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EMBERLYNN

O nce I agree to go to the diner, the three of us cross the road and start the short walk toward it. At first, neither of them speaks, but they keep sneaking glances in my direction. I’m so lost as to why they seem so interested in me, other than perhaps because of my magical powers.

Maybe I never should’ve told them that I had them. In my defense, it was by accident, partly because I got caught up in the moment and partly because I felt this strange sense of … I guess I’d call it relief when I saw Wylder use magic on Liam to put him to sleep. But I’m regretting my confessional mishap big time. Sure, these guys have magical abilities, but that doesn’t mean I should trust them. Considering my past, I should know better than to trust everyone who possesses magic.

Apparently, I’m an idiot .

The longer the two of them slide quizzical glances at me, the more my self-consciousness grows. Unable to endure it further, I fix my attention on the sidewalk.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Wylder finally asks, breaking the silence.

I’m not used to people speaking directly to me, so I elevate my gaze to check that he is. His lavender eyes are right on me, as if he’s giving me his undivided attention, which, again, is so abnormal that it takes me a moment to answer.

“Yeah.” I have to clear my throat a few times. “I mean, I’m confused, but …” I shrug, reaching up to itch my cheek.

As my fingers brush the skin, pain radiates through my face. I wince. Dammit, I forgot Liam hit me.

Wylder’s nostrils flare as he stares at my cheek, which I’m sure is blooming with a welt. He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip then stops.

Confused, I look at Kaiden, who’s slowing down, too. He’s also looking at Wylder. I do the same, my puzzlement weaving an even bigger web when the two of them share an intense look. Then Kaiden gives a nod and both of them focus on me.

“Can I …?” Wylder starts then stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Will you let me heal your cheek?”

I furrow my brows. “You want to get me some painkillers or something?”

Shaking his head, he removes his hands from his pockets, and then, as if I’m made of fragile glass, he vigilantly reaches for my face but pauses before his fingers greet my cheek. “With my magic,” he explains. “It’ll be painless and quick. I promise.”

“You can heal with …?” I glance at a couple walking along the other side of the road. Even though there’s no way they can hear me, I still lower my voice. “Magic?”

A trace of a smile touches Wylder’s lips, and it’s seriously the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. “Not everyone can do it, but I have a special gift.”

“Of being able to heal people?” I double-check. It’s so unbelievable. All I’ve ever seen magic do is cause destruction and pain.

He nods with his gaze fastened on me.

I almost say no. Magic has never been kind to me, so why should I trust it now? Or these guys? I don’t know them at all, and yet, in the middle of my chest, I feel this strange tug toward them, like a magnet inside me and wants to connect with one inside his chest.

“Okay,” I say quietly.

He visibly relaxes, and then, with a deliberate breath, he settles his hand against my cheek. Besides what happened with Liam, I’m not positive of the last time someone has touched me. It’s been so long that I’ve nearly forgotten how warm skin-to-skin contact is. It startles me so badly that I jolt.

“Are my hands too cold?” Wylder asks worriedly.

I shake my head, feeling like a freak. “No, I’m fine.” It’s a total lie, but I don’t know him well enough to confess what’s going on in my messed-up mind .

I don’t think I’ve known anyone well enough to do that.

Skepticism masks his features, but he doesn’t comment. He intently stares at me, his eyes twinkling, and then undiluted warmth pours through my veins. His magic, I’m assuming. And he didn’t lie—it doesn’t hurt at all.

It feels so wonderful, like I want it to exist inside me forever.

And then he’s lowering his hand, taking the warmth with him.

“Better?” he checks, reaching forward again and brushing his thumb across my cheekbone.

I nod, my heart a frazzled mess.

Thankfully, when I speak, my tone is as feeble as it typically is. “I think so.” I place my fingers against my cheek as he removes his hand. “How did you do that exactly? Like, with a spell?”

Wylder cracks a smile, his lips parting, but Kaiden intervenes.

“Come on; let’s finish the walk to the diner, and we’ll explain when we get there.” He nods for us to follow as he starts forward.

Wylder doesn’t immediately follow, his gaze remaining glued to me. His eyes are no longer flashing, but energy is radiating from him.

“I …” he begins but then bites down on his tongue. “Nothing. Never mind. We should get into the diner, like Kaiden said.”

I nod, feeling weirdly light, as if, for an instant, all of my pain has been erased.

“Do we just seat ourselves?” Wylder wonders as we enter the dimly lit diner lined with outdated leather booths.

The black-and-white checkerboard floor is scuffed up, the countertop is an awful shade of orange—although, I think it used to be red but faded over the years—and the black-and-silver stools look new. Neon signs hang from the windows, and only a few people occupy the tables, so the place is relatively quiet.

I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve never eaten here before.” I spot the sign by the register: Please seat yourself. “Yep, we seat ourselves.” I point at the sign then walk farther in, totally out of my element as some people glance at me.

I know what I look like: long, ratty hair; worn, baggy clothes; freaky rainbow eyes.

It takes a lot of effort, but I resist the urge to bail and run away. I want to—badly—but I also want to hear what these guys have to say.

“Let’s sit in the farthest booth,” Kaiden suggests then signals for us to follow him.

