Page 73 of Haunt Me, Maybe

Well, fuck. Even I knew that was going to be a problem. Aven tightened her hold on the book, knuckles paling. She didn’t argue immediately—it would have worried me more if she had. She believed in magic as if it were a moral language.

There were right ways to use it, wrong ways—as she had clearly learned from Gideon. Getting her to twist her power into something deceptive?

That would cut deeper than she’d admit.

“I don’t know how to do that,” she said finally, voice quiet. “Not without feeling like I’m ripping something out of myself.”

You won’t rip, Fenn argued, and his tone told me this wasn’t the first time they’d had this debate. You will layer.

Turning slightly, so he could address us both, he laid out a plan for training.

First: decoys. Not illusions of sight, those are crude. Gideon does not hunt with his eyes. He hunts with resonance.

I was on board with whatever would save her. I folded my arms loosely and leaned one shoulder against a beam. I needed this lesson too. If I couldn’t be physical backup, I had to at least understand the battlefield.

“Meaning?” I asked, wondering how the decoy would work against his magic.

Meaning, Fenn said with an alarming amount of patience. She must learn to construct a magical signature that resembles her own but is instead hollow.

Aven’s brows pulled together. “Like an echo?”

Yes. But deliberate. And anchored somewhere else.

I thought immediately of the mill. The orchard. The maze. Even the café, though it probably wasn’t a good idea to draw attention to Briony. There were plenty of magically saturated places in Amber Grove that could hold an empty signature. I liked this plan.

“You want her to plant false versions of herself across town.”

I want her to send three stable decoys to the ley intersections Gideon has already brushed, he corrected. Let him refine in the wrong direction.

Aven went still. Did she have any plans to open the book? Or was she holding it as more of a comfort?

“It’s too risky,” she warned, sharp enough that it sounded like she was scolding her familiar. “If I mess up, he’ll know.”

Which is why you will learn control.

I stepped closer to the desk, deftly de-escalating the growing tension.

“Shielding,” I added. “She needs to work on that, too.”

Fenn nodded, actually agreeing with me. Her current suppression is reactive and predictable. Easily tracked.

Aven stared at the both of us, and her eyes narrowed. The lamp on the desk gave a faint, nervous pulse.

“I’m so glad,” she said, her voice sugar-sweet and razor-edged, “that you two have planned out my entire magical reformation without consulting me.”

I crossed my arms, my famous smirk back and on display. “You’ve been busy making coffee. It’s the least we can do.”

Her mouth dropped, and I swore wisps of steam curled from her ears.

“Oh, good. Sarcasm. I feel safer already.”

“You should,” I said. “I’m excellent under pressure.”

“You’re insufferable under pressure.”

“I prefer decisive.”

The corner of my mouth curved slowly. She was adorable when riled up. And even the fire she aimed at me was better than that small shape she tried to contort into before.