Chapter 10
Hannah
“It’s called a driver’s license,” I explain as we huddle around the corner from The Crimson Moon. “It’ll have her address on it. We just need to get her bag.”
It’s a quicker solution than waiting for hours until the club closes and following her home, and a safer one. I’m not sure how I feel about tying her up and ransacking her house.
Guilt twists my stomach as I lay out my plan. What I’m suggesting isn’t exactly legal, but then again, anything Julia comes up with will be much worse. Anyway, we won’t be stealing Maya’s wallet, just borrowing it. Once we’ve searched her place, we’ll leave it on her kitchen table.
Julia looks at me in a way that could either be disgust or admiration. “So how do we get her bag?”
“One of us needs to occupy her and the bartender while the other searches.” The cold air bites my cheeks, and my breath mists in the streetlights. I shuffle my feet to stay warm, jealous of Julia’s long cloak. “It’ll be in a staff room. Or maybe behind the bar.”
Julia’s eyes narrow with determination, and she flexes her fingers. “I’ll distract them while you locate it.”
I hesitate. Of course she wants that role.
She probably thrives on the attention, the chaos, the chance to use her charm like a weapon.
But a magical distraction is not the best way to be subtle about what we’re doing.
Besides, I can think of better uses for her magic.
“No, if her bag is in a locker, we’ll need you to break the lock.
And if it’s behind the bar, it’ll be easier if you summon it instead of me trying to slip back there. Can you do that? Summon someone’s bag?”
She snorts. “Don’t insult me. Fine, if you think you can create a sufficient distraction…”
Nerves flutter inside me, but I nod. “I can handle it.” I pull out my wallet and show it to her. “This is the sort of thing you’re looking for, okay? It’s full of little rectangular cards.”
She studies it from all angles, pulling out a card to examine it. “Fascinating. What do they do?”
“That one…gives me points at the frozen yogurt shop…” I snatch it back. “Just give me a minute to start the distraction before following.”
I pull my hood over my head, scanning her old-fashioned clothes. Yeah, it’s better to send me in first. She stands out like…um, an ancient witch in a bar.
Julia reaches out to stop me, her fingers brushing my wrist. Her touch sends a pleasant ripple up my arm and a distracting rush of heat through my middle. “How will I know when you’re ready?”
I flash a nervous smile. “You’ll know.”
I walk inside, and the stuffy air hits my face, thick with the scent of beer and sugary cocktails.
People are still grinding on the dance floor, and clusters of people chat over their drinks, some already loud and tipsy.
I duck behind the nearest group of people before Maya and the burly bartender can look up and notice me.
My ribs constrict painfully as I get further from Julia, and I do my best to breathe through it.
The separation will only be for a minute.
Heart pounding, I scan the room for options—drinks to spill, tables to flip, people to pick a fight with, dance floor…
There. A karaoke machine sits behind the dance floor, its screen cycling through advertisements for drink specials.
A nervous jitter rolls through me, but now is not the time for stage fright. Now is the time to make an absolute spectacle of myself in order to save my own life.
The karaoke machine’s interface is blissfully simple. I scroll down the top hits of the year: “Single Ladies” by Beyoncé (too painful given my circumstances), “I Gotta Feeling” by the Black Eyed Peas (tonight is absolutely not gonna be a good night), “Poker Face,” “Womanizer”…
I stop at “Gives You Hell” by the All-American Rejects. Perfect. Angry, loud, and it was only two months ago that Dean and I scream-sang this at his twentieth birthday while Riley laughed and filmed us. Back when I still believed we’d all be together forever.
I grab the mic before the memory can paralyze me.
You can do this. Pretend Dean is on backup vocals.
“Low” by Flo Rida stops abruptly, and my song’s opening notes fill the bar. Dancing screeches to a halt and conversations die as people turn toward me.
No backing out now.
The lyrics appear on the screen, and I crank up the volume, throwing myself into the song with everything I have.
People stare at me in equal parts horror and fascination. The bartender and Maya gawk at me, and recognition dawns on their faces.
I smile and wave as I sing, climbing up on a chair to get higher.
Come on. Take the bait.
Their expressions cloud over. They lean in, exchanging words.
The man nods, and they both start toward me, going wide to come at me from two angles.
Yes.
My heart beats faster as I sing louder, belting out the lyrics like a drunk girl at a bachelorette party. My voice cracks on the high notes, but whatever. The worse this is, the better the distraction.
The uncomfortable tightness in my chest suddenly eases, which tells me Julia must be inside. Past Maya and the bartender, she darts toward the door behind the bar like a shadow.
I raise my fist and lean into the chorus, my voice growing hoarse.
“All right, sweetheart,” the bartender says, barely audible beneath the music. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”
Shit, he and Maya are close enough to grab me.
I step onto the table, bumping the cluttered dishes. People scoot back as empty glasses crash to the floor.
“Hey! Get down!” the bartender shouts.
I dance out of his grasp, my voice bouncing as I keep singing.
The patrons are too busy laughing to help catch me, and I dodge him as I hop to the next table. My singing deteriorates as I concentrate on not falling.
Maya tries to grab my arm, and I leap away, landing in a booth between two college-aged girls. They giggle and lean away from me.
I’m running out of time. I pass the mic to the brunette on my left. “Take it away!”
She accepts it with a nervous glance at her friend, and I slide down under the table and onto the ground. I crawl between everyone’s legs and out the other side, adrenaline making me speedy. I scramble to my feet—and come nose-to-chest with the bartender, whose face is the color of the bar’s logo.
