Page 19 of Alchemy of Secrets
If it had been earlier in the night, neighbors would have probably been out walking their dogs, and someone would have definitely noticed a young woman without any shoes stepping out of a car that had parked in front of the only house on the street without the porch light on.
Every window was dark and the house was quiet as Gabe exited after her. He was taller than she’d realized in the car. She could feel him towering over her, walking too close. Close enough that she imagined if she were to take more than one step away, he’d grab hold of her and pull her back to him.
His knuckles brushed against her fingers. “Don’t even think about running,” he whispered.
“I’m barefoot. You think I could get very far?” Holland kicked and wiggled her toes.
Gabe’s eyes dropped to her legs. He looked unamused, but she swore his eyes lingered on her bare calf before traveling up to where her skirt had hitched up on her thigh.
For a second, Holland lost her balance.
Gabe immediately grabbed her arm, steadying her. Then just as quickly, he dropped it, as if he didn’t want to touch her. “Just don’t,” he ordered. “I can’t keep you safe if you run.”
“According to what you just said in the car, you can’t keep me safe at all.” Her voice came out snappier than she’d intended. If it had been anyone else, she would have apologized, but she was fairly certain Gabe was half the reason she felt snappy.
A gust of wind pushed a rocking chair forward and back as Holland and Gabe reached the Professor’s door. Unlike her neighbors, the Professor hadn’t decorated. There wasn’t so much as a miniature pumpkin, just the rocking chair and a doormat that read Of All the Gin Joints .
The Professor didn’t decorate for Christmas, but she loved Halloween.
Usually, she went all out for the holiday.
She made elaborate jack-o’-lanterns and hung strings of candy corn lights.
Last year, she even put up one of those fake door knockers shaped like a skeletal hand.
Holland found it more than a little worrisome that she hadn’t done anything this year.
“Doesn’t look like your Professor is home,” said Gabe.
Holland knocked on the door. She knew he was probably right. The house was too dark and too quiet, but she couldn’t help hoping. Hope was all she had tonight.
“Professor, it’s me, Holland,” she cried. Then she rang the doorbell and knocked harder.
The house creaked. A ghost made of sheets swayed in a nearby tree.
Gabe darted a sharp look up and down the street. “We should get out of here.”
“That’s not a real ghost,” Holland scolded.
“I’m not afraid of a sheet in a tree.”
“Good, because we can’t leave yet.”
A dark shadow covered his face. “Remember when I said, if I say go, we go?” He wrapped his hand around her wrist.
He tugged, but Holland stood her ground, toes digging into the Professor’s doormat.
“She has a journal. She calls it her sacred notebook. It’s where she takes notes on every myth and legend she teaches, as well as a few she doesn’t share with students.
There’s probably information in there that could help us find the Alchemical Heart. ”
Gabe looked unwillingly intrigued. “You know where she keeps it?”
“In her library, at the back of the house.”
“So, you want to break in?” He reached underneath his suit coat. At first, Holland wasn’t sure what he was doing. Then she saw a distinct flash of metal.
“Oh no! No guns.”
“We’re breaking into a house.”
“We are not breaking in. I know where the spare key is.”
Gabe looked as if he wanted to argue, but Holland couldn’t let him win this fight.
“The house is empty, and if someone does find us, it will probably be an elderly neighbor, and then you’ll end up killing someone’s grandparent. Do you really want to be that guy? Gabe the Grandma Killer?”
He looked at her as if he’d never heard a more ridiculous argument or seen a more ridiculous person. But he left the gun where it was, tucked underneath his jacket.
Fallen leaves stuck to Holland’s feet as she let herself into the Professor’s backyard. In the daytime, it was full of flowers and tinkling fountains. But tonight, there was only the unsettling sound of glass light bulbs being knocked together by the wind.
Holland used to wonder what genre her life would be if it were a movie.
Growing up on her aunt and uncle’s farm in Northern California made her childhood feel like one of those dramas that won lots of awards but were a little slow and boring.
Holland had vowed that when she grew up, her life would be a television show with oversaturated colors, perky pop music, and lots of kissing.
That was the path she’d been on before she’d heard about the Professor’s class.
She wasn’t sure what genre she was in now, but the colors were grittier, there was no pop music soundtrack, and it didn’t have nearly enough kissing.
Her eyes drifted toward Gabe.
Just standing this close to him felt like going the wrong way down a one-way street.
She definitely didn’t want to kiss him. But for a second it was all she could imagine.
It wouldn’t be soft. His arms would hold tight.
Painful tight. Keep her from breaking to pieces tight, until he let go, sudden and harsh, and pieces were all that was left.
Guys like Gabe broke girls like Holland.
That wasn’t what she wanted at all. Cat was wrong when she’d said Holland wanted someone who scared her a little. Holland wanted someone who made her feel safe. Who made her feel like even if the world came crashing down around her, he wouldn’t stop holding her.
But that guy wasn’t Gabe. Minutes ago, he hadn’t been able to hold on to her wrist for more than a second. Holland quickened her steps to get ahead of him.
The Professor’s personal office was reachable by two antique French doors that led onto a brick patio surrounded by overgrown roses, hardy fuchsias, and Japanese maple trees strung up with tiny glass lights that kept clanging in the wind.
The Professor hid her spare key under a grumpy garden gnome that glared at Holland as she picked it up.
“You don’t need that,” Gabe said, as Holland retrieved the key.
“I told you we’re not breaking in,” she argued.
“We’re also not the first ones here.” He pressed two fingers against one of the Professor’s French doors, easily pushing it open.
A second later, all the lights switched on.
And then, everything was chaos.