She shrugs, gazing down at the counter as though fascinated by the jewelry inside. “No, um, don’t say anything. I’ll just come back some other time.” She takes a deep breath and pulls her shoulders back, trying to summon some of the usual revulsion reserved just for me, but failing miserably.

And even though part of me wants to soothe her, calm her, convince her there’s really no reason to act like this—I don’t. I just watch as she leaves, making sure the door closes behind her before heading back to the book.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“So how was your first day at work?”

I drop onto the couch, kick off my shoes, and prop my feet up on the carved wood coff ee table, closing my eyes, and sighing dramatically as I say, “Actually, it was a lot easier than you’d think.”

Damen laughs and sinks down beside me. Smoothing my hair off my face when he says, “Then what’s with all the fatigue and theatrics?”

I shrug, scrunching down even lower, sinking as deep as I can into the plush, overstuffed cushions, eyes still closed as I say, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s got something to do with the book I found. It left me feeling a little—fragmented. But then, it might have something to do with my surprise visit with—”

“You read a book?” His lips trail down the length of my neck, filling my body with tingle and heat. “As in, the traditional way?”

I move closer, throwing my leg over his and snuggling in, eager for the almost feel of his skin. “Believe me, I tried to take the easy way out and just sense it instead, but it was like—I don’t know—it was the weirdest experience.” I look at him, willing his eyes to meet mine, but they remain closed as he buries his face in my hair. “It was like—like the knowledge inside was too powerful to be read in that way, you know? And it gave me this terrible jolt of electricity—like a shock that rattled my bones. Which only made me even more curious, which is why I tried to read it the normal way. Only I didn’t get very far.”

“Out of practice?” He smiles, lips now at my ear

“More like I couldn’t understand it.” I shrug. “It’s mostly in code. And the parts that are English, well, it was like—olde English. You know, like the kind you used to speak.” I pull away and peer at him, smiling when I see the look of mock outrage displayed on his face. “Not to mention the print was really small and it was filled with all these weird sketches and symbols making up spells and invocations, that sort of thing. What—why are you looking at me like that?” I pause, sensing a major energy shift as his body grows tense

“What’s the name of this book?” he asks, gaze focused on mine.

I squint, screwing my lips to the side, trying to remember what the fancy gold lettering said. “The Book of—Something—” I shake my head, feeling more tired and fragmented than I prefer to let on, especially after seeing the concern on his face.

“Shadows.” He nods, wearing a frown. “The Book of Shadows. Is that it?”

“So you know it?” I shift, arranging my body until I’m fully facing him, his gaze serious, fixed, as though weighing something he may or may not tell me.

“I’m familiar.” He studies my face. “But only with its reputation. I’ve never had a chance to read it myself. But, Ever, if it’s the same tome I’m thinking of—” He shakes his head, disquiet clouding his face. “Well, it contains some extremely powerful magick—magick that needs to be approached with the utmost caution and care. Magick that definitely should not be toyed with, understand?”

“So I guess you’re saying it works.” I smile, hoping to lighten the mood, but knowing I’ve failed when he doesn’t return it.

“It’s nothing like the magick we use. It may seem like it at first, and I suppose that when stripped down to its very essence, it does amount to the same sort of thing. But when we evoke the energy of the universe to manifest form, we call upon only the purest and brightest of light with no darkness at all. And even though most magick practitioners or witches are good, sometimes when people get involved in witchcraft they get in over their heads, and wind up taking a much darker path, calling on a more malevolent force to get the job done.”

I gape, never having heard him even acknowledge a dark force before.

“Everything we do is always based either for the greater good, or our own good. We never do anything to cause any harm.”

“I wouldn’t say never,” I mumble, remembering all the times I’ve beaten Stacia at her own game, or at least tried to.

“Petty schoolyard squabble is hardly what I’m getting at.” He dismisses my thoughts. “What I meant was, we manipulate matter not people. But resorting to spell casting to get what you want—” He shakes his head. “Well, that’s a whole other game. Ask Romy and Rayne.”

I look at him.

“They are witches, you know. Good witches, of course, ones who were taught very well—though unfortunately for them, their schooling was cut a bit short. But take Roman, for instance, he’s the perfect example of what can go wrong when one’s ego, greed, and insatiable need for power and revenge steer them toward the dark side. His recent use of hypnosis is a prime example of that.” He looks at me, shaking his head. “Please tell me you didn’t find this book on the shelf—out where just anyone can get it.”

I cross my legs and shake my head, fingers tracing the seam on his sleeve. “It was nothing like that,” I say. “This copy was—old. And I mean, really, really old. You know, all fragile and ancient—like it should be in a museum or something. Trust me, whoever it belongs to didn’t want anyone to know about it; they went to great lengths to hide it. But you know that can’t really stop me.” I smile, hoping he’ll smile too, but his gaze remains unchanged, worried eyes staring right into mine.