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“There is.”
She left without another word, her nerves twisted into knots over the way he made her feel. Eating with him had reminded her of what they’d once had. True, it had been far more fraught with tension this time, but it had taken her back to quiet meals with him at Corrier’s home. They’d fallen for each other during those long nights.
He’d been a different man then. Happier. He’d never been a jokester, but he hadn’t been entirely serious and dark.She’d never failed to get a laugh out of him if she wanted to. As she’d done this morning, in fact. She hadn’t meant the personal assistant bit as a joke. Not really.
But she’d liked it when he’d laughed.
Idiot.He didn’t deserve her soft thoughts. Nor could she afford them.
Pushing thoughts of him from her mind, she raced up the stairs to the green bedroom and found her way to the bathroom.
Whoa. The castle might be old, but the bathroom certainly wasn’t. Marble and wood gleamed. An enormous shower beckoned.
She made quick work of washing up, though in any other circumstance she would have hung out a lot longer. Maybe tried out the huge sunken tub.
A wave of her wand gave her fresh clothes and a warm jacket.
7
“Holy shit, it’s cold here,” Sofia said.
A grin cracked Malcolm’s face as he glanced at her. Surprised, he almost reached up to touch his own cheek. It was the second today. A record.
They stood in an alley near Salem’s main street, having just aetherwalked from his home.
“I suppose you don’t get out of the jungle much,” he said. She wore a puffy brown jacket that somehow still managed to highlight her curves. He still wasn’t used to actually seeing her. After so long apart, it was hard to keep his gaze off her.
Kitty stood at her side, scowling. The familiar didn’t like the cold either.
“Not to cold places,” she said. “How is it colder here than in Scotland?”
“Gulf stream. But it’s not much worse. You’re just used to the jungle.”
“True.” She set off down the alley, her footsteps silent on the cobblestone.
They walked out onto a residential street. Behind them were shops. Being one of America’s older cities, Salem was a mix of long-standing houses and shops pressed up against one another.
“Looks like a Halloween bomb exploded here,” Sofia said, surveying the street avidly.
Malcolm dragged his gaze from her. Red, orange, and yellow leaves rustled in the trees and floated through the air to land on the brick walkway beneath their feet. The homes on the other side of the street were all New England charm. Clapboard fronts with jack-o-lanterns on the stoops and a mishmash of other Halloween decorations. Two women in witch hats giggled as they walked down the other sidewalk.
“Mortals,” Sofia said. “I hear they like it here around Halloween. It’s commercial, but the magic beneath it all is what draws them, I think.”
“Makes sense. Some mortals are sensitive to it.” Though they had no idea that another world existed alongside their own, full of real witches and things that went bump in the night.
“Let’s see if we can find the entrance to the Mythean street. Salem Hollow, I think it’s called.”
They turned and headed up the street. A black wooden building sat on the corner. With a steep roof, an overhanging second floor, and mullioned windows, it looked to be from the seventeenth century.
“Creepy,” Sofia said.
“From the witch hunts, no doubt,” Malcolm said. Evil lurked around the place. The two giggling mortals who stood in the front yard of the ancient building beneath a brilliant red-leafed tree didn’t appear to feel it.
The house was a reminder of Salem’s dark history, though the place was entirely different now. The streets were brightly festooned with Halloween garlands and jack-o-lanterns. An emblem of a flying witch was emblazoned on dozens of surfaces—signs, shop windows, cars. It was cheerful in a way that its history was not.
Sofia shook herself. “Come on, let’s go find Salem Hollow. Maybe things will feel more normal there.”
They made their way down a street lined with stores. Mortals in costumes bustled down the street. Magic shops butted up against t-shirt stores and bars. Wooden folding signs for psychic readings sat on the sidewalk and tour guides hustled for patrons.
