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CHAPTER THIRTY

By the time I arrive at the Bobcat on Tuesday afternoon, my nerves are frayed.

Are Leo and I a couple now? Has he told Avery and Aaron what happened?

Because I sure as hell haven’t. How can I tell anyone when I don’t know what’s going on myself?

Leo’s texts have been business as usual, but our messages were always a bit intimate, even before Friday night.

And yes, I’ve analyzed every word of them, like I have Chaucer, Shakespeare, and Dickens. There are no clues about our status.

Once he has his latte, he joins me on our usual couch by the fireplace, sitting close enough that his knee touches mine.

As Aaron and Avery empty sugar packets into their coffee, he seizes the private moment to smile at me.

For some weird reason, I can’t feel any emotions coming off him, but his eyes convey his pleasure at seeing me.

And his desire to keep what happened a secret.

I stifle a sigh. No playing with the hair that flips up under his ears, no slipping my hand in his, and definitely no crawling onto his lap and kissing him until neither of us can breathe.

Hot and restless, I squirm beside him, unable to get comfortable or to hide my flushed cheeks.

Leo isn’t much better at playing it cool.

He’s talking and sipping his coffee as usual, but he’s fidgety and distracted.

Maybe because of me, or maybe because of all the weird looks Avery keeps shooting him.

Our meeting on Thursday is even more awkward.

The four of us talk about classes, spring break plans, even the weather, for god’s sake.

It’s like those stiff five-minute chats at the sorority houses all over again.

Part of me wants to just blurt, “Fine, Leo and I made out the other night. There. Now can we just move on?”

Fed up with feeling like I’m at a dinner party in a Jane Austen novel, I tell everyone what I’ve learned so far about hedge riding. Eyes lighting up, Avery digs her phone out of her crocheted bag and starts typing a list of all her favorite resources.

“Remember, don’t do any of this alone,” she warns before hitting send.

“Oh, I know,” I assure her as my phone pings in my backpack.

On our way out of the student center, I pull Leo aside. He glances over his shoulder before coming nearer, giving me a smile that makes my knees go weak.

“Will you help me?” I ask. “I want to try another meditation. For an animal guide.”

“Of course.” His fingers graze my faerie pin, then trail down the length of my ponytail.

“Sunday, maybe?”

He nods. “But why don’t you come over to my place? That way we won’t have to worry about Liv.”

Heat ripples up my chest and down my thighs. Are we still talking about hedge riding?

I walk to Brit Lit all hot and bothered, but as I settle down, the misgivings creep back in. Why the secrecy? What does Leo want? He said it was me, so what’s standing in his way?

After class, I drop my backpack off in my room and go across the hall to help Caitlyn edit her political science paper.

When I get back an hour later, Liv starts in on me about going with her tonight to the party at O-Chi.

I tell her the truth—that I have too much work to do— but she’s not taking no for an answer.

I’m about to escape to the library when I get a text from Leo:

Meet me at the library?

Me: I’m actually already headed there. See you soon.

On the short walk across the quad, I wrestle my excitement down to a low hum, but the butterflies come fluttering back as I reach the library’s third floor. No surprise, I find Leo among the history stacks, sitting perpendicular to the shelves, his legs stretched out across the aisle.

When I take my place beside him on the floor, he scoots until the whole side of his body presses against mine. He’s warm and smells so good. How am I supposed to study when all I can think about is kissing him?

I try to read for Brit lit while he browses book after book from a stack at his knee. Occasionally we sneak frosted animal crackers out of his backpack. We’ve fallen right back into our usual library routine, although it feels different now that we’ve ventured out of the friend zone.

“Have you read this?” I ask him, holding up Sir Gawain and the Green Knight .

He nods. “Great story.”

“Is he supposed to be Pan?”

“The Green Knight? Yeah, lots of people think so.”

“It makes sense. He’s both natural and supernatural.”

Leo leans in close to see the pages. “Where are you?”

I glance up at him, fighting the urge to slide my fingers along his jaw and bring his lips down to mine. “He’s just gotten to the lord’s house.”

“You’re getting to the best part.”

“Yeah, but I have some concerns about the lady. Is she trying to seduce him?” Surely Gawain is too strong and too pure to give in to her wiles.

