Home > Books > Payback's a Witch (The Witches of Thistle Grove #1)(31)

Payback's a Witch (The Witches of Thistle Grove #1)(31)

Author:Lana Harper

She gave me an odd look, as if I was questioning some basic tenet of a universally accepted life philosophy.

“Right, I remember, you’re basically Russian,” I said with a crisp nod. “Speaking of parents—I haven’t gotten a chance to dive into the Gauntlet records at Tomes yet for you and Rowan. But it’s on the agenda.”

“I don’t think we’re going to need an assist for the first challenge, anyway.” Her lips tugged into that sly marauder’s grin I found so enticing. “Gareth won’t be anticipating an alliance. And knowing how spineless he is under all that bluster, I bet he’ll still be rattled by tonight.”

I leaned in closer to brush her cheek with mine. “Then we should probably give him something to really think about, right?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice, Harlow.”

As the music reached a crescendo, Talia grazed her hand down to the small of my back, sweeping me into a more structured dance. My heels were high enough that normally I’d have had to focus on my footwork—but following her felt effortless, a rhythm that didn’t require conscious thought. When she lowered me into a slow dip, smiling into my eyes, it blew my mind a bit to remember high-school Talia. Gorgeous and unattainable as some feral goddess, the kind that might turn into a fox and dash away into the dark if you ever crept too close.

Or fuck your brains out by a sacred lakeside, depending on the night.

Having her so close to me felt like some forbidden pleasure, the kind that kept crossroads demons in the business of buying souls. It was almost as unlikely as the idea that, in this town I so badly wanted to leave behind, I might actually be enjoying myself tonight.

“Penny for your thoughts,” she whispered into my ear as she drew me back up.

I started a little, caught out. “What if I’m not thinking anything?”

“Oh, I doubt that very much.” I couldn’t see her face, but I could hear the smile in her voice. “For starters, your cheeks are the exact color of impure thoughts.”

“Fine,” I relented. “I was thinking about you. And how Baby Emmy would never have believed she’d be dancing with the hottest girl at Thistle Grove High. Especially not under her ancestor’s gimlet eye, in her family’s gorgeous, if somewhat creepy, ballroom.”

“It’s called the Mandrake Salon.”

“Of course it is. How exceedingly Avramov.”

She chuckled at that, tossing her head to clear a stray tendril creeping into her eyes.

“Next time, I’ll have to show you the Wormwood Suite. It is, I assure you, peak Avramov.”

“Who says there’ll be a next time?”

“Your cheeks do, Harlow.” She slid her fingers down the shorter side of my bob before tucking it behind my ear. “And so do I.”

The way she held my gaze made my heart speed up, until I could feel it beating at the base of my throat like a pair of tiny wings. So it was real, then, the magnetic pull I’d been afraid I was imagining. The spark that seemed to shiver in the air between us like something electrified.

“And for the record, back in high school, you were the one who never even looked at me,” she added.

“That’s because I was scared of you. I knew this girl who dated you for maybe three weeks our sophomore year, then built an entire Talia shrine after you broke up with her. We’re talking disturbingly elaborate. I think you probably ruined her for life.”

She burst out laughing, giving me another bitten-lip smile. “Fair enough. Baby Talia might have been a bad decision, once upon a time . . .”

An abrupt sadness blew across her face like a wayward breeze; her eyes went a little distant, as if she was unspooling some painful memory.

When she focused on me again, I caught a hint of vulnerability I would never have expected to see, not in someone like Talia Avramov.

“But maybe . . . maybe I’ve learned a thing or two since then,” she said, eyes shifting between mine. “Maybe I’m not such a bad decision anymore.”

Before I could think of what to say to that, Linden came tripping over to us, lips aquiver, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Gareth, he wanted to talk . . . and I just . . . I . . .” was as far as she got before dissolving into a muffled sob, hiding her face in her hands.

I stepped out of Talia’s arms, giving her a regretful look as I reached for Lin.

“You need doughnuts and coffee from Emilio’s,” I finished, tugging her close, just like I’d done any of the countless times I’d comforted her after a bad breakup. She nodded miserably against my shoulder, letting me take her weight, and for a moment it was like I’d never left, like everything between us had been perfectly preserved.

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