“What’s so funny?” Paige glared at me, curling up her lip as if she’d smelled something bad.

  “Ava is. She always cracks me up.” Sam nudged me with her shoulder.

  “Oh, yes.” Paige’s grimace twisted into a fake smile. “Our little Ava is such a comedic genius.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Paige.”

  “What?” Paige tried to look innocent, but she wasn’t fooling me. “Fine. I have to go anyway. I need to talk to my philosophy professor.”

  “Trying to get out of the food bank thing now that you know he’s off limits?” I batted my eyelashes at Paige, and she snarled at me. She turned on her overpriced heels to walk away. “Bitch,” I muttered under my breath.

  The growl of a motorcycle engine snapped me back to my senses, and I whipped around as Maddox rolled to a stop beside Sam’s car. The urge to go to him was like a living, breathing creature, and I had to steel myself to keep it from bolting across the parking lot.

  “Keep cool, and let him come to you,” Sam whispered as if she could read my thoughts.

  I watched him secure his helmet to the bike and sweep his eyes around the perimeter. As if he was as tuned in to me as I was to him, his gaze landed on me, and his face split in a wide grin. He didn’t run, but he moved swiftly as he closed the distance between us, never taking his eyes from mine.

  Every drop of anxiety I’d felt since the moment I walked away from him in the wee hours of the morning melted away like a snowman in a greenhouse. By the time he reached me, I couldn’t contain my smile anymore. The expected “next day” awkwardness was nowhere to be found as he cupped my face between his hands and pressed his mouth to mine.

  Ignoring everyone around us, he finally pulled his lips away but didn’t release me. “Good morning.”

  “Morning.” I closed my eyes and leaned my face into his touch, drawing in his scent until I felt whole again. How’d he have so much power over me after so short a time? It was as if I’d been possessed or something.

  And by the way he nuzzled my neck, I could tell he felt it too. “Did you sleep well?”

  His question caught me off guard, and I opened my eyes, feeling my body tense as the heavy scent of bluebells and sunshine flooded back to me.

  “What is it?” he asked, and I knew from the set of his jaw that my uneasiness had leached into him. The last thing I wanted to do was spoil the moment with my stupid insecurities.

  I shook my head, forcing my nerves to quiet. “It’s nothing. Not enough sleep, I guess. Someone kept me up very late.”

  He nodded, but something in his eyes told me he didn’t quite believe me. “You’d tell me if something was bothering you, right?”

  I swallowed back my confession and smiled. “Of course. But there’s nothing to tell. I didn’t get enough sleep, then my mom woke me up early.”

  He brushed his lips against mine again. “Remember, you can tell me anything.”

  For an instant, I debated telling him about the stupid nightmare but shook off the urge. It was a dream, nothing more. I’d had bad dreams a lot lately. A therapist would probably tell me my subconscious was still dealing with the loss of my dad. And the move. And the mysterious stranger who was or wasn’t my boyfriend.

  Not to mention a raging case of hormones. When I thought about it, I realized I’d gotten off easy. I flashed him a genuine smile. “I promise to tell you if something bothers me.”

  “Good. Now we’d better get to class, or we’ll be late.” He took my hand and pulled me across the deserted quad.

  “Where is everyone?”

  His body shook with laughter, and he squeezed my hand. “They took off while we were…” He stopped walking and turned to me, a serious look in his eyes. “I guess they got uncomfortable watching the unbridled passion sparking between us.”

  Something about the way he said the words made my stomach flip, and I felt it all the way to my toes. The sparks between us were no joke. We could probably set fire to the entire building if we kept the skin-to-skin contact going.

  As if he’d read my mind, his face lit up in a brilliant smile. “Now come on before I say to hell with the History of European Civilization.”

  Our first official lunch as a couple—or whatever we were—was shaping up to be a disaster. I had no idea where to sit. We’d kissed, but we’d never defined our relationship, and I felt like a complete idiot for letting it get to me. My hands gripped the sides of my tray as I contemplated my options. Since Maddox hadn’t said anything and I was too afraid to ask, I found myself torn between sitting with my group at the big table in the center of the room and sitting at the quiet table in the back where Maddox had chosen to sit the only time I’d seen him in the dining hall.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, fine.”

  “Because, if something’s bothering you, you know you can tell me.” He chuckled as he sidled up beside me and whispered, his lips over my ear. “You always worry too much.”

  I whipped my head around to face him. “What did you say?”

  He took a step back and scrunched up his face. “I said, ‘you worry too much.’”

  “No, you said always. I always worry too much.” My knees threatened to give out on me. I’d heard those words before. In my dream.

  “You must have misheard me.” A tight smile stretched his face. “You were standing here as if you were lost in thought, and I—”

  “I, uh…” I blinked away the image of Maddox in a field of wildflowers. “I wasn’t sure where I should sit.”

  He let out a breath and nodded to the table where Sam was waving at us like a lunatic. “Don’t you usually sit over there with your friends?”

  “Uh, yeah. I do.” We were blocking the aisle, and several people had lined up behind us, grumbling to make their annoyance known.