Leo smirks.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you? ”

“I wouldn’t want to ruin it for you.” His mouth is inches from mine, his voice low and warm. Intimate. But instead of closing the distance between us, he snatches my hand and presses his lips to the back of my fingers. And god, it’s such a turn-on.

I clear my throat as I lay my book face down on my lap. “What are you reading?”

His eyes have already returned to the words in front of him. “A book on Paracelsus.”

“I’ve heard the name.” Barely, but seeing as I can’t concentrate, we may as well have a conversation.

“He was a sixteenth century philosopher. And an alchemist. You know the four elements, right? The building blocks of nature?”

I’ve learned a good bit about them in my reading and research on witchcraft. “Earth, air, fire, and water.”

Leo nods. “Paracelsus believed that there are mythical creatures that embody each element.” He flips to a chart in the book, then to several Renaissance era illustrations.

“So gnomes are earth, sylphs are air, salamanders fire, and undines water. They’re like your Green Knight—of nature, but also super natural.

Spirits that have material bodies. What we call Elementals now. ”

Greedily, I take command of his book, flipping back to the woodcut of a salamander. “These are on some of the Tarot cards.” Mostly on Wands, the suit associated with fire.

Leo’s brown eyes sparkle, even in the unnatural blue light. We bend our heads together over the pictures, his hair tickling my temple.

“Look at this,” he says, turning to a spread of river nymphs, mermaids, and some pretty horrific-looking sirens. “The folklore of almost every culture has undines of some sort, but the Japanese?—”

Suddenly, I feel prickly all over. And hot.

Like I’ve stepped out of a cool building into a blast of summer heat.

Leo’s mouth moves, but I can’t make out his words.

I swallow and turn back to the book, trying not to give the sensations my attention.

But instead of going away, they build and wind tighter .

I suck in a breath, clutching Leo’s arm as my stomach plummets. There’s no ignoring it. Somewhere nearby, someone is experiencing intense emotions.

Ugly emotions.

“What is it?” The book slides to the floor as Leo turns to me and takes hold of my chin. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head. I can never answer that question. I can’t identify the energy until I’m right in the middle of it, and by then it’s too late to warn anyone. Whatever bad thing is happening right now is already in motion.

Thank god Leo is alert. While I struggle to cut through the static, he’s taking in our surroundings, watching for the first sign of trouble.

With him beside me, I can take the time I need to read the vibes I’m picking up.

Dark but not black. Angry. Indignant. The tension is a lot like what I felt when Liv was fighting with her parents.

I exhale. Yes, something is wrong, but it’s not catastrophic.

Nothing is on fire. No one is gravely injured. There’s no active shooter.

I loosen my grip on Leo’s arm. “Someone’s angry.”

He’s only half listening, his gaze directed over my head toward the center aisle. “Not just someone. Zander.”

“Zander?” I look over my shoulder, seeing no one but the same few students who’ve been parked in their carrels all evening.

“He just passed by.” Leo gets to his feet, tense and defensive. “He’s looking for someone.”

My pulse revs. “For me.” I sit up on my knees and shove Leo’s backpack at him. “Go.”

For a heartbeat he freezes, but when understanding kicks in he does exactly what I ask, disappearing around the far end of the stacks.

At the same time, from the other direction, someone barks my name. I whirl around and find Zander, blue eyes burning into me from all the way down the aisle.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him, praying he didn’t see Leo.

“What? I can’t use the library? ”

In the year that I’ve known him, he’s never voluntarily come here. Not even for research.

“Because I’m a stupid frat boy?” His voice is even, but his lips are drawn back in a snarl. Tension rolls off him and consumes the space between us. “Not like your new boyfriend, huh?”

He prowls toward me and I scramble to my feet. The closer he gets, the stronger the smell of alcohol.

“Zander, don’t make a scene.”

“No scene, babe, I promise. I didn’t come here to fight with you. I came to warn you.”

Warn me? “How did you know I was here?”

He shrugs. “Your BFF’s on my side.”

Dammit, Liv.

Zander props a shoulder against the stacks and crosses a foot over his ankle. Mr. Calm, Cool, and Collected. But he’s buzzed and seething underneath that composed exterior. “So I hear you’re a witch.”

I shake my head.

“Been doing a little sorcery?” He sneers and wiggles his fingers like he’s sprinkling fairy dust.

I’m still shaking my head.

His mocking expression melts into a look of pity. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

I straighten my back and glare up at him. “What I do is none of your business.”