Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“You know,” Dennis says with a laugh, slapping his knee, “you’re surprisingly normal.”
I almost choke on my drink laughing. “I think that’s very much up for debate. And depending on who you talk to, they would definitely disagree.”
“Well.” He finishes his drink and sets the empty glass on the wooden countertop. “I hope to see you back. And maybe someday, I hope to see you sitting in the back of my class taking notes.”
“What do you teach?”
“Potions.”
I blink several times, feeling like I’ve been dropped back into a Harry Potter movie yet again.
“Simply put,” he says, apparently noticing the shock on my face. “My family’s history runs deep here in New Orleans. My great-grandmother passed down her knowledge of potions and tinctures to my mother, who passed it down to me. Now I take great pride in continuing to share what our family has learned and known for generations.” He smiles. “I also teach a lot of precautionary magic. Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”
“Yeah…” I say. “I’ve learned that one the hard way a time or two.”
“My summer course is wrapping up in about a month,” he tells me, “but if you ever want to come and sit in, I can pretend you’re my TA. That way my high school students don’t question why you’re there. And also to keep the boys away from you. They’re too young for you, but you’re definitely not too old for them.”
I let out a snort of laughter and raise my glass to take another drink.
“That giant rock on your hand might help,” Marie says, looking at my engagement ring.
Dennis shakes his head. “Teenage boys wouldn’t even notice. They’d just see a pretty girl who could kick their ass ten ways to Friday. They’d be taking bets on who had enough guts to go talk to her.”
“You said you try to avoid Order members,” I say, backtracking a little. “Does that mean everyone in this coven knows about the Order?”
“More or less,” Marie answers. “The Order is very much our boogeyman.” She looks at me. “As I told you, most of us don’t have active powers, which means we don’t have some magical way of defending ourselves at the moment. Plus, even someone with an active power can be shot, poisoned, or stabbed on the street.” Her expression grows serious. “It doesn’t matter how strong your powers are or how grand everything here seems. We’re all vulnerable.”
I take another big drink, forcing down the lump rising in my throat. Because I know exactly what she’s talking about. I know how the Order operates. They’re good at what they do, which is why I’m good at what I do.
They get close. They pretend to be friends. Hell, one time Antonio worked a job as an electrician for six whole months because the Order suspected the company was owned by werewolves. He went to birthday parties, weddings, and even his coworkers’ family Thanksgiving dinner.
The company was run by wolves, but thankfully we left for another job, and I never knew exactly what happened.
Though a year or so later, I searched for the company on social media. Their Instagram hadn’t been updated. I know what the Order did, but I don’t know how they did it.
And I don’t want to know.
“It’s getting late,” Marie says, somewhat surprising me. “The last place technically doesn’t close, but I did promise to get you back home within a reasonable amount of time.”
“Right,” I say, both thankful and a little disappointed. I still feel so conflicted about whether or not I should trust her. I have absolutely no reason not to trust her, which is exactly what makes me feel like I shouldn’t. It’s almost as if she’s doing everything too perfectly. Is it really that hard to believe people can just be decent without an ulterior motive?
She puts her hands on the bar and leans back slightly as she looks around. “There’s no one else here I’d want to introduce you to right away,” she says. “It is a bit slow, though I suppose, being a Wednesday night.”
“Right. It is.” Exactly what day of the week it is has completely slipped past me. A lot has been going on, of course, and I don’t have much reason to keep track of the days anymore. My life has become so strange.
“I do hope to see you back,” Dennis says. “If what Marie says is right, it won’t take long to get you caught up.”
“As long as I don’t have to take a test,” I joke, laughing awkwardly.
“I can give you one,” Dennis replies with a chuckle. “And I won’t even grade it.”
“Give me an A at least,” I joke before finishing my drink. I go to use the bathroom before we leave and make the hour drive back to the house. I’m feeling a little buzzed as I walk through the bar, and now I’m regretting having any alcohol at all. Part of me wants another drink so I can drown everything out, and another part of me wants to curl up in a ball and fall asleep, giving myself several hours in dreamland where I don’t have to remember reality.