17
I wasn’t sure what flattery Stella had worked on these customers, but their pure excitement had me briefly wondering if maybe the “enhancements” they’d made to my spells may have been slightly addicting.
It took more than half the day to deliver all the outstanding orders, and when I finally got back to the house, I found Ivy standing over the workbench in the basement, continuing to package products and orders.
I gently pried the bottle away from her hands. “Both you and Stella are working the closing shift at the grocery store tonight, right? Go relax for a while. I’ll finish up.”
“Aren’t you going out with Ren later?” She looked up at the clock. That wasn’t until later in the evening, but she knew I’d want to take my time getting ready.
“I have an hour or two to spare. Just go.”
Her exhaustion winning out over work, Ivy went to take a nap, and I was left there staring at my notebook and the comments she had scribbled over mine. None of the words actually filtered through my brain. I clenched my fist, wondering if this slowly corrupting magic of mine would affect my spells.
Holding the vial in my hand, I reached for my magic. The sandy-colored glow inside immediately brightened, then continued to intensify far beyond what it should have.
My breath caught. The light became blinding.
Panic shot through me, and I dropped the vial. It slipped from my fingers as I caught a glimpse of silver racing beneath my skin, tracing jagged paths up my arm before disappearing under my sleeve.
The veil, the phantoms, and my magic were a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, my focus was on Ren.
After about an hour, I gave up on the spells and retreated to my room, rifling through my clothes in search of something that said “effortless and put-together without looking like an overconfident jock trying too hard to impress his crush.” I settled on a silky red button down, complimented by a nice pair of dark-washed jeans and lace-up leather boots.
I spent way too much time combing my hair, fretting over every strand that wouldn’t stay in place.
Before I knew it, Ren was leaning against the doorframe behind me, staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
“Are you planning to enter a beauty pageant or eat dinner with me?”
I whirled around, my heart pounding so hard it thundered in my ears. “Ren! You’re here!”
He frowned, crossing his arms defensively. “Of course I am. Did you think I’d stand you up?”
Ren stood there in a dark, worn-in henley and a black leather jacket.
His jeans sat easy on his hips, boots scuffed just enough to prove he actually lived in them.
My chest seized at the sight of him before me, realizing how perfectly he filled the space.
He shouldn’t have looked as good as he did, but damn did the sight of him still make my breath catch.
He was flattering in that quiet, dangerous way that reminded me exactly why I was nervous in the first place.
“No, of course not,” I managed to reply in a somewhat steady voice. “You just … look really nice. I’m used to seeing you in pretty casual clothes.”
“Same.” His hungry gaze tracked my body up and down, eliciting a heat that crawled up my neck.
“Well, I’m ready if you are,” I said as I put down the comb and gave myself one final look over. “You’re driving unless you want to ride on the back of Scootie Pie.”
“Never happening.” He removed a set of keys from his back pocket. “Let’s go.”
The restaurant I’d settled on was in the center of town, only about a ten-minute drive away.
Inside, the lights were dimmed, casting a warm amber glow over exposed brick walls and dark wood beams. A long bar stretched along one side of the room, its surface worn smooth by years of elbows and spilled drinks, bottles glowing softly behind the shelves.
The low hum of conversation mixed with the clink of glasses and the sizzle of something on a grill somewhere out of sight.
It wasn’t fancy, but it was nice enough to feel intentional and casual enough that we didn’t feel out of place.
The hostess sat us down at a leather booth against the back wall.
“I hope this is okay,” I said as I slid across the shiny leather. “I know it’s nothing fancy, but I heard the food here was good. Well, Sam Adams told me that he overheard from some college kids that the food was good, but I guess that doesn’t mean much coming from a ghost, does it?”
I cut myself off before I stammered any longer. I was sold off at an auction and strangled by a phantom, but somehow sitting across from Ren on a date was the most terrifying thing I’d ever experienced.
I fiddled with the corner of the paper menu until the server came over to take our order.
In the end, despite my friends making fun of me for always wanting pizza, we decided to split one between us.
I had encouraged Ren to order whatever he wanted, but since I had insisted on paying, he seemed hesitant knowing I didn’t have a century’s worth of savings from moonlighting as a dead reporter like he had.