  “Well there you go. Problem solved.” He let the conversation drop and stepped around me on a straight path to my usual table. He sat his tray down, leaving room between him and Sam, then turned around as if to ask what I was still doing across the dining hall.

  “Yeah, what am I still doing over here?” I mumbled to myself, and the girl behind me snorted out a laugh.

  Maddox met me halfway and took the tray from my shaky hands. He acted as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t just quoted a line straight from my subconscious. “You’re acting really strange today. Are you sure nothing’s bothering you?”

  “I’m fine.” But as I followed him back to the table, I couldn’t manage to push his words out of my head. No matter what he’d said, I knew what I’d heard. Even the air around me seemed to shift with tension only the two of us could feel—and only one of us would acknowledge.

  Maddox turned toward me and dialed up his smile to full volume. “Good. I’m starving.”

  I nodded and waited for him to start walking again. The urge to ask him the significance of the name “Laith” ate at me. My emotions seemed to be very much on his radar. And at the risk of sounding like every bit the teenage girl I was, I had a desperate need to know where I stood with him. But these things required finesse. Surely, as an adult, I could bring up the topics with some level of tact, couldn’t I?

  Maddox stopped again in front of our table and let out a sigh. “Ava, you really need to say what’s on your mind. I promise it’ll be okay. Whatever it is.”

  I drew in a deep breath. Then before I could stop myself, I blurted out the words, “Are we… I mean, are you… God, why is this so hard?”

  “Just spit it out,” Sam whispered from my left.

  “Are you my boyfriend?” As soon as I got the question out, I slapped my hand over my mouth, wishing the floor would swallow me whole.

  He set my tray on the table then turned to take both of my hands in his. “I sort of hoped after… well, after last night, you were. But if you’d rather not be my, uh, girlfriend—” He hid it well, but I still saw the flash of hurt in his eyes.

  Before he could stop me, I wrapped my arms around his neck and silenced him with a kiss. Once the shock wore off, he responded by snaking his hands around me, lifting me off the floor and against his chest.

  “Get a room!” a deep voice bellowed from a nearby table.

  He set me back on my feet, and I hid my face in his chest until the catcalls died down. “I guess we shouldn’t do that in public,” he whispered, tugging me to sit beside him.

  “Yeah…” I took a sip of my drink to cool off. “Probably not.”

  Sam leaned over from the other side of me. “Nice. I think I might need a cigarette after that kiss.”

  I coughed over a laugh. “You don’t smoke.”

  “Well, honey, you do.” She bumped my shoulder. “I could see the fireworks sparking from a mile away like a four-alarm fire in a tire factory. Totally unnatural.”

  I didn’t bother telling her she was less than a foot away, because that was hardly the point. She’d hit the nail on the head. My skin prickled around him. I dreamed of him, I ached for him. I burned for him. And we barely knew each other.

  But she’d gotten one part wrong. My feelings for him were as natural as breathing, as if we were destined to be together.

  The prickling at the base of my neck flared, and Maddox captured my hand in his under the table and squeezed. I had no doubt he felt it too—the strange, electric connection between us.

  It didn’t matter how it had happened, I knew I didn’t want it to end.

  Chapter Eleven

  1654

  “Come in, come in. I expected you some time ago.” The old woman waved a gnarled hand toward Lady Catherine, and Catherine flinched away from her touch. The woman shook with laughter, exposing a scattered row of dingy teeth. “Afraid of an old woman?”

  “No, of course not. I’m sorry. The weather is bad, and the ride has made me jumpy.” Catherine stepped inside, shoving away the feet of several dead black birds hanging from the low ceiling as she wandered into the small cottage. A heavy curtain divided the room, and she wondered what the woman hid on the other side.

  She forced a smile and tried to avoid pinching her nose to block the sharp scent of herbs, rot, and something else that she suspected emanated from the steam of a large pot simmering on the hearth. The sour odor didn’t smell like any soup she’d ever been served, and the pitiful flames were barely large enough to give off heat.

  The woman nodded. “A fine lady such as yourself shouldn’t be out in this.” She gave a quick peek out at the deluge before slamming the door shut. “So what brings you to see me? Not a social visit, I suspect.”

  Dragging the sodden hood from her head, Catherine shook out her curls in an attempt to avoid eye contact. “No. Not exactly.” She smoothed the wrinkles in her skirt. “My handmaiden, Mary Black, bid me come see you. With my husband gone and the future uncertain…” Catherine stared at a wall of shelves as she struggled to come up with the words.

  The flimsy boards sagged from the weight of all the jars lined across each one. So many jars of all different sizes. Several contained what appeared to be dried herbs and plants, but others brimmed with what looked like small animal parts floating in cloudy liquid. A throat clearing drew her eyes from her surroundings and back to the woman.

  The old woman chuckled and locked her foggy gray eyes with Catherine’s bright-blue ones. “I know why you’re here. The same reason anyone of your rank comes to see me. You’re looking for a blessing.”

  “I am.” She rested her hand on her stomach. “But not for me.”

  “Ah, you’re looking for guarantees for the baby’s well-being?”

