Page 55 of How to Flirt with a Witch

She grimaces. “Anyway, Freddie can’t come down here, so you’re safe. I’ll have my sister park the car and get your stuff.”

My chest tightens. The claustrophobia of being underground doesn’t help. “How long will I have to stay?”

Her eyebrows pull down. “I promise we’ll deal with him as fast as we can. I’m sorry I dragged you into this, Katie.”

“No, it’s—” I hate what my words did to her expression. “I’m grateful you brought me here. It’s just a lot to take in.”

Her shoulders slump, and she leans in as if about to step closer again. Instead, she turns and waves me onward. “Come on.”

We walk down a hallway illuminated by more street lamps, our footsteps hollow, Ethel staying very quiet in her kennel. Disbelief washes over me that Natalie has taken me to her home.

“How big is this place?” Every footstep and swish of clothing is amplified in the brick corridor.

“It runs beneath the downtown core from Gastown to Robson Square, up Robson Street to Broughton, and along the harbor on the northeast side.”

A blurry map of Vancouver forms in my brain from my limited knowledge, which I mostly gained last week when I took Hazel and my family on a tour. “That’s… enormous. How many people live here?”

“About a hundred.”

“Since when?”

“Late 1800s.”

Good lord, witches have been living underneath Vancouver since the city was incorporated.

Ivy snakes across the walls, expanding until there’s more greenery than brick. We pass an actual tree, an oak that grows right out of the cobblestones and curves with the ceiling. There’s one explanation for a tree flourishing underground.

“CSAMM’s whole purpose is to keep magic regulated and monitored.” Natalie meets my gaze, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. “That includes keeping it a secret. I’m going to have a lot to answer for.”

Ahead, the hallway bends, a bright glow coming from around the corner.

“Natalie? How’d it go?” a deep voice calls, making me jump.

She stops, putting out an arm to stop me too. “Shit,” she whispers.

Her reaction sets my heart pounding. Are we about to get in trouble?

“The explosion is all over the news, dumbass,” someone else shouts. “Way to be subtle.”

She looks at the ceiling and draws a breath as if steeling herself. “It didn’t go down easily. Hey, listen, I need you not to freak out when I step around the corner.”

Silence.

“Are you hurt?” the second voice asks sharply, footsteps coming closer.

There’s a lot of scraping, like several chairs being pushed back.

Natalie seizes my shoulder and steps in front of me.

Ahead, at the end of the hallway, a girl strides into view and crosses her arms. She’s athletic, about my age, with a shaved head, fair skin, and smokey eye makeup, wearing a cropped green sweater and joggers. “What are you doing? Who is this?”

Footsteps scuff, and five others join her, three women and two men.

Huh, so there are male witches, too.

Everyone is dressed casually, and their expressions change to surprise when they see me.

Natalie stays resolutely between me and them. “I didn’t think you’d all still be up. I was going to—”