My feet faltered. “What?”
“I didn’t stutter. You heard me.” He chuckled. “I said, I don’t want a puppy. I already have one.”
My gaze snapped to our trailer. A cardboard box sat next to the stairs.
“You didn’t.”
“Why don’t you go see what’s in the box,” he said with a nod of his head.
My stomach twisted as I started toward it. Tiny claws scratching at the cardboard floated to my ears along with the cutest whimper. Once I reached the box, I peeked inside. Nestled in a nest of pink blankets was the cutest puppy I’d ever seen. She looked exactly like Winston except for the small white circle on the top of her head.
“Her name is Moonshine,” Eli whispered. I hadn’t realized he was so close. He set the boxes he’d been carrying down and reached in the box to pick her up. “I named her that because of the white dot on her head. It looks like the moon, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” I said as I reached out to pet her soft fur. “Why name her Moonshine, though? Why not Luna?”
“We can change it to Luna if you want, but I named her Moonshine because it makes me think of you. Moonshine has brought good things into my life. Heck, it brought me you.”
I laughed. “No, it didn’t.”
“Oh really? So, you’re telling me you would’ve come to my trailer the first night I moved in even if I hadn’t offered you some moonshine?”
My teeth sank into my bottom lip. “It’s possible.”
“Not really.” Eli chuckled. He knew I was lying.
“Fine. Moonshine it is.” I sighed.
“Here, why don’t you hold her? Let’s head inside and get the two of you settled in.”
I took Moonshine from Eli and tucked her flush against my chest. She didn’t wiggle to get free like I thought she would. She just curled up against me as though she’d been waiting for me to hold her. I headed up the wooden steps of Eli’s trailer and felt a sense of contentment settle over me.
I was home.
“Do we have any actual moonshine?” I asked as I set the box I’d been carrying on the kitchen counter and let the duffel bag slip off my shoulder. Moonshine stayed close to my chest, her warmth seeping into me.
“Of course,” Eli said. He’d placed the boxes he was holding on the couch. “It’s in the same cabinet as always.”
I stepped into the kitchen and reached up to pull a bottle down. It was apple pie. My favorite.
“Pop it open,” Eli insisted as he stepped to where I was. He took the puppy from me. “Let’s celebrate.”
“Yes!” I twisted the lid off and thought of everything I had to celebrate.
Moving in with Eli. Getting Moonshine. My mom coming home. My dad being sober. My pack being safe. Regina being taken out. The Mirror Lake woods being a safe place again.
My list was long, and for that, I was thankful.
“Bottoms up,” Eli teased as he nodded toward the open mason jar in my hand.
I tipped it back and allowed the liquid lava to shoot down the back of my throat.
“That’s my girl.” Eli grinned as he took the bottle from me.
“Always,” I managed to say through a fit of coughs.
Eli winked. “Damn straight.”
“So,” I said as I placed a hand on my hip and glanced around the trailer once the sensation of liquid fire scorching my throat had died down. “You never did answer me when I asked how you felt about the color purple.”
A wide grin sprang onto Eli’s face as he took a swig from the jar of moonshine. “You’re serious?”
“I am. I did win after all.”
“That you did and a bet is a bet.”
“Yeah.” I dragged the word out.
“Then I guess it doesn’t matter what I like, does it?”
“Not really,” I grinned because it was the truth.
“Come here,” Eli said after he sat the puppy down and reached for me. His strong arms circled my waist as he pulled me in. Warmth bloomed through me. There was no place I’d rather be than in his arms. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I whispered before his lips brushed against mine. I intertwined my fingers behind his neck and pulled him closer.
“Purple is good. I’m okay with purple,” Eli said in between kisses as his hands began to roam over my body.
“I’m glad because you’re going to wake up seeing it every day. I’m painting the bedroom purple.”
He made a noise of disapproval, and I nipped his bottom lip.
“Ouch,” he said as he pulled back. “That hurt.”
“But you liked it.”
His green eyes flashed with mischief. “I did.”
Eli’s lips were back on mine and any thought of paint or wall colors disappeared from both our minds. All I could think about was how his lips had never tasted sweeter.
Thank You
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Sneak Peek
Did the mention of Jasper and Piper, the brother sister duo who run Sight Unseen, spark your interest?
Make sure you check out Piper’s series!
You’ll learn more about the family business and their cloaks in Of Witch’s Blood (Ward Witches - Book One).
AVAILABLE NOW!
Seventeen-year-old Piper Ward isn’t new to the world of the supernatural. She comes from a long line of Cloaking Witches and lives in the city of Newvale, a supernatural mecca. However, when her crush reveals his mystical roots, Piper discovers there is one supernatural breed she hasn’t encountered.
Tristan Jarek is part of a tribe long ago forgotten, one whose magical abilities were stolen seven years ago. Having been separated from their magic for so long, the tribe is faced with a crippling reality—it’s dying.
As more to the story of Tristan’s magic is revealed, Piper becomes faced with a decision: let an entire breed of supernaturals die out, or give them the one thing that will save them—her blood.