The silence between us pressed in, heavy and unyielding.
On any other day, Ren and I would have been teasing each other, words flying back and forth without a thought.
But tonight felt different. Every glance carried a weight we couldn’t shake.
My stomach twisted, my fingers tapping against my drink glass, and I caught the same tension mirrored in his jaw, the way his eyes lingered just a second too long before darting away.
Neither of us knew where to start, yet neither of us wanted to end the silence by speaking first. Maybe this had been a bad idea, doing this in the middle of a phantom attack on Salem.
“So, um, you said you learned a lot of stuff in the underworld. Anything cool?” I finally asked.
Ren rubbed his arm. Having shrugged off his jacket, the black tentacles of his octopus tattoo peeked out from beneath the sleeve of his long-sleeved shirt.
“Nothing all that interesting, now that I’m thinking about it.” He avoided my gaze, brushing it off with a small shrug like he was ashamed of it all.
“Okay. Well, what about that mysterious person you befriended? I hope he wasn’t as attractive as me.” I rested my chin on my fist.
Ren choked on his beer, his face turning beet red.
“The man I met in the underworld, his name was Murphy. I showed him what you taught me, and he helped me further refine it so that I could trade and borrow magic, even without the other person’s consent.
For example, if you were in danger, your will to survive would be strong enough to allow me to borrow your magic to protect you. ”
“Oh, that’s brilliant!” I took a long sip of my martini.
Now on the second one, I was starting to feel hot and fuzzy inside, not to mention a lot more chatty.
“But what about people you’re fighting against?
How do you gain the upper hand on them if you’re fighting someone who wants to take you down? ”
Ren smirked. “By borrowing their magic when they attack. I did that back in the underveil with that guy’s fire magic.
The magic has already been released from their body, so there’s no harm in me borrowing it that way.
There are limitations, of course. I can only borrow as much magic as the person releases.
It’s a one time use deal, and it’s not like I’ll instantly know how to use their magic either. ”
Ren avoided making eye contact with me again, rubbing his fingers up and down the condensation on his beer glass.
“What aren’t you telling me, Ren? What else happened while you were there?”
“Nothing.”
“Ren, don’t lie to me.” I reached out for his hand but he pulled it away.
“Theo …”
“Please tell me, Ren.”
Silence stretched awkwardly between us until he finally answered. “There’s something you need to know and you’re not going to want to hear it.” His voice lowered to something almost remorseful.
“Okay, I’m listening.”
“The man I met … he knew Caspian. They worked together in a past life.” Ren finally looked up to hold my gaze. The maroon depths of his eyes flashed with something that made my stomach sink.
“And?” I urged.
“And, well, there was a side of Caspian you never got to know. Did you know that at one point in his life, he did join the Syndicate? That grimoire? Those were all spells he created for them. He did some bad things, Theo.”
The words hit harder than I expected. I had sensed Caspian was never a saint, but that even though he only thought of himself, he didn’t do anything without a distinct purpose.
“People change,” I said, perhaps a little too quickly. “You did.”
Ren's expression tightened. “Maybe.” Ren rubbed a hand across his face. “But that's not what worries me.”
A frown crossed my face.
“The man I spoke to said Caspian was brilliant. Kind, even. But he was also arrogant enough to believe he could control what he created.” Ren looked away.
“Murphy talked about someone who was always convinced he was the smartest person in the room. Someone who believed the rules didn't apply to him because he understood magic better than everyone else.”
My stomach churned, my throat tightening.
“Caspian wasn't dangerous because he was cruel. He was dangerous because he genuinely believed he knew what was best for everyone, including you, Theo. Even the Syndicate had trouble controlling him. Eventually, he got fed up and fled into hiding for over a century, continuing his research in secret.”
“So, what are you trying to say? That’s it’s a good thing he died?”
“Of course not.” Ren sighed. “According to Murphy, every line Caspian crossed was for a reason. The Syndicate didn’t want him back because they missed him,” Ren continued quietly.
“They wanted him back because there are things only Caspian knew how to do. Things he never finished. And now, they know you have those memories of him. What do you think they’ll do to you? ”