Pushing at Rhys’s chest slightly, Vivi indicated that he should move back as much as he could, and she was glad he could somehow understand her without seeing her.
Lifting her hand, Vivi pressed her fingertips against the side of the closet, her lips moving with a very simple spell.
She really hoped Amanda had been right about them being far enough from the town for the cursed magic not to fuck everything up.
There was another thump from outside, but this one was louder, and Vivi heard Sara’s voice, sharp. “What was that?”
Still concentrating on the spell, Vivi envisioned that photograph on the wall, fixing her energy on it, and then she heard the crack of the frame hitting the floor, glass breaking, and Sara shrieked.
“I wanna go!” she cried, and Vivi prayed that Hainsley wasn’t the kind of asshole to tell her it was no big deal, or, worse, to want to prove his manhood against a ghost.
Just to be safe, she sent another wave of magic out to the front door and heard it snap back on its hinge, slamming against the outside wall.
This time, Sara wasn’t the only one who shrieked, and Vivi inwardly pumped her fist as she heard two sets of footsteps thundering out of the house and down the path back into the woods.
“Nicely done,” Rhys said, his voice still low, and Vivi smiled in the darkness.
“I have my moments.”
“You certainly do.”
They were alone in the house now. There was no reason for them to still be in this closet, close together in the darkness, but neither of them was moving.
“Vivienne,” Rhys said, and Vivi could feel him say her name, his breath moving over her lips. He was still so close. They were still so close.
Her other hand reached out for the opposite wall to steady herself a little as he lowered his head.
And then she yelped as her fingers tingled, almost like she’d touched a socket.
“What is it?” Rhys asked, immediately stepping back and turning on his flashlight, pointing it at the wall to their right.
“I think,” Vivi said as she looked at the markings painted there, “we’ve found Piper’s altar.”
Chapter 22
Rhys knew he should be thrilled they’d found what they were looking for. He also knew it was probably stupid to feel slightly resentful that, years ago, a witch had made her altar in a small closet where, decades later, Rhys had come very close to kissing a gorgeous woman before being thoroughly cock-blocked by said altar, but it was very late, and he was not kissing Vivienne, so Piper McBride was now on his shit list for more than just throwing him across a library.
“Why would she keep her altar in here?” Rhys asked now, moving the beam of his flashlight over the runes Piper had painted all those years ago. Some of them he recognized, but others were unfamiliar.
“Guessing she had people in her life who didn’t know she was a witch,” Vivienne replied, kneeling down on the floor and pressing her fingers to the floorboard. “Or maybe it was because she was doing dark magic?”
Sitting back on her heels, she frowned. “Anyway, doesn’t matter. Main thing is we light the candle, trap her, then get out of here.”
“Hear, hear,” Rhys muttered, still looking at the runes. There was something sinister about them, especially the ones at the bottom of the wall, all dark, slashing marks that hadn’t faded after all this time.
Vivienne had pulled the candle out of her bag, and Rhys watched as she affixed it to a small silver holder before fishing out a pack of matches.
Rhys wasn’t sure if she was holding her breath as she lit the candle, but he sure as fuck was. Why hadn’t he tried to talk her out of this? He knew she felt guilty for the ghost in the first place, but it wasn’t her job to do this. If the college witches wanted this ghost caught, they could bloody well do it themselves.