Page 140 of How to Flirt with a Witch

We get out, and before Hazel climbs into the driver’s seat, I stop her for a hug.

“Be ready to get out of here in case things go south,” I say into her shoulder.

She leans back, searching my face. “Are you sure I can’t help—”

“I need you to go get Ethel. You’re her godmother.”

She dips her chin and gets in, looking tiny and fragile in Natalie’s car. As she pulls the seat all the way forward and adjusts the mirrors, Natalie steps up beside me.

“Ready?” she murmurs.

I meet her dark eyes, finding a storm that reflects everything going on inside me.

I nod.

With a last look at Hazel, I back up and lean into Natalie. She slides an arm around my waist and tugs me against her, and we walk toward the steam clock.

The world distorts, as dizzying as ever, and I press closer to her for support.

CSAMM’s brick hallway ripples into form—and as we land, the ground jolts beneath my feet. I stumble, my heart slamming into myribs as a quake rattles the world. The ivy on the walls twitches, bricks groaning and cracking.

I look up at the arched ceiling, grabbing Natalie’s arm as the corridor threatens to cave in and bury us alive.

As the tremor settles, a cloud of dust drifts toward us from the lounge. I cough. “Wh-what was—?”

An alarm pierces my eardrums, an oscillating howl that sends a chill to my core.

Natalie’s jaw is slack, her gaze unfocused, like she’s in shock.

“Earthquake!” Someone’s shout is all but drowned beneath the wailing alarm. “Everybody out! Let’s go.”

Natalie breaks into a run, and I hurry to follow, sprinting down the hall. The noise fills my head, smothering our footsteps and rasping breaths.

In the lounge, dust prickles my nose, a haze obscuring the air. Thunder rumbles through my bones that might be falling bricks. People rush through the debris toward the exit, indiscernible figures that could be anyone.

“Millie!” Sebastian shouts, his voice breaking.

“I’m here!” Millie yells.

The panicked cries spike my pulse, my every sense on edge. Natalie sweeps an arm out and pushes me behind her as people stampede past—five, ten, twenty witches heading in the opposite direction toward the steam clock.

Natalie reaches into the crowd to pull someone out. “Will. That wasn’t an earthquake.”

Will stares back, searching Natalie’s face as he processes her words. His gaze darts to me, a flicker of blame in his furrowed brow, as if this somehow has to do with me. But then, to my surprise, he says, “Beginning to think I was wrong about you. Good to have you back.”

A strange sensation trickles through my heart. Before I can think of a response, Fiona’s voice rises over the din.

“Not an earthquake?” Through the haze, she lifts her hands toward the ceiling, mending a large crack in the bricks. She catches Natalie’s eye and arches an eyebrow. “What was it, then?”

Natalie flicks her hand toward the corner as if to throw something, and the alarm quiets. The room descends into a ringing silence, footsteps fading down the hall as people rush to the exit.

And there—another sound. Footfall, but moving away from us, along with…

A chill sweeps through me.

A panting dog, and heavy paws thundering across the hard floor.

“Madsen!” Natalie roars. “Security breach! Every available person to the lounge!”