Page 38 of The Witch's Pet

I open my mouth, trying to decide how I feel about this. Am I flattered? Offended?

Then she adds in a murmur so low I almost miss it, “I think you would have made a good witch. There was a time when men would have wanted to burn you at the stake.”

I grin. “Thank you.”

We take seats near the front this time, since a group of noisy teenagers is taking up the back of the bus, playing music from a small speaker.

Julia sighs. “Today’s music is strange. But I suppose it matches your performance in the saloon.”

I whip my head toward her. “Excuse me?”

“The singing.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Enthusiastic, certainly. Tuneful? That’s generous.”

My mouth falls open. “I was creating a distraction, not auditioning for a musical.”

“And what a distraction it was. I’m surprised they didn’t pay you to stop.”

“You know what? You’re welcome. Since myperformancebought you the time you needed.”

“I could have managed without the amateur theatrics.”

“Right, because you’re managing so well tonight. You can’t even use a phone.”

She smirks. “I’ve spent my whole life free of your modern trinkets.”

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t have survived the last few hours on your own.”

The smirk falters. Ten points to me.

Julia turns to look out the window.

“What sort of music did you listen to in the 1800s?” I ask.

“Not this assault on the senses, I assure you.” She wrinkles her nose and glances back at the teenagers.

“Classical snob.”

“I prefer music that doesn’t make me long to be put back into a cursed sleep.”

I shouldn’t smile at that, but my lips curve anyway. The adrenaline and small victory make me feel lighter than I have all day. It almost feels like we’re normal. Like I have no reason to be afraid of her.

11

Hannah

Whenwegetoffthe bus, we speed-walk around the corner to Maya’s apartment building, Julia’s cloak billowing and my sweater just…soggily flapping. Ugh, she’s so much cooler than me.

We get to the glass doors, and before I’ve finished saying, “It’ll be locked,” the lock clicks, and it swings open for us.

“Right,” I say. “Great.”

We take the stairs to the fourth floor, where Julia blasts Maya’s door open and strides in without hesitation. Fortunately, nobody else is here.

I wince, trotting in after her and locking the door behind us. “The neighbors, Julia! You have to at least be alittle bitsubtle.”

“No time for that.” She inhales deeply and flexes her fingers as if taking in the room’s vibe or something. “Tell me if you find anything unusual.”

I flip on the light and scan the small apartment. One bedroom, one bathroom, patio at the back, plants on the windowsill. Normal enough at first glance…but heavy curtains block every window, the place smells strongly like burnt sage, and the door hasthreedeadbolts—top, middle, bottom.