Page 97 of No Charm Done

Delilah excused herself and went to answer. Luna watched her sister pick up the receiver, say “Stargazer Inn,” and then go very still.

The conversation was brief. Luna couldn’t hear what was being said, but she saw Delilah’s expression shift from warm to arctic. Then Delilah hung up without saying goodbye.

The phone immediately rang again.

This time, Delilah picked up the receiver and hung it up without a word. She briskly unplugged the phone and returned to the table.

“Who called?” Luna asked. She wasn’t sure why, but something about Delilah’s body language was setting off alarm bells.

Delilah’s voice was perfectly neutral. “Nobody who matters. Now, where were we? Contingency plans?”

* * *

A few hours later, Luna was in bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think about Elias and the way her heart still ached.

Tomorrow was another day to prepare. And then the demo. And then . . . well, then they’d see what happened.

Outside her window, the summer night was warm and full of stars. Oak Haven was peaceful, for now. But Luna couldn’t shake the feeling that the peace was temporary. That somewhere out there, pieces were moving on a board she couldn’t quite see.

She fell asleep thinking about portals and glamours and transformation spells . . . but if she dreamed about a cedar-scented man with eyes full of secrets, well.

Nobody needed to know about that.

Chapter 27

Hot and Cold

As the sun dipped over the horizon, an aggressively wholesome minivan pulled into a data center parking lot. The sensible family vehicle had a beige interior, stick-figure family decals on the window, and a bumper sticker reading “My Kid is an Honor Student at Meadowbrook Elementary.”

Elias climbed out of the back seat, feeling like he’d just spent three hours inside a Norman Rockwell painting.

“You sure this is the right place?” The father—Brad, cargo shorts, sensible haircut—leaned forward, peering at the anonymous monstrosity through the windshield. “Doesn’t look like much.”

“I’m sure,” Elias said. “Thank you again for the ride.”

“No problem at all!” The mother—Dianne, flowery blouse, bangs in desperate need of a trim—twisted around to beam at him. “Happy to help. You take care now!”

From the back seat, the child—Tyler, Minecraft T-shirt, gap-toothed grin—gave him a thumbs-up. “Hope you find your friend, Mr. Shaw!”

As soon as Elias understood the danger Luna was in, all he wanted was to warn her. The question was how? The answer arrived in the back seat of the anodyne minivan: when in doubt, ask a ten-year-old. The kid was so proud to teach him how to search for the Stargazer Inn’s phone number, walking Elias through the whole process with the patience of a seasoned professor. “See, you just type it in here, and then you press the little phone icon, and then . . .”

The call had barely connected when a woman’s voice—sounding suspiciously like Delilah—cut him off. She listened briefly, then hung up. Trying again, Elias heard the telltale click before he could even speak.

Message received, Delilah.

But frustration coiled in Elias’s gut. The sisters had no idea what they were walking into. The witches of Oak Haven were planning to throw everything at CastR, and the wards would snap back like mousetraps. Burke was a mean old man disinclined to defenses; he preferred punishments. Alas, since Elias had recently proved himself untrustworthy, no one at the Stargazer would take his call.

Which meant this was it. His only shot. If he couldn’t disable the wards himself, Luna would find out the hard way just how vicious Burke could be.

“You’re a good kid, Tyler,” Elias said, and meant it. “Thanks for the help.”

Tyler’s grin widened. “No problem! And remember—don’t trust Endermen. They seem chill, but they’re sneaky.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Elias said, having no idea what an Enderman was.

The minivan pulled away with a cheerful honk, leaving Elias alone in the parking lot, staring at the building that supposedly contained CastR’s brain, to the extent Elias understood it.

No windows. No sign. Just a long, low slab of concrete humming like a mechanical beehive. Vents along the roofline blasted cold air into the July heat. A single door showed only a number: 2847. Elias had robbed banks that looked more inviting.