Page 115 of Kick the Candle (Knight Games 2)
I looked at the silver specimen he dangled in front of me. For some reason, the thought of having a key to his place made me uncomfortable. "I don't think I'll need my own key," I said. "This is only temporary."
"Are you kidding me? I'm gone most nights at the restaurant. If you need to get to the book, this is your only way in."
Reluctantly, I accepted the key, noticing the Valentine's emblem on the stainless steel keychain. The engraving was of an artistically designed heart pierced by cupid's arrow, only the point was actually a spoon and the feathers, a fork pointing in the opposite direction. Valentine's was scrawled across the artwork.
I turned the key over in my palm. "I know this might be awkward for you."
"You mean because I basically threw myself at you and you turned me down." He rubbed the back of his neck.
I locked my eyes on the toes of my boots. "Uh, yeah. Listen, I'm sorry about that Logan. I never meant to lead you on or to hurt you."
He took a deep breath. "You didn't. Not really. What happened between us, when I was corporeally challenged, caught us both off guard. I guess, it just meant more to me."
"What happened between us, when you were a ghost, was an accident. I didn't understand the source of our attraction, and I let things get out of hand."
The dejected look on his face had me walking for the door.
"This won't be for long." I held up the key. "I'll be out of your hair in no time."
"I like you in my hair."
I stopped at his front door and turned to face him, squirming under the pressure of the moment. "It's not that the night we shared didn't mean anything to me, Logan. It did and you do. We shared a connection when you lived in my house, and I'll always cherish those days. But while I like and respect you, even love you in some ways-"
"In some ways?"
"It's as a friend. You are a dear, dear friend. And it would kill me to lose you from my life. But I'm...I..." God I wasn't sure I could say it.
"You love him," he offered.
I cleared my throat. Logan was the wrong person for me to say this to, especially the first time. "My affections are spoken for ...and happily so."
He nodded. Met my eyes. I said my goodbyes and headed for home.
Danger
"Grave danger?" I raised eyebrows at Logan and broke into the type of laugh that starts out loud and then peters out when you run out of breath. I had to hug my knees to my chest. Tears formed in the corners of my eyes.
"What's so funny?"
I inhaled loudly. "Oh come on! We are standing on top of the Book of Flesh and Bone. Satan's own wicked grimoire." I grabbed my shaking stomach. "And we're in a house next to a graveyard. Grave danger. Of course we're in grave danger. When am I ever not in grave danger!" The fit of laughter overcame me again. Could. Not. Breathe.
Logan's hands wrapped around my shoulders and shook. "Snap out of it. I don't think my mother meant it as a joke. What should we do?"
I got control of myself and pushed up from the floor, eyeing the symbols on the vault and trying to call on my emerging witchy instincts for direction. "Poe! Get down here," I yelled toward the stairs.
Flapping. The muffled thump of wings against wood. I was sure we'd left the door partially open but it sounded like he was struggling to fit through. A black streak passed by my face and landed on the leather pocket of the pool table. "Eww. The vibe down here is making me molt." He ruffled himself and a few stray black feathers cascaded to the floor. "What's under the stone, Witcherella?"
"Rumor has it, the Book of Flesh and Bone."
"Rumor has it from whom?" Poe fixed Logan with a beady black stare.
Logan stepped back. "The bird talks?"
"This is my familiar. His name is Poe."
"Yes. I am Poe, keeper of this witch, and I say, sir, that it seems a bit coincidental that you should know exactly where the book is."
"I-"
