Page 42 of A Witchy Spell Ride

She hopped down and pulled something from her pocket, one of her little charm bags, black velvet, stitched in gold thread.

“For protection,” she said. “It’s nothing fancy. Just something to remind you that you’re not walking through this alone.”

I took it. Held it. Closed my fingers around it like it might stop the shaking in my chest. Then I sat on the stool behind the counter and finally spoke.

“The psychic told me this wasn’t random.”

Briar’s head tilted. “What do you mean?”

“She said love and danger would wear the same face. And that someone close… isn’t who they seem.”

That made the air feel heavy again.

Ghost turned around. “Close how?”

“I don’t know. But she wasn’t just talking about proximity.”

Briar nodded slowly. “You think it’s someone in the club.”

“I don’t want to.”

“But?”

“But I don’t know,” I whispered. “And that’s the worst part.”

Ghost stepped closer, slower than usual, like I was made of glass.

“You think it’s Banks?”

“No,” I said quickly.

His brow lifted.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at me,” I admitted. “It’s… intense. But not like that. It’s unspoken. Embarrassing. Maybe pathetic. But not dangerous.”

Ghost nodded, slowly.

“He’s in love with you,” Briar said.

I flinched. “Maybe. But he’d never act on it. He wouldn’t have the nerve.”

“Sometimes it’s the ones who don’t show their teeth you gotta watch,” she muttered.

“Not him,” I said again. “I think he’d rather die than scare me.”

Ghost was quiet for a beat. “So, who?”

I hesitated.

“There was someone,” I said, voice soft. “A few months back. One date.”

Briar perked up immediately. “A what now?”

I shot her a look. “It was nothing. Just coffee. A guy who came into the shop a few times. Polite. Clean. Normal.”

Ghost moved closer again, tension rolling off him in low, silent waves. “Name?”

“Adam,” I said. “He said he worked freelance tech support. Lived uptown.”