Of Witch’s Blood is the first installment of an all new Mature Young Adult series from Jennifer Snyder, blending urban fantasy and paranormal romance together to create a tale of magic, first love, and inner strength.
One
“Jasper, enough with the freaking games! This isn’t funny anymore!” I sifted through the crap piled on my dresser, searching for my car keys. It was the second time this week my idiot brother had decided to hide them. I didn’t see the humor in watching me tear through the house in search of them, but apparently he did.
He had no life.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His brown eyes twinkled with amusement from where he stood in my doorway.
I squeezed past his six-foot-two frame blocking my exit and headed toward the kitchen, wondering if I’d left them in the catch-all area on the counter. “I don’t have time for this crap every morning. If I’m late again, Mr. Bell is going to have my ass.”
“First off, it’s not crap. It’s how we make a living, Piper. Second, this is easy. Use your skills.” Irritation laced his words as he followed me through the house.
I paused mid-step. While I thought he’d hidden my keys, I had no proof until now. Anger pulsed through me. I was so sick of this. “You cloaked my damn keys again? What’s wrong with you?”
“Skills, you have them.” Jasper leaned against the kitchen counter and folded his arms across his chest. “Use them.”
He could be intimidating as hell—
to everyone except me. I could see through his solid-as-a-rock build, tattooed arms, and menacing stare. Deep down he was a softie. At least when it came to me. But, that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy pestering the shit out of me every chance he got. Some would call it brotherly love. I called it being a pain in my ass.
“Uncloak my keys. Now!” I smacked my palm against the countertop and narrowed my eyes, flashing him the most pissed off expression I could muster.
A crooked grin sprang onto his face at the sight of my rage, which only flamed new life into what I was feeling. “Use. Your. Skills.” He enunciated each word, his shit-eating grin never wavering.
Sometimes I hated him.
“Damn it, Jasper! I’ve got like—” I glanced at the digital clock on the microwave. “—ten minutes to get my butt in my desk or else I’ll be considered tardy. Do you know what happens if I’m tardy again?”
“Use. Your. Skills,” he repeated, ignoring what I said and causing my anger to boil. “Then you won’t have to find out, will you?”
He was such an ass.
“I’ll get detention, Jasper.” I slouched against the counter. My bottom lip poked out as a new way to go about this situation hit me. “You said I couldn’t go to L.A. with you over spring break if I got detention one more time, and now you’re sabotaging me. That’s twisted, Jasper, even for you.” Remembering the L.A. warning he’d given last week was a goldmine. Surely he’d uncloak my keys so I could get out of here now.
While I wanted to go on the L.A. trip, I wouldn’t be upset if he followed through with his threat and made me stay home. A whole week without my brother hovering would be awesome.
“I did say that, didn’t I?” Indifference darkened his brown eyes. I chewed along my bottom lip, unsure what it meant. Jasper could be tough to read sometimes. “Guess you’d better use your skills fast then.” He winked. I wanted to slap away that shit-eating grin on his face.
Damn it. I slung my head back and growled at the ceiling. “Fine.”
I twisted my long red hair into a ponytail and attempted to collect myself. The sooner I was able to calm myself, the better. It meant I’d be able to tap into my magic faster. Pressing my palms together, I began the process of locating my freaking keys with my cloaking magic. God, this was so typical of Jasper. He was hell bent on me practicing my skills. Practice makes perfect and all that jazz.
While I wanted to be as good as he was with cloaks, Jasper was a tough candle to compete with. My brother was legendary. His talent with cloaks was unheard of, and he had the smarts to turn it into a career. Supernaturals sought his help from miles away. Jasper was powerful. He could cloak entire blocks with a strong enough spell to keep it hidden from everyone’s eyes for years. Okay, maybe not years. That was an exaggeration. But, he was the best at what he did. Everyone knew it.
He was my hero because of it, but I’d never admit it to him. It would only inflate his already economy-sized ego.
While I didn’t think I would ever be as good as him, he thought differently. This was why he pulled crap like cloaking my keys to keep me on my toes. He wanted it instilled in my brain to always reach for my magic whenever an issue came up. Nothing that would alert humans to us, of course, but if it involved my safety or a way for me to make a living, he was all for it.
To him, using magic daily was the best way to build a relationship with it. Jasper didn’t view cloaking magic the way others did. It was part of the reason he stood out. There was a respect between him and his magic others didn’t harbor. He understood it for what it was. He didn’t fear it; instead he respected it.
Before I could learn to respect my magic, he wanted me to become familiar with it. Playing tricks to force me to use it was how he went about teaching me this lesson.
I closed my eyes and continued to rub my palms together, warming them to feel the lingering magic in the air his cloak would have left behind. The entire process for locating a cloak made us look like idiots. Why we couldn’t do something cool when we used our magic like on TV was something I would never understand. I wanted to close my eyes and have a massive gust of wind slam against me so those nearby would know I’d tapped into something powerful. Instead, I had to rub my hands together as though I was warming them from the bitter cold and lick my lips like I was eating air.
