Devils & Thieves (Devils & Thieves #1)(5)



“Stop that,” she snapped. “You always put yourself down.”

I sighed. “Just being realistic.”

“You know you have more magic than you’re willing to use. I wish you’d tell me why.”

I wished I could. “It’s just… I’m not good at it. Practicing doesn’t help.”

“I’d buy that if you ever actually practiced!”

“It doesn’t matter, okay? Crowe doesn’t need me. He doesn’t want me, either. He barely even notices when I’m in the same room with him.”

“That might be the biggest lie you’ve told all day.”

I squinted against the light as the wind shifted, pushing the branches of the magnolia tree out of line with the sun. My rebellious heart pounded eagerly in my chest. “Did he say something?”

Alex sat up and folded her arms around her legs. “No. Nothing out loud.”

“Isn’t that the way one says things?” I pushed myself up on my elbows. Part of me wanted to coax more from her. Part of me wanted her to say that what Crowe and I had had before was not completely broken.

One moment had changed everything between us, the thread that connected us burned away—and he’d been the one to set it on fire. He’d chosen that moment just to hurt me, too. Or maybe he’d never cared at all. Which made me lucky, I supposed. I’d surely dodged a bullet.

At least that’s what I told myself whenever I crossed paths with him, because admitting the truth would be worse.

I missed Crowe Medici. But telling myself I hated him was much, much easier.

Alex pulled a tube of lip gloss from her bag and drew the wand across her lips. “Forget Crowe. I’m the one who needs you.”

I hung my head back. “Now you’re being ridiculous.”

“It’s true. I would wither and die without you.” She smiled, her lips bright red and glittering. “Or, more accurately, I’d be in jail with no one to bail me out.”

I laughed. The wind subsided and the sunlight faded as the tree branches settled again.

A single magnolia petal fell from above, drifting back and forth like a feather.

Alex had it all wrong. She didn’t need anyone. It was me who couldn’t survive without her.

“You’ll figure it out, Jemmie,” Alex said softly. “But if you want my opinion, you belong right here in Hawthorne.”

Glints of her golden magic sparked in my vision, forming an aura around her face—she had so much that sometimes it just wafted from her unbidden. I closed my eyes to shut it out. If Alex knew what I felt every time I was around kindled power, she’d probably tell me I should leave town and live somewhere else, far away from the magic that made my vision blur and my head ache. Though I knew she’d say it out of concern for me, it would still kill me to hear. And no matter what I decided, it couldn’t erase the truth that ruled my life:

It was freaking painful to love something that didn’t want you in return.





TWO


ALEX AND I SPENT THE BETTER PART OF THE AFTERNOON at the Medici Cottage. It wasn’t until the sun started to set that we left the house and followed the river three miles south to the Schoolhouse.

It, too, sat on the edge of Sable River, and although it hadn’t been an actual school for a century, going there was always an education.

One I both looked forward to and dreaded.

The two-story structure, which served as the Devils’ League clubhouse and party headquarters, had been constructed of red brick, with white trim around the doors and windows. The old leaded glass windows were still intact, as was the bell tower and the giant bell inside. Just the thought of it made me cringe a little. Last summer after so many things had fallen apart, I’d managed to get drunk enough to climb up there and try to ring it. Crowe had had to rescue me after I got stuck, and I wished I could forget the sad, disgusted look on his face as he did. I’d stayed away from the Schoolhouse for nearly six months after that out of pure shame. Since then I’d been back a few times, but never for more than a drop-in.

Alex pulled into the lot and drove past a row of parked Harley-Davidsons. They were lined up equidistant from one another, the front tires all cocked to the right. Parked Harleys always reminded me of stacked dominos—kick one and they all go down. Not that I’d ever try something like that in a place like this.

Alex parked in front, in the spots reserved for her and her family. An old oak tree loomed over us, and in the murky evening light, it looked like a giant with a thousand gnarly hands. The old gas lamps were lit up, too, casting golden halos on the cobblestone path up to the front door. Music spilled out open windows—and so did magic. I blinked as my vision hazed with it, as my stomach rolled with its heavy, multifaceted scent. Alex skipped along next to me, oblivious and happy. Why was I the only one who seemed to be allergic to the stuff? It was so unfair.

I breathed through my mouth and focused on the song that was playing. Something old, something rock-and-roll. Familiar and grounding, even if it wasn’t my favorite.

“‘Lord knows I can’t change!’” Alex sang along with the music, her arms raised above her head. “I love this song,” she added when the lyrics gave way to a guitar solo.

“Me too,” I lied, and stepped aside as Boone, a giant of a man, ambled past, his body clad almost entirely in black leather.

Jennifer Rush's Books