  “Is it possible?” Catherine’s eyes implored the woman.

  She let out a loud laugh. “It is if you’ve brought your purse with you.”

  Catherine smiled, fishing into her cloak for the silk bag at her waist. “Yes. Of course. Here.” She thrust the coin-filled pouch into the woman’s hands. “Ten crowns.”

  “Just ten?”

  Catherine’s delicate face fell. “Is it more? Mary said—”

  “No, no. Ten will do nicely.” The woman tore into the bag, pulling out a coin. She put it between her rotten teeth and bit down, grinning from ear to ear before dropping it back into the bag with a clink. “Though I’d gladly relieve you of more if you have it.”

  Catherine said nothing and waited.

  “Very well.” The woman gave a terse nod. “Have a seat, and tell me exactly what it is you want from me.”

  She perched herself delicately on the utilitarian chair across from the old woman and folded her hands across her lap. “I want my child to be brought safely into the world. I want him healthy.”

  The woman leaned forward until her stale breath washed over Catherine’s face. “You’re certain it’s a boy?”

  “Well, no. Not certain. But I do hope. And if my instincts are correct, I want to be certain no one attempts to punish him for his father’s choices.”

  “And what of your choices?” The woman narrowed her eyes.

  Lady Catherine blanched. “What of my choices? I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “If you say so.” The woman nodded. “Continue.”

  “And I want to be certain he’s comfortable. Financially. My husband is a very wealthy man, but if the tide should turn away from his favor, I want to be sure my child is still protected.”

  “Is that all?”

  Catherine felt the woman’s eyes boring into her soul and shifted her attention to her lap. “There is one more thing I would like.”

  “There always is. Go on.”

  With a determination that surprised even her, Catherine raised her eyes to the woman. “I want my son to know great love. But not just know it. Possess it. I want a guarantee that he’ll be reunited with the other half of his soul. I believe the Greeks called it the split apart. I want to know that no matter what happens, my child will find his soul mate. I want them bound together for all time.”

  The woman shook her head, an uneasy look on her face. “The first part I can do. A simple blessing for good fortune is easy enough. The rest… I’m sorry. You’ve come to the wrong place.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the Greeks were wrong!” the woman snapped. “And the consequences of such things are simply too great. Anything I do comes back in threefold. I won’t take responsibility for that. No.”

  Catherine jumped to her feet. “I’ll take full responsibility. I know for a fact soul mates exist. I found mine once, but my father forced me to let him go in deference to an arranged marriage. I don’t want that future for my child—one of loneliness and longing.”

  The woman backed away, shaking her head. “You don’t know what you’re asking. What we do is about intent, and beneath all your love, the true intent of your heart is fear. No good magic comes of fear.”

  “I-I have more gold. I can give you two sovereigns for your trouble.”

  The old woman’s face lit up before she tamped down her reaction. “Despite what my circumstances may imply, I can’t be bought.”

  “But that’s so much money. More than most people see in a year.”

  The woman scoffed. “Money means little to me if I’m not around to spend it.”

  “I’ll do it.” Another voice sounded from behind the torn drape. The curtain pulled back, and a woman no older than Catherine stepped out. Her dress was simple gray linen, and her dark hair hung in loose tangles about her shoulders, but she carried herself like someone born to privilege. And she was lovely.

  “No! Jane, you mustn’t.” The old woman rushed to the younger girl, her eyes wild.

  “Yes, Aunt Bess, I must. And if you won’t take her money, I will. It may come to be that those two sovereigns are the only thing between you and a burning stake!”

  “Lest you forget, there are far worse things than that,” the woman barked at her niece then turned to Catherine. “You should leave. There’s nothing for you here.”

  “Wait. Please!” Catherine begged.

  “What you ask for is impossible. Now go.”

  “Dear aunt, be reasonable. We need the money. And the woman is desperate.”

  The old woman shook her head. “She’ll be worse than that if we agree.”

  “I’ll assume all responsibility.” Jane clasped her aunt’s mangled hands in her own.

  The old woman gasped. “You’ll do no such thing! Jane, take it back. Promise me you won’t agree to something so foolish.”

  “If you won’t have me do it here, I’ll meet her elsewhere and make the deal. You can’t stop me.” Jane stood tall and jutted out her chin defiantly.

  “Fine.” The woman glared at her niece for a long moment then directed her icy stare to Catherine. “You have the gold on your person?”

  Catherine nodded.

  “And you’ll accept the threefold consequences that the spell will bring forth?” Her clouded eyes flashed.

  “I said I would, and I will.”

  The older witch gave a nod. “Very well, then. I’ll do it.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I yanked on a Pink Floyd concert tee and ran a hand through my tangled waves before flying down the stairs. I was late. “Mom, I’m leaving! Be home before sunrise.” I’d almost made it to the front door before she caught me.

  “Not so fast.” Mom stood in the doorway between the living and dining rooms with her arms crossed and her famous bitch brow in place. I hadn’t seen it make an appearance since the “paint it black” incident. She made Paige look like an amateur. “I’d like to set down a few ground rules before you go.”