Spellcaster by Cara Lynn Shultz Page A

Burton movie,” Brendan said sarcastically. He looked away, exhaling sharply before biting his lip. I wondered what words he was swallowing. But when he faced me again, his expression was calmer.
    “Since you seem so sure that she holds the answer to everything, me, you and Angelique need to have a little meeting. The sooner, the better.”
    I mentally cringed at the thought. I did not want to deal with Angelique and Brendan in the same room for longer than a few minutes. I doubted I could focus on anything other than trying to keep them from snapping at each other—and clearly, keeping my magical focus was crucial.
    “I was already planning on calling her,” I said. “I texted her from the bus that I had a pretty big tale to tell her. She’s at work until six, though.” Angelique worked at Vince A as part of her scholarship deal, but she worked in the front office, home to cuddle bear Casey and her assistant, Mrs. Gary, a steely woman who always seemed to be wearing gray. I thought I saw her in pink once and almost had a heart attack.
    “I have to know if Angelique sensed anything. I told you about her empath abilities, right?”
    He nodded, looking unimpressed. “And you also told me that she had no idea what the spell she did only yesterday meant—and today you get attacked.”
    “Stop nitpicking.” I sighed, shutting my eyes. “Angelique really does know her stuff—she’ll know what’s going on. Or at least know how to find out what’s behind it,” I insisted, opening one eye. “You don’t have to be there, I’ll tell you what she says. Everything, I swear it.”
    “You’re joking, right? Just try to stop me from going with you to talk to Angelique about this.”
    “So I keep one little thing from you, and now you don’t trust me?” I asked, my voice rising in pitch. I couldn’t help it, I was a little insulted.
    “It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s that we are going to deal with this.” Brendan’s tone was firm, but his touch was tender as he placed his palm gently against my jaw, his thumb stroking my cheekbone. “Someone tried to hurt you. Someone did hurt you. I can’t believe you’re even questioning how this involves me, too.”
    “I’m not questioning you. Brendan, it’s just—it’s hard to focus when you two are together. You and Angelique don’t exactly go together like peas and carrots.”
    “More like peas and poison, I know, but that’s her problem, not mine,” Brendan said with a determined grin. “Whatever, I’d rather you didn’t go alone. As proud as I am of you for punching this psycho and sending him running, I’d rather you didn’t have to. Even though my girl’s a badass,” Brendan murmured, his small, proud smile pulling at the corners of his mouth in spite of himself.
    “Okay, that’s the first step. Witch meeting with Angelique,” Brendan addressed me, sliding his hand down my side until it came to rest on my stomach. “Deal?”
    “Deal.” I sighed. I knew I’d screwed up by not telling him about the spell, but right then, all I wanted was for Brendan to stop taking charge and just comfort me and stop being mad at me. And I told him so.
    Then Brendan’s tone changed to one I was more used to.
    “I’m not mad at you, Em.” I gazed into those deep eyes, and all the anger was gone from his face. “I’m not thrilled with how you handled some of this, but…whatever. I know why you handled it that way. And I’ll get over it now that you’re not going to keep things from me anymore. Right?” he added pointedly.
    “Right,” I mumbled.
    “Good. Because like I said, I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at what happened. Obviously I don’t like someone attacking my girlfriend. Again. And I hate that I wasn’t there to help you.”
    Distress shot across his face. I could tell he was envisioning my battle with the hooded mystery psycho in his head, and his fingers raked so roughly through his black hair I thought he might pull it out by