I’m already noticing that he has a leadership attitude. He seems to always take charge and expect everyone to follow.

“It’ll minimize the risk of anyone overhearing what we’re discussing.”

“We can always erase their minds before we leave,” Wylder reminds him as we weave around some empty tables. He’s been quiet since he healed me, tension flowing from his body, but that faded by the time we reached the diner’s parking lot.

I glance at him, waiting for a smile to appear and for him to announce he’s joking. Because he has to be, right?

“I’d rather not,” Kaiden replies as he stops at a booth, raking his fingers through his dark hair and glancing around. “We were supposed to leave as few magical footprints as possible, and we’ve already left more than I’ve wanted.” He flicks an annoyed look at Wylder.

Wylder responds with a grimace. “I know, but again, what was I supposed to do? The dude was about to go all crazy.”

“Knock him out. Choke him out.” Kaiden shrugs as he slides into the booth. “Anything else but use your magic.”

“Whatever. I’m sorry,” Wylder mumbles, his tone not matching his words.

With my lips pressed together, I scoot into the seat opposite of where Kaiden is sitting. His gaze tracks my movement, and I feel oddly squirmy under his attention.

“What’s a magical footprint?” I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me.

I expect Wylder to sit by Kaiden, but he scoots beside me. I blink at him, but Wylder doesn’t notice as he stares at a menu board on the wall.

Kaiden rests his arms on the table. “Every time magic is used in the human world, residue is left behind,” he answers me in a low tone. “We refer to this as a magical footprint. ”

I recall the lavender residue left behind when I accidentally used my magic the other day.

“Have you ever seen anything like that before?” Kaiden asks, but his question carries an underlying meaning. What he’s really asking is if I’ve used my magic before.

I could lie, but I get the inkling he already knows the answer.

“A few times,” I confess, fiddling with a saltshaker to busy my fidgetiness. “The other day, I put this crack in the road, and lavender dust was left on everything. But I didn’t know what it was.”

Kaiden’s gaze skates to Wylder. I look at him, too, and find that he’s smiling at me.

“What?” I ask in an almost defensive tone. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“If lavender dust is left behind, it means you tried to heal something with your magic,” he explains. “Each color represents a different power, and not everyone can use every power, so that means you’ll be able to heal things eventually.”

“Oh … But I wasn’t trying to heal anything. I kind of panicked and tried to regain my power, but I failed. Obviously, since there’s a giant hole in the middle of the road now.” I waver, rotating the saltshaker in my hand. “Did you guys already know I did that? Is that why you’re here?” I stiffen as a thought occurs to me. “Am I in trouble?”

Kaiden promptly shakes his head. “We knew you did it, but that’s not why we’re here. And you’re not in trouble at all, Emberlynn.”

Fear pulsates through me. “How do you know my name? Because I’m pretty sure Liam never said it. And I know I haven’t told you.”

Kaiden and Wylder trade a glance that magnifies my uneasiness.

Kaiden looks at me again. “We knew your name before we ever arrived here because we came here to get you.”

As discreetly as possible, I search for a way out of here that doesn’t involve shoving Wylder out of the booth. I could always launch myself over the back of it.

“You said I wasn’t in trouble.” I glance at the door, trying to calculate how fast I can get there. But what if they stop me with magic? I have no clue what they can do, other than heal and put people to sleep. Maybe they have super speed or something.

“Hey, you’re not.” Wylder leans over and catches my gaze. Something about his eyes sends a calmness through me. “At all. I promise.” He stretches his arm along the seat behind me. “You’re safe with us.”

I’m dubious at best. Safe isn’t a word I understand in its full context.

“Why did you come to get me then?”

Wylder’s eyes sparkle even in the inadequate light—he almost looks excited. “To take you to your home.”

I frown confusedly. “I don’t have a home. I live in foster care, so I have a temporary home. But that changes in a few weeks when I turn eighteen.” I’m unsure why I confess all of this. It’s not like me to be so open.

I blame it on Wylder’s pretty eyes. He’s too pretty, and it gives the illusion that he’s safe.

And saying my fear aloud only makes my anxiety spike. I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about my impending future of homelessness. It’s something that’s haunted me for years—that when I turn eighteen, I’ll have nowhere to go and have no one, not even shitty foster families.

Wylder slants closer, and the smell of his cologne wafts around me like spun sugar. “The human world isn’t your home, Emberlynn. Moonlight Crest is. And we’ve come to take you there.”

My frown deepens. I’m still not sure if I believe him. “What is that …? Moonlight Crest? Is it a town? Because I’ve never heard of it before.”

“That’s because you’ve been living with humans,” Kaiden says, opening and flexing his hands. “And they don’t know of our town’s existence.”

“You keep saying humans …” I trail off, terrified to ask the question but knowing I must. I have to discover what I am, where I come from, who I am, and why I can do the things I can do. I’ve wondered about it for years but believed I’d never get answers. Finally, though, here is my chance. “Which implies that you’re not, so … So, what are you?”

They share another glance, and then Wylder scoots even closer to me while chewing on his bottom lip.

“We’re warlocks,” he tells me, “and you’re a witch.”