Page 27

Penny

AS MILTON MURMURS A SPELL, ALONSO’S SKIN KNITS TOGETHER LIKE cloth, the redness fading to purple. Penny is mesmerized by it. When it’s over, the cut is halfway healed, but Alonso has a faraway look in his eyes.

During the blood oath, it was like the air was sucked out of the room. There was a moment when Alonso looked past Milton, and whatever he saw made him pale as a ghost. His skin turned gray, and he looked almost translucent. As if he was in the room with them, but also not. All Penny knew was she needed to make him see her instead, to keep him present. It was a strange instinct, and who knows if it even worked.

Why did you agree to this? Penny wants to ask. Why didn’t you bail?

Before this summer, if you had asked Penny whether Alonso De Luca would willingly risk his life to help a random girl and his family’s greatest enemy, Penny would’ve laughed. Now she can’t make herself say anything.

She doesn’t know the true Alonso. Nobody does.

Penny sidles up to Alonso and places a hand on his shoulder. It’s kind of pathetic, but it’s better than doing nothing. Alonso looks up at her, his forehead gleaming with sweat.

Then he shrugs her hand off.

Penny looks away, trying to hide how red her face has become. She shouldn’t have touched him; she crossed the line. It’s not like they’re friends. They have a common goal and that’s it.

If only Milton could snap his fingers and make Penny disappear.

Corey stands off to the side of the room, pressed against the curtains with his arms crossed. “Does this mean you’ll help us?”

“I’ll help,” Milton says, “but I’m going to keep a distance.”

“Then you won’t do the curse-breaker spell with us?” Penny says. “Even after Alonso signed the blood oath?”

“I’m going to keep Alonso’s secret,” Milton says, rolling up the scroll. “But I don’t want to bring bad luck on my family because I got my hands dirty with the curse-breaker. I can give you resources and that’s it.”

Penny grits her teeth. Alonso nearly died, and Milton is going to give them “resources.” He sounds like a bad guidance counselor. “We need more than that.”

“I’ll send you a link to SkyCat. It’s the online database of magical texts. You’ll be able to look through case studies of previous curses, read through their incantations, see what items they used to anchor the spell. That’ll have to be enough.”

Except it’s not. Before she can stop herself, Penny says, “Have you ever thought that maybe it’s not right to punish an entire coven for the mistakes of one witch?”

Now they’re all looking at her. Milton’s eyes have been kind, but now they’re guarded.

“This isn’t your world,” he says, “so save your feedback.”

Alonso pushes to his feet. He’s shaky, but Penny doesn’t try to help him. Her hand is burning from when he shrugged her off.

“There’s one more thing you can do,” Alonso says.

Milton doesn’t look convinced, but he waits for Alonso to continue.

“You can tell us if there were any other active covens in Idlewood at the time the Barrions were cursed,” Alonso says.

Corey tenses, but he doesn’t argue. Milton raises an eyebrow. “Why does that matter?”

Penny jumps in. “We need to cover all our bases. If there’s even the slightest chance that this curse could’ve come from another coven, we need to know.”

Corey shakes his head. “C’mon, Penny. Really?”

Penny swallows, remembering the face of Giovanni De Luca. Whether her dream really happened or not, he certainly looked like the kind of person who would curse generations of people because of a bruised ego. But she makes herself say, “It can’t hurt to know for sure.”

Milton considers Alonso. “Do you have any reason to believe Giovanni was innocent?”

Alonso pushes his hair out of his eyes. “I know my grandpa was the likely candidate. But my family was always convinced there was more to the story.”

“Of course they were,” Corey mutters.

“Alonso said the curse-breaker could take a lot out of us,” Penny says. “We might not be able to try the spell again. This could be our only shot.”

Milton nods. “Not sure it’s worth our time, but I’ll look into it.” He holds up the blood oath. “I guess I owe you that much.”

“I guess you do,” Alonso says.

Corey pushes off the wall. He walks over to Alonso, who glares at him.

“C’mon,” Corey says. “I’ll help you get outside.”

Alonso looks like he might argue, but the fatigue must win out, because he nods. It would be kind of sweet if Penny could forget that Alonso just braved death. As Corey and Alonso shuffle out to the Prius, Penny hangs back by the door.

“You have another question?” Milton says.

Penny nods. “It’s about the shadow figure.”

“The what?”

“It’s this… creature. It looks like a shadow, and it appears in front of Corey’s family when someone is about to die.”