Not sexy. Not cool. Just stupid.
Once my hands were primed to help me feel for my brother’s cloak, I extended them in front of me and swept the kitchen as though little sensors were built into my palms. Nothing. I didn’t feel anything. The kitchen was clear. Before I made my way into the living room, I licked my lips, tasting the air for any residue of magic I might have missed. Still nothing.
“There you go,” Jasper said. I could hear his bulky work boots thumping against the tiled kitchen floor as he followed me. “Feel it out. Taste it. Focus on your senses.”
“I’m trying, but you’re distracting me with your loud boots and talking,” I snapped.
“Sorry.” There was amusement in his tone, but I ignored it. I needed to find those keys. If I didn’t in the next ten seconds, I wasn’t going to school. It was that simple. I’d rather miss an entire day than be tardy again and have to face Mr. Bell.
Once I was in the center of our living room, I closed my eyes and repeated what I’d done in the kitchen. This time, however, there was a distinct taste in the air. My brother’s magic. Jasper had cloaked something in here for sure. I knew the keys where here somewhere. I also knew Jasper had started counting the second we stepped into the room.
He was timing me.
Last time it took me nearly a minute and a half before I was able to pinpoint the location of my keys. The need to beat my record surged through me. I pushed my magic outward, striving to do better this go-around.
As my hands swept over our couch, my fingertips began to tingle. I took a step closer, knowing the keys were there somewhere. Brushing my palms against the soft suede, I zeroed in on the location. When my palms started to tingle as well, I knew I was right above them. I tossed the couch cushion up, revealing my shiny set of keys sitting on top of a slew of crumbs. Gross.
“One minute and ten seconds,” Jasper announced. I couldn’t tell if he was happy with my time. His face was still stuck in serious mode. Then again, I didn’t really care. He was an ass for hiding them in the first place. “That’s twenty seconds better than the last time.” Pride rang through his words. Part of me wanted to bask in it, while the other half wanted to spew something bitchy at him.
Instead, I kept my mouth shut and my face neutral. I’d learned long ago, when in doubt, that was the best thing to do. It made people wonder what you were thinking, and gave you the upper hand and a level of surprise.
“Practice does make perfect. You can’t argue with that old adage,” he boasted. “And you didn’t even let the couch cushion act as a buffer.”
I rolled my eyes before heading toward my room to grab my backpack. My eyes drifted to my alarm clock when I entered the room. It was eight fifteen. I was ten minutes late. Damn it. Mr. Bell was going to tear into me.
“Don’t be mad, Big Bird,” Jasper called down the hallway.
My nose crinkled at the mention of my childhood nickname. I fought the smile wanting to twist my lips. Stupid bird always made me want to laugh. He was so goofy looking. Knowing this, when I was upset or pissed, Jasper always pulled the name out of his bag of tricks in an attempt to smooth the situation. I refused to let it work this time.
I slung my backpack over my shoulder and hightailed it to the front door. When I broke into the living room, I noticed him blocking the front door. His arms were extended as though he was waiting to swallow me in a bear hug before I left. The sliding glass door it was then. I made it to the door off the kitchen before he realized what I was doing.
“Seriously? You’re that pissed about it?” he called as I pulled the door open with more force than necessary. “Big Bird, come on.”
I laughed as an image of the goofy
bird popped into my head. My powers against the bird had been swayed. “I’m not, I’m just late,” I called over my shoulder. “See you later.”
I left the door open behind me and crossed the porch to the stairs. Once I made it to the driveway, I climbed behind the wheel of my car and traveled at breakneck speed to school. The desire to skip since I was late was overwhelming, but I knew I couldn’t. There was someone I needed to meet. The thought of seeing him had my stomach somersaulting in the best way possible.
Two
Why did the main office always smell like moldy sugar cookies? There was something nauseating about the mixture. I’d been sitting in one of the hard, red chairs lined against the wall, waiting for Mr. Bell to see me for what felt like forever. My eyes shifted to the clock behind the receptionist. Fifteen minutes had already passed. I puffed out a long breath as irritation pulsed through me. I figured that was what Mr. Bell was going for though. He wanted me to sit here, waiting on him until my frustration was on the verge of shifting into anger.
Damn Jasper for cloaking my keys. All of this could have been avoided if he’d decided to give me another job as more training instead of pulling another prank. I rolled my eyes and resorted to plotting my revenge on him while I waited. I knew Mr. Bell was in his office; I could see him through the Plexiglas windows. He was sipping coffee, staring at his computer screen. His bushy brows were furrowed, giving the impression he was concentrating hard. We both knew he wasn’t. What was there to concentrate on when it came to his job?
Being principal was a cake job.
He didn’t have to do much besides open the school, close the school, and patrol the halls between classes unless some unruly teen was sent his way. Even then, half the time he directed them to the guidance counselor’s office.
What did a principal do that was important? I couldn’t think of one thing.
Moon Burned (Mirror Lake Wolves Book 4) Page 16