Page 70 of Break Out the Girl

“Open it,” he barks at Basil, who instantly scrambles out, running to the wooden gate. It’s not locked, just secured with a long metal arm that hinges upward. Basil swings the gate wide then runs back to us. “Shut it again,” Tally tells him.

Right, the livestock.

“Which way, Princess?”

“Take a left, then first right, and another left by a small group of houses.”

“Got it.”

Even though it’s early and the fog is thick once more, he’s kept the headlights off. I’m amazed he can see where he’s going. Maybe it’s a wolf thing.

Lil’ Hare tugs on my sleeve. “What’s up, sweetie?”

She doesn’t reply, but her big eyes fill with tears. Fuck.

“I know this is scary, but it will all be over soon. Just close your eyes.” I don’t really know what else to tell her.

“Pass her to me,” London suggests. I do so with relief—he’s a natural around kids. A beat later, Incy Wincy spider is crawling up the spout, which is apparently her arm.

We take the right-hand turn.

“Down came the rain, and washed the spider out!”

Lil’ Hare gives a tiny giggle.

Up ahead is maybe a dozen houses. “This must be where you go left again,” I yell over the engine. “Why the fuck are there no road signs?”

Nobody answers me, but I answer the question for myself. These roads are potholed and have weeds growing through the cracks. The public amenities budget in North Havengard leaves something to be desired.

Such a fucking contrast to the south—all sleek, pristine highways, award-winning architectural bridges, and computerized billboards that dazzle you with a million bright lights. Glancing up, I notice Lil’ Hare has gone quiet again and her bottom lip is trembling.

Hmm.

Even though my magic still feels stale and dull from disuse, I know it will only get better with practice. Concentrating, I manage to form three glowing little light globes, which I push over towards the girl.

She’s instantly distracted. Crisis averted.

“Kitten, that’s so sexy,” London whispers in my ear. “Seeing you do magic makes my horns go funny.”

Fuck. I realize something for the first time. He and Taliesin must have sparks now, and magic—after all, they can shift.

I can teach them spells!

Not that I know a ton. I’m pretty sure my father kept me untrained on purpose. But what little I know, I should teach the guys. I’ve a feeling London could be amazing.

“Watch this.” As we barrel along, I carefully walk through the components to make the globes. London studies me intently, an uncharacteristic concentration settling over my dear faun’s brow.

Over my shoulder, I’m aware of Basil tracking my every command as well. The boy is too young for a spark, but it can only be good for him to learn the mechanics early.

“So I just say the words, then whish-whosh my hands? Piece of cake.” London attempts to cast, his expression immediately collapsing into a crestfallen pout when nothing happens.

“Try it slower, and you have to hum too. Casting has to be precise.”

“Ugh, precise-ing is my least favorite thing,” he grumbles.

An elbow nudges me in the back. “Like this?” Basil asks, perfectly executing the maneuver.

“Exactly. Good work.”