Spellbound (29 page)

“Emma, honey, I don't do hugs.” She winced, and I removed her from my enthusiastic embrace.

I held out my hands. “Can I have the book? Please? I need to see Brendan.”

“I thought you were seeing him later?”

“I was, but this can't wait.”

“Come on, we have a lot of work to do.” Angelique shook her head disapprovingly. “I mean, we've got to get you going on your spells and basic herbs….”

“Angelique, this involves him, I have to tell him that we're safe.”

“Fine!” Angelique threw her hands in the air dramatically, handing over
Hadrian's Medieval Legends.

“I'll just leave this here,” she said, tapping on the red-covered spell book.

“See you Monday,” Angelique said, throwing her bag over her shoulder as I started cramming my feet into my lace-up Converse sneakers, the only shoes that fit over my bulky ankle bandage. Angelique started for the door, then turned around to address me over her shoulder.

“I'll want you to have read the first two chapters of that book by Monday. We'll discuss it at lunch.”

“You're giving me homework?” I asked incredulously.

After nodding and bowing with a flourish, Angelique let herself out of my room. I heard her saying goodbye to Aunt Christine as I dialed Brendan's number, cradling the phone in my shoulder as I tried to find a big enough bag to hold the book.

“Hey, sweetheart,” came the sexy, deep voice on the other end.

“I need to see you right now.” The urgency was clear in my voice. “Everything's okay—it's better than okay—but I need to see you. I can't wait until later.”

“Come over now,” Brendan offered. “I was actually going to call you after I jumped in the shower—my parents left early so I'm here alone now. I'll send the car.”

“No time, I'll grab a cab. I'm on my way,” I said, shutting the phone, deciding to just empty my bookbag completely, dumping all the contents on the floor to make room for
Hadrian's Medieval Legends.

I hobbled to the bathroom to splash some water on my face.
Act natural, Emma.

“Hey, Aunt Christine?” I called, slinging the bag over my shoulder and pulling my winter coat out of the hall closet.

“Yes, dear?” she asked, looking up from the couch where she was watching a rerun of
Cribs
on one of her billion or so
channels. “Look at this, who needs a gold toilet?” she clucked disapprovingly.

“Um, yeah. Wait, what?” I asked, momentarily distracted.

“Nothing, dear.” Aunt Christine laughed. “Are you leaving already?”

“Yeah, Angelique reminded me about some stuff that I had to get done, and Brendan's an ace with Latin. Me, not so much.”

“Okay, Emma. I know you still have a lot to catch up on,” she said, nodding. If only she knew just how much.

I kissed her on the cheek and headed out the door, hailing the first cab I saw. A subway would have been faster—and cheaper—but aside from my still-sore ankle, I was afraid to carry this precious cargo around people. I hugged the bag to my chest, looking down at my sweatpants and sneakers with mismatched laces and realizing that I probably should have thrown on jeans or something a little more presentable.

Brendan was waiting in the street for me, paying the cab driver before I could even protest.

“What's this all about?” Brendan asked with a bemused expression, taking the heavy bag from me and sliding it on his shoulders. His still-damp hair hung in his green eyes, which crinkled at the corners with his smile.

“I'll tell you when we're upstairs,” I promised as he scooped me up into his arms, insisting on carrying me up the four flights of stairs. Even though I could have made it on my ankle, I didn't argue with him—much.

I hadn't been to Brendan's house since that first time—so I was at first surprised at how, well, messy his room was.

“Yeah, I was going to clean up before you got here,” Brendan admitted sheepishly while he still held me in his arms. After a short kiss, he sat me on the end of his bed and surveyed his room, kicking a pair of video game controllers under the
couch. He scratched his hair, sending the damp locks in a million different directions. It looked like his hair was fighting with itself.

“It's not bad.” I smiled, looking at the disorganized mess and realizing the first time I'd come over, he'd cleaned up to impress me.

“So what's the emergency? Not that I mind getting extra time with you,” Brendan asked, sliding his hands around my waist and leaning into me. I started falling back on his bed, losing my senses as usual whenever he kissed me.

“Wait!” I cried, pushing him back. If we started that I'd never get to the great news. I brushed some magazines off his bed and plunked down my backpack from where he'd set it on the floor, pulling down the copy of
Hadrian's Medieval Legends.

“Is that book
the
book?” Brendan asked, staring in awe at the intricate, hand-carved leather cover. I nodded, flipping through the pages.

“I have to read you something,” I said, launching into the text. I felt like my heart was a metronome, beating in time to the poem's rhythm.

When I was done, I looked up at Brendan triumphantly.

“Can we believe that?” he asked tentatively.

“It was right about everything else,” I reasoned.

Brendan took the book from me and reread the poem. When he was finished, he stared at me with a dazed expression on his face.

“Don't you get it?” I asked, placing my hand over his as he held the book in his arms. “You were the key! You saved me—you sacrificed yourself to save me.”

“It can't be that simple.” Brendan shook his head in disbelief.

“Simple?” I snorted. “Yeah, it was
really
simple to escape
a psychopath, battle him nearly to the death, then have you take him out, almost dying yourself, and let's not forgot how I had to conjure a spirit, too. Really simple. And I had to go to a school dance.”

A slight smile began to touch Brendan's lips, and soon spread across his face.

“So we're okay, and you're safe?” he asked, placing the book on his bed so he could pull me into his arms again. This time, I didn't fight the embrace.

“I think this is one battle we can put behind us,” I said, adding, “As long as you always remember to put me first.”

“Little witch,” Brendan said affectionately, planting a quick, noisy kiss on my cheek.

“I don't have a problem with putting you first,” he admitted. “It's a small price to pay, to keep you safe and with me, always.”

“Always. I like the sound of that.” I sighed, staring deeply into those green eyes that I loved so much. My heartbeats—now that they were no longer numbered—accelerated.

Brendan gently stroked my cheek, cradling my face with his hand while his other arm wrapped around my hip, holding me against him. Then my soul mate pressed his lips to mine. His hands searched my face, as mine did his. I savored the slow, sweet caress, the way his soft kiss felt against my lips, the safe, secure feeling of his strong hands as they moved up my back. Brendan clutched me to his chest, and I held on to him happily, hearing his heart beat against my cheek.

“So, Brendan, does this mean we live happily ever after?”

He smiled at me and kissed my forehead.

“Happily ever after,” he agreed. “Or at least, as happily as we can in high school.”

Then he touched his lips back to mine.

Thanks to my ever-supportive husband, Dave Ciancio, for his love and understanding when I disappear into my laptop for hours on end, getting lost in my own little world.

Thanks to my wonderful agent, Lynn Seligman, for her patience and guidance, and to Dr. Elizabeth Stone, for all her invaluable advice through the years.

Thanks to my editor, Tara Gavin, for her enthusiasm and support—and everyone at Harlequin TEEN for helping me realize my dream.

A big thank you to my first readers, Cyndi Lynott, Catharine McNelly, Dawn Yanek, Maggie Mae Mell, Jennifer Urbealis, Angela Nigro and Sandra Tedt for reading the (sometimes horrifyingly awful) early drafts and giving me invaluable feedback.

Thanks to Jonathan Bernstein, Trent Vanegas, Jason Pettigrew, Rachel Hawkins, Lynn Messina and Nancy Holder for the much-appreciated early support!

A gigantic thanks to Mom for all of her encouragement and faith in me through the years. I love you, Mom. And finally, thanks to the rest of my amazing family—Evelyn, George, Auntie, Connie, Ann Marie, Aunt Babe, Jessica, Jodi, Karen and the Ciancios—for everything. The only way my family could be more awesome is if they had jet packs.