Page 99

Story: Bewitched

I follow the sound, pawing through the remains of my outfit from last night.

Bzzzzzzz.

I snatch up one of my boots and flip it over. My phone tumbles out before hitting my floor with athunk.

I have time to see the caller is Sybil, but as soon as I snatch it up, the call ends.

I’m about to call her back—half dreading all I’m going to have to tell her—when I realize there’s a nauseating number of texts and missed calls on my phone that I must’ve slept through.

Oh Goddess, is Sybil all right?

I panic scroll through them.

Did you have a fun night last night?

Was Kane everything you ever dreamed of?

Okay, I’m assuming you’re asleep from a night of raging sex, but please text me.

Holy fuck, WHAT HAPPENED?

WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING?

IF YOU DON’T TEXT ME BACK NOW I’M COMING TO YOUR ROOM.

Okay, I was totally a stalker and I peeked into your room and you’re passed out and snuggling your familiar like he’s a body pillow and it’s so damn cute.

Beneath the text is a picture my creep of a best friend took of me asleep with Nero.

Itiskind of a cute picture.

Okay, I’m going to let you sleep, babe. Find me when you wake up.

PS I’m going to let you sleep *a little*. Might start calling you if I get impatient.

Now that I know my friend is okay—despite the fact I freaking left her behind last night to go bang a werewolf (come on, Selene, do better)—my whole body relaxes, the tension seeping out of me.

She’s good. No murderer is keeping her hostage. She’s just worried about me.

As I hold the phone, another text pops up.

PPS I passed on your number to Sawyer who’s passing it along to Kane. Whatever happened last night, he’s still super into you.

I groan. There’s no way in hell Kane is still into me. As for me, setting aside Memnon’s threat, in the harsh light of day, after all the booze and bad decisions, I’m not actually sure how into Kane I am.

A worry for another time.

I text Sybil back that I am alive and okay and that I will find her and fill her in about what happened as soon as I can.

After I finish typing out my response, I notice another text from last night, one from another unknown number.

I stare down at the text message on my phone, trying to make sense of what I’m reading.

Hey, this is Kasey. Can’t wait to see you at the circle tomorrow. 10 P.M. Library.

Wait, I agreed to do a spell circle, didn’t I?

Shit. Is that tonight?

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