Run.
I bolt in the other direction.
His fingers graze my arm, but I pull away, sprinting toward the exit. Julia had better be done, because time’s up.
I’m nearly at the door when Maya appears in my periphery. She sticks her leg out, and I’m too slow to dodge it. My foot slams into hers, and the rest of me is still on a forward trajectory.
I scrunch my face as the floor rushes up to meet me.
I land hard, the impact shooting up my arms as I catch myself with the heels of my hands. I skid across the sticky floor, pain exploding in my hands and knees, my sweater getting wet from spilled drinks. Gross.
A grunt of pain escapes, and I scramble forward, trying to get to the exit.
A rough hand grabs the back of my sweater and hauls me to my feet, practically lifting me through the doorway. “I’ll escort her out, Maya.”
“I’m going!” I cry. “You don’t have to escort me. I’m leaving.”
The bartender ignores me, continuing to drag me outside with one hand.
My heart pounds hard. Is he going to beat me up? Does that actually happen in real life?
Outside, he holds me by the scruff with two hands. “Who the hell are you, and what do you want with Maya?”
“N-no one. Nothing,” I stammer, my breaths coming fast and panicky. “It was—a joke—”
He shakes me. “She told me you and that other woman threatened her.”
Pain shoots through my neck. “This has nothing to do with you.”
His face is even redder, and the veins in his arms bulge as he lifts me onto my toes. My legs shake as I try to keep my feet on the ground.
Abruptly, he flies backward like he’s been hit by a cannon ball, letting out a deep grunt. As the grip on my collar vanishes, I lose my balance and fall to my knees. My ears ring with the sound of him slamming into the brick wall and crumpling to the ground.
I brace my hands against the rough pavement and look up, catching my breath.
Julia stands in the doorway, silhouetted against the warm light from inside.
The door swings shut behind her with a bang.
Her face is absolutely feral, her eyes blazing with fury and her lips curling into a snarl.
Black magic crackles between her fingers and writhes up her arms, making the air around her hands shimmer with heat.
For a second, I can only stare, frozen in fear.
But then she growls, her voice so low and deadly it makes my skin prickle. “Don’t—touch—her.”
Warm, sweet relief crashes through me.
The bartender scrambles backward, unsteady as he tries to get to his feet. “I’ll have both of you arrested.”
Julia cocks an eyebrow, stalking toward him. The icy wind lifts her hair and pushes her cloak back from her waist, revealing her taut, strong body poised for a fight. “Is that all?”
He finally manages to stand, and whatever retort he planned to say dies on his tongue as she raises her hands, letting him see the magic crackling there. His eyes widen, and he steps back, his mouth open in horror.
“No one touches what’s mine without paying for it,” she growls. “Understand?”
“Julia,” I whisper, though I’m not sure if I’m asking her to stop or keep going.
Her attention is fixed on the bartender as she keeps stalking closer. “Go back inside before I make you beg for death.”
He stares her down, apparently refusing to be intimidated. “I want you both out of here. Never show your faces here again.”
Julia raises a finger to her chest. “Cross my heart.”
He hesitates, then shakes his head and backs toward the door, keeping his eyes on Julia.
Only once he’s gone does she turn to me, and the fury in her expression dissolves. She’s breathing hard and her face is pale, like whatever magic she did came at a cost.
Her eyes rake over me and pause at my collar, where he grabbed me. Her jaw clenches. “Did he hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” I manage, though my voice comes out breathy.
My insides are swooping out of control. Nobody’s ever defended me the way she has tonight.
A sick part of me actually wanted the guy to resist so I could see what Julia would do. It’s a little intoxicating, watching her use magic. Watching her fingers darken and her expression intensify.
I draw a shaky breath and tug my sweater straight, tamping down that reckless and shameful thought.
The way Julia is, she would’ve had no problem hurting or even killing him.
In fact, she probably restrained herself for my sake.
“Thanks for…” My sweater is sticky and smells like beer, and I cringe as it gets on my palms. This had better be worth it. “Did you get it?”
She takes me by the elbow and speed-walks away from the bar. “Yes. Quickly.”
My heart jumps in victory, and maybe a little from her firm touch.
I lead us to the nearest bus stop, praying one comes within the next half a second. There, we duck behind the small crowd of waiting people, and Julia passes me the leather wallet. I pull out the driver’s license and punch the address into my phone.
“That was fast,” I say. “Sorry I couldn’t distract them for any longer.”
“It was long enough. And you did well.”
I look up at her, checking that the compliment really did come out of her mouth.
She’s eyeing the passing traffic and the other people waiting for the bus as if it’s all plotting against us, her fists clenched.
I smile to myself. “Looks like it’ll take twenty minutes to get to her place.”
She nods firmly.
The bus rolls up, and everyone shuffles closer to the curb as the doors hiss open.
I pull out my wallet, grimacing as I shake back my damp sleeves. “My poor hoodie. And kneecaps.”
Julia’s gaze rakes up and down my body.
I wish I knew what she was thinking when she looks at me that way. Is she judging me or…something else? Is it bad that I want her to keep looking?
“Are all modern women so unrestrained?” she finally asks.
I can’t help the little smile tugging my cheeks. “What do you mean?”
The warm, stale air from the bus wafts out as the people ahead of us file on.
“That song and dance was…” Julia waves a hand. “And your trousers. They’re scandalously tight.”
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 my performance bought 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.