Page 65 of How to Flirt with a Witch

My face tingles as I lay eyes on the sharp blade. I step closer, invisible hands wrapping around me and pulling me in.

It’s one of these two. My pulse throbs in my fingers, like they’re itching to reach for the curse.

Natalie is right behind me, a warm, solid presence.

Will whispers something to Sebastian, who shrugs and chews his chocolate bar. Fiona huffs impatiently, her heels scuffing as she adjusts her stance. The sounds grate my eardrums, making my shoulders tense.

“Th-this is all distracting,” I tell Natalie, sweat prickling under my shirt.

“It’s okay. Ignore us. Focus on what your gut is telling you.”

I look back at the items, paralyzed. I can’t tell. Maybe it’s the pressure or all the magic swirling around, but I can’t pinpoint where the sensation is coming from.

“Trust your instincts, Katie,” Natalie says.

“I’m trying!”

“If it’s going to take this long every time,” Fiona says, “then it’s not worth—”

“It’s the katana,” I blurt, my mouth dry.

Oh God,pleasebe the katana.

I don’t know why that word was the one to come out. Was that trusting my instincts, or was that a random, panicked decision?

Everyone turns to Sebastian.

My heart seems to stop beating.

Sebastian’s shoulders sag. He shakes his head. “Shit. I was rooting for ya.” A flicker of genuine disappointment crosses his face before he puts on a smile. “’Twas the bagpipes, lass!” he says in a Scottish accent.

A boulder drops into my stomach.No, no, it can’t be…

Natalie gives a tiny intake of breath. Will scoffs, almost inaudible, but the room is so quiet that it carries.

“That was my second…” I shut my mouth. Why would they believe me? I’m just some outsider trying to convince them I’m special.

Shame burns my face, hot and suffocating. I really thought I could do this. But all I’ve done is let Natalie down. After everything she risked to bring me here, I failed her.

Sebastian pockets the remainder of his KitKat and pulls out a vial. “A tragedy, really, to reduce such a noble instrument to this…”

He uncorks it and moves his open palm over the vial, using magic to lift out the amber contents. The blob contorts in the air, shimmering, before he flicks his fingers to throw it at the bagpipes. It stretches and wraps around the instrument like it’s alive, little fingers reaching until it completely covers its victim.

And as the curse pulses beneath it, I feel it more strongly than ever, beating against my skin. Frustration with myself singes me like a flame.The answer should’ve been obvious. I was just so distracted by everyone openly doubting me.

As fizzing prickles my ears, Natalie closes a hand over my arm and pulls me back a few steps.

The bagpipes make a pathetic, squeaky, drawn-out moan—which, honestly, is exactly what I’d expect dying bagpipes to sound like.

The lights flicker.

I cover my ears, ready for the explosion.

BOOM!

Where the bagpipes were, a plume of smoke dissipates, and a butterfly remains. Its violet wings twitch as it walks across the table. There’s no purple gemstone this time, but I’m too numb to analyze why.

I drop my hands, my frustration morphing into anger. This can’t be it! They didn’t give me a proper chance.