“Oh.” Milton’s brow furrows. “I’ve heard of stuff like that. Sometimes long-term spells like curses, bargains, magic that influences relationships—they can have physical manifestations.”

“So it’s not sentient?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Fear constricts Penny’s throat. “Then it’s alive.”

“It’s better if you look it up on SkyCat. And I know you didn’t ask my opinion, but I wouldn’t tell Corey what you find. He’ll be better off not knowing.”

On the other side of the parking lot, Corey has gotten Alonso into the front seat and is now leaning against the car, staring up at the sky. He looks distant. Mournful.

“Can these… manifestations appear in dreams?” Penny asks.

Milton rubs the stubble on his chin. “Dreams can be a connection to the Second World. Astral projection is the most obvious example of that. I guess this shadow could use dreams as a conduit if it was really trying to make a point.”

“So it can communicate? Does that mean it’s…”

Human . Penny doesn’t say the word, but it hangs in the air between them.

Milton looks away. “You’ll see.”

Unease settles in Penny’s limbs. Milton’s eyes find Alonso again, and he nods in his direction. “Be careful with that one.”

Penny suddenly feels defensive. “Why?”

“That kid was born with his magic locked away. If he’s telling the truth and nobody helped him access it, there’s only one explanation.”

“Which is…?”

“He’s powerful, Penny. So powerful that his magic broke free on its own. And if it’s misused…” He shakes his head. “You’ll need a miracle to get out of this alive.”

“I hope you’re happy,” Alonso says.

The anger in Alonso’s voice makes Penny’s hands tighten around the steering wheel. Corey is quiet in the back seat. They’re halfway home, but Alonso’s silence seemed worse than his rage. Now that he’s opened his mouth, Penny wishes they could return to quiet fuming.

“Do you need to go to the hospital or something?” Corey asks.

Alonso is exhausted but tense, like a rubber band ready to snap at the slightest tug. Corey’s words seem to take the fight out of him, and he slumps in his seat. “No.”

They fall back into silence. Thirty miles outside Idlewood, Penny pulls into a Mobil station. There’s nothing around but cornfields and distant forests and power lines barely visible in the night. A quarter moon hangs above them like a ticking clock—only a few weeks to go. Then they can do the curse-breaker, and Penny’s mom will be back. She has to believe that.

“I’m getting some food,” Corey says, and he’s out of the car quick as summer lightning.

“I’ll get the gas,” Alonso says, and he doesn’t give Penny the chance to argue.

There’s a hum as the tank fills up. Penny avoids looking in her side mirror for as long as she can, but curiosity wins out. It’s bizarrely domestic, seeing Alonso De Luca at a gas pump. His brow is furrowed as he watches the price rise on the tiny screen. In the dim overhead light, the lines of his profile are stark, and Penny follows them from wild hair to slightly crooked nose to lips to chin.

When Alonso gets back in the car, Corey is still in the convenience store. The night is warm, and Penny leaves her window down. The air smells like a mix of gasoline and green leaves and soil.

Alonso shifts in his seat. “I know it was Giovanni. I’m not lying to myself.”

Penny senses there’s more he wants to say, so she doesn’t argue with him. She just listens.

“The Council sealing our magic, the exile… it’s the least we deserved. I shouldn’t have my magic right now. Nobody should have the power to do what he did.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple.”

“It has to be. That’s what keeps witches from trying dangerous magic.” Alonso lets out an exhausted laugh. “Sometimes my mom and my aunts seem completely lost. We can say we’re witches, but we’re stranded in a world of mortals who only know how to be afraid of us.” He leans back on the headrest, staring at the ceiling of the car. “I feel helpless.”

Penny is afraid to breathe. Something about this moment feels miraculous. Alonso is open like a pocketknife—she can see him clearly, and if she’s not careful, he could hurt her. But maybe she wasn’t so far off when she thought they might become friends. Even though this moment feels more intimate than friendship.

No. What does that even mean? Penny pushes that thought far, far away.

“You’re not helpless,” she says. “You just wrote a blood oath. You called rain. I’m convinced you can do anything.”

Alonso’s mouth twitches, like he’s trying not to smile. “Careful. You’re giving me an ego.”

“You already have an ego.”

“Touché.” Alonso smirks, his eyes on her face, strands of blond-and-blue hair brushing his cheekbones. Then his smile fades, but his eyes are still on her. His lips part like he’s speaking ghosts of words instead of the words themselves.

“What is it?” Penny whispers.

“I wanted you to know,” Alonso says, “that I didn’t break Eric Lim’s arm.”

