one day be more than just a cursebreaker, the look on Ash’s face when he woke up and saw what I’d done… that was it. It’s not worth the damage if I can’t control my magic. And since I’ve never been able to, I decide that I’ll finally stop torturing myself by watching my spells backfire.

And that’s when I let myself in through the back entrance of Do You Believe In Magic only to find Honey sitting on a freshly cleaned counter, a worn leather book in her lap, and Gus curled up inside of the spare mixing bowl he uses as a bed when he decides to take a nap.

Her head pops up as I close the door behind me, poised to explain why I’m now a volunteer librarian.

I wonder how fast word will spread. Soon, I bet. Before I left the library, I helped Ash out by creating a ‘CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE’ sign that I taped to the door before scurrying to my car. I’m sure Ash has already told Roxy, but if the raccoon shifter got in touch with Honey, you’d never tell from the way she greets me as I walk into the kitchen.

Usually, by this time of day, Honey and Gus are already gone. The bakery closes once she sells out of most of her daily bakes, and since Honey is up and at work with the sun, it’s usually a long day for her by the time she’s going home. That she’s still here, ostensibly waiting for me… yeah. I don’t know if it has to do with the library or not, but something’s on her mind.

Especially since Honey has the kind of expression on her face that instantly has me on alert.

She’s too innocent. Throw in her pretty pink t-shirt and the way she habitually wears her long blonde hair in a pair of loose braids, and you want to believe that butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

I’ve only known Honey for a couple of months, but that’s long enough to learn that genuine innocence and trying to look innocent are two completely different things where she’s concerned. The first comes naturally to her. The second usually means that she did something Max told her not to do, Roxy convinced her something was a good idea when it wasn’t, or she’s been experimenting with one of the spells her grandmother left behind.

The battered leather book sitting open across her thighs is a pretty big clue as to what happened this time.

I know why my magic backfires. When it comes to Honey and Grandma Jean’s charmed recipes, she tends to perform the spells perfectly, but underestimates what’s going to happen. Like how she baked something called Can’t Resist Cupcakes and it turned out they were truth bombs covered in icing. The spells are too powerful for a quarter-witch, and definitely something I don’t want to mess with.

I nod at Honey. When Gus stirs, poking his head up and out of the mixing bowl, I give him a finger wave. Then I try to turn toward the doorway to the stairs that leads up to the apartment Honey is letting me rent from her before she can rope me into whatever she’s doing⁠—

“Pen! I’m so glad you’re home.”

I pause, halfway across the kitchen. “Hey, Honey.”

“I was waiting for you.”

I was afraid of that.

Honey beams at me. “Are you busy?”

Considering I escaped the library without even a single book, not really. I could prune the handful of potted herbs I’ve been growing upstairs or possibly watch something on television, but when I see the way she’s looking at me with so much hope… “Not at all. Is there something I can do for you?”