Page 99 of Dark Flame

“I have to go.” She nudges my chest and, even being reluctant to release her, I lift her off the machine. “Coming!” she hollers, reaching the steps.

She disappears upstairs, leaving me grinning.

My witch came to see me because she wanted to.

She just won’t admit it to herself.

Thirty-Eight

HARLOW

Banff isa lovely town with too many tourists packing the main strip that remains blocked off to cars. Carina shows me all the quaint shops and points out the best places to get snacks from, including BeaverTails; something I’ve never actually tried because my hometown—or what I believed was home—didn’t have any locations of the popular restaurant chain. The fact, when I mentioned it, was met with absolute horror before she dragged me along, ordering three cinnamon-sugar-covered ones. “The best flavour,” she described them being after the cashier rang her up.

“Hungry?” I eye the second BeaverTail she keeps after handing mine over.

“Nah, it’s for him.” She gestures to a nearby table where a guy waits, playing on his phone. He’s bent over the table, head leaning on his hand, hair that’s a combination of blond and brown covering his eyes.

He looks up at our approach, and his eyes, a masked vibrant blue, flash purple in recognition as his mouth slips open. “Shit, it’s true. I assumed Carina was fuckin’ with me.”

“Why the hell would I do that?” She scowls, rolling her eyes.

Feeling his scrutiny, I manage a small smile that’s meant to be reassuring. “I’m real.”

He offers his hand in a shake, standing to pull out a chair for me. “It’s surreal to see you, but I’m sure you don’t want to talk about all that now.”

“Hey, I’ll get my own chair, thanks. Dick.” Carina slides the BeaverTail in front of him. “And here, I went out of my way to get you a snack, and how do you repay me? By calling me a liar.”

“I mean…” For that, he earns a flick of magick that neither seems to care about mortals possibly noticing. He ignores his cousin and gets to asking me how it is being back and where I’ve been.

Sitting with them becomes natural. While they’re both lost within my locked-up brain, they feel like home. Like childhood reimagined.

Carina has sarcasm to rival Alec’s, and though Jasper is fairly stoic, he’s nice. My anxieties seem to melt away with every passing minute Carina walked me around town, and now with Jasper, it’s like none of them even existed.

As they argue back and forth about one thing or another, my mind travels back to the house and the vampire hiding from the sun in the basement, and it’s with a heavy pang to my heart, I realize Alec will never get this. He’ll never be able to see Banff during the afternoon, with the sun lighting up the wall of mountains on either side and all the shops open and vibrant with business.

Maybe I could take him around during the nighttime. It won’t be the same with everything closed, but it’s something.

Why am I trying to have a date with my unwanted vampire kidnapper-turned-stalker?

This debate brings another thought to mind. That Alec will forever be limited to the nighttime, while my life in the coven spends much of it beneath Hecate’s sun.

It’s like I’m lost between two paths, unsure which one to walk into the future on.

“Harlow?” Carina snaps her fingers, jerking me from my daze.

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, and sorry to snap, but I called your name a few times.”

Not wanting to admit where my mind was, I say, “Busy admiring the town.”

Jasper glances to his right, towards the mountain most visible and imposing. “It gets old real fast. One day, you’ll long to get away.”

Carina shoves his shoulder, scowling; a face I’m learning is her norm towards her cousin. “Big shot here thinks he’s too good for the coven.”

“Never said that.” Jasper shifts his hand over the table, and a swirl of white smoke flicks Carina in the nose. “But now’s not the time to really talk about that, is it?” He scans the area, and it’s then I notice how the street is a bit less busy, tourists beginning to hole themselves up in their hotel rooms or return to their campsites.

“Ceremony soon?” I guess, crinkling my wrapper to toss away.