Everyone at Idlewood Central knows that story. Eric Lim was playing baseball in gym class, and he and Alonso were on opposing teams. When Eric caught the ball right before Alonso reached home plate, Alonso pushed him, and he hit the ground so hard he broke his arm.

Alonso is dangerous. Someone to stay far away from. That’s what Penny has always believed.

And now they’re sitting together in her car in the middle of nowhere, listening to cicadas and soft country music playing on gas station speakers. And Alonso is telling her it isn’t true.

I wanted you to know . That’s what he said.

“What happened?” Penny asks.

“We ran into each other. I swear it was an accident, but suddenly everyone was talking like I did it on purpose. Even Eric knew I didn’t mean it.”

“Why didn’t Eric tell people the truth?”

“He did, once or twice. This isn’t his fault, though. People decided I did it before they asked any questions. You’ve heard all the other stories. If I beat up Idlewood’s Golden Boy and let all of those frogs loose—”

“Which you did?”

“Yeah, but only because they looked really sad. I tried to put them in this box so I could bring them outside, but the box fell, and then it was frog city. I didn’t mean for it to turn into the worst day of that biology teacher’s life.”

Penny pictures Alonso fumbling with a box of frogs. “That’s adorable,” she says before she can stop herself.

Alonso flinches, and Penny looks away, her face red again. Adorable? Why does she keep humiliating herself around him? This is becoming a habit.

“Anyway,” Alonso says, “you can see why people would believe I’d break someone’s arm.”

“Then why don’t you say something? Tell people they’re wrong.”

“Would that change life for your mom?” Alonso asks. “If she went around denying all the rumors?”

Penny presses her lips together. Anita Emberly has her reputation for a reason, but not every rumor is based in fact. Yes, she really showed up at the public pool in a thong bikini and got arrested for public indecency. No, she’s never slept with the café’s landlord. Yes, she’s bisexual. No, she didn’t immediately get over her husband’s death and forget he ever existed. But Anita’s reputation isn’t built only on the stories about her. It’s a feeling people have. It’s what they decide to project onto her, and once people have made up their minds about who someone is, it’s difficult to change their perception.

And when it comes to Alonso, Penny has been guilty of that, too.

There’s that thought again. That Alonso didn’t have to sign the blood oath, but he did it anyway. He isn’t who Penny thought he was.

Alonso runs a hand through his hair. “This is happening to your mom because of me. I fucking hate that.”

“No,” Penny says, suddenly exasperated. “This isn’t your fault. We’re not our families. You’re not your grandfather.”

Alonso’s eyes soften, and the light from the gas station catches on his mouth. Suddenly Penny is staring at it, and she has to make a conscious effort to drag her eyes back up to his.

“Nobody’s ever said that before,” Alonso whispers.

Penny’s throat is too dry to speak. It’s the feeling she’s used to having around Alonso—wanting to look away, to run away, to fade until he doesn’t notice her. Except now it’s different. She isn’t afraid he’ll say horrible things or try to make her afraid.

She’s afraid he’ll stop paying attention. That he’ll fade from her life like a memory.

As if he can read her mind, Alonso leans in.

The moment stretches, and Penny can hear her heartbeat in her ears. Is this really happening? Or is Penny having some gasoline-fume-induced fever dream in which Alonso De Luca is reaching over to rest his hand on the back of Penny’s seat, and getting so close she can feel his breath on her mouth?

This doesn’t make sense, except maybe it does. She thought Alonso hated her, that his attention only proved it. But now Penny is standing in a new spot, looking at him from a different angle, and what if…

What if she closed her eyes and leaned in, too?

The door to the back seat opens, and the moment shatters like glass.

By the time Corey gets in the car, Penny and Alonso are in their own respective spheres of personal space.

“All set?” she says, mentally slapping herself when her voice cracks.

“Yeah,” Corey says. Penny can almost feel him looking between them. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” Penny says, but Alonso says nothing. He’s gazing out the window, arms crossed over his chest.

There’s the crinkle of a candy wrapper in the back seat. “Penny, do you want a Reese’s?”

“Sure.”

“I really hope you’re going to offer me one, too,” Alonso says.

Corey doesn’t answer, but a moment later, a miniature Reese’s flies onto Penny’s lap, and another lands on Alonso’s.

“Nice,” Alonso says. “You owed me one, anyway.”

“You’re never going to let me forget that blood oath, are you?”

Alonso doesn’t answer. He just pops the Reese’s into his mouth and starts scrolling through his phone.