Scout shook his head and held his finger to his lips, gesturing with his head that they should leave the clearing. Lucky followed him as he led, although Scout could practically hear the gears grinding in the other man’s head.
Well, Scout had some grinding gears himself, and surprisingly enough, they weren’t from the spirit trap he and Lucky had just discovered.
He’d wanted to be friends so badly! He’d seen Lucky working in Helen’s shop the first day he and Kayleigh had arrived in Spinner’s Drift, driving the car Macklin and Jordan had left them, a small cache of accrued possessions in the brand-new suitcases in the back of the Oldsmobile Cutlass that, they had learned, was possibly the least cool car in the entire world.
But it was theirs.
Jordan and Macklin hadn’t texted them since that first day, but their friends, Jordan’s coven, had. In the weeks since Scout had first arrived, barely clothed, in the woods, they’d gotten used to someone they’d never met checking up on them via their phones. They each had their favorites. Kayleigh was partial to Kate, the only girl who texted them, while Scout had a soft spot for Bartholomew, who seemed, even via text, unbearably shy. But as comfortable as they were—and as much as it helped not feeling cut off from family of any sort, even family they didn’t know—Scout had been dying to talk to somebody in person. Someone his own age.
Someone male.
Marcus was lovely. He was kind and surprisingly chipper for someone approaching seventy, and he’d pretty much opened his home to Scout and Kayleigh after a long conversation over his counter. He’d seemed to perk up especially when Kayleigh had mentioned their brother’s name: Macklin.
“Is he, perchance, with another young man named Jordan?” Marcus had asked.
Kayleigh and Scout had given each other sideways looks. “Yes?” Scout hazarded.
Marcus had nodded. “Karma is a funny thing. You two are welcome to stay in the downstairs apartment. It’s got two beds and an attached bathroom. If you help me in the magic shop, learn to put on performances during rush hours, I can work on fixing up my little bungalow in the woods.” He’d winked. “I’ve got to make it special so my girl will move in, right?”
And then he’d introduced them to “his girl,” Helen, and hadtriedto introduce them to Lucky. Lucky’s subsequent retreat and surliness had… well, it had been a blow to Scout’s confidence.
Kayleigh had gotten another job at the resort, since Marcus didn’t have that many hours to offer, and she’d managed to make friends there, but Scout hadn’t been so fortunate.
Most of the people who watched him perform only wanted to know his magician’s secrets, and not all of the people who came into the store to buy were particularly nice.
Scout’s hurt toward someone who seemed to be in the same situationhewas, and whoshouldhave been an ally if not a friend, had built up until that day, when he’d seen Lucky watching from the doorway of the book-and-coffee shop, and Scout had wanted just a little bit of revenge.
He hadn’t expected Lucky to blow out a breath, roll his eyes, and take his punishment like a man. Nor had he expected Lucky to be so… so game, during the performance. Scout may not have been training to be a magician all his life, but he and his brothers and sistershadbeen disciplined to perform. Scout suspected it was because if they ever had interactions with people outside the compound, Alistair wanted them to be able to project aloofness, the smooth ability to get what they wanted without giving anything, not even a smile, in return.
It had obviously been lost on Kayleigh, who had flirted and giggled her way through all her recitals, and Scout, who had beenovercurious if not quiet and bookish offstage, had become flamboyant and expressive while performing. The mothers had loved them. In fact, everybody in the compound had loved them—except Alistair, who had praised the more restrained performances excessively and given Kayleigh and Scout condescending notice at best.
To find a place in which he could make magic, even pretend magic, in front of a crowd and be loved for it? Scout had been a fan immediately. But he’d expected Lucky to roll his eyes and stalk away, leaving him high and dry—again.
Instead, he’d agreed to come on stage and had made a showy production of it, almost like he’d been watching Kayleigh be the shill and had taken notes.
Almost like he’d had a guilty conscience about being a rude asshole.
But it hadn’t been until Lucky’s story about being on the run, being afraid because he didn’t want the little bit of magic he had to be stolen, that Scout truly understood, and thenhe’dhad the guilty conscience. He’d spent the last month being butthurt because Lucky had blown him off and hadn’t caught on to the fact that Lucky had been achingly lonely and very, very scared.
Scout needed to remember that he may have grown up insulated from the rest of the world, but other people had real problems too.
Sort of like the people in the soul trap, who were an entire other story.
But not distracting enough to pull Scout’s inner eye from the tiny freckles on the bridge of Lucky’s nose, or the way his hazel eyes had grown large and thoughtful when he’d spoken of his grandmother.
And definitely not distracting enough to dismiss the fact that Lucky had a wide, mobile, expressive,kissablemouth that might not mind being kissed.
Because it may have taken a minute for those words to sink in, but Scout had been too fascinated with Lucky for too long for him to shake them anytime soon.
But Alistair had drilled responsibility into him for far too long to neglect priorities, and the thing he and Lucky had just seen qualified.
Finally, they’d traveled back across the thruway and up onto the road of the tourist center. Scout glanced around and saw that the streets had pretty much cleared out, like they did after the second ferry left for the mainland. Everyone else was headed back to the resorts on one of the small shuttles provided by the hotels, and the only people left were locals who had run out of something small between their own big trips to Charlotte for supplies.
Helen’s shop wasn’t quite empty yet—locals liked their coffee and late-afternoon pastries as much as the tourists, and four o’clock was a great time to peruse a bookstore for either new bestsellers or secret used volumes—so Scout didn’t head that way. Instead he walked toward the Gestalt, the magic store, where Marcus was locking up the outside.
“Hello, boys,” Marcus said with a smile. “Did you enjoy your break?”
Scout paused, not wanting give all the bad news at once. Being told to go off to play with a potential friend was not an experience he’d gotten as a kid, but he sure did appreciate it as an adult!
