I drop my bags in the entryway, cross the small space, and flop onto my bed.

And then I just lie there, my body unwilling to move.

A moment later the bed dips as Nero hops on next to me. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for him. Panthers aren’t meant to be taken out of jungles and forced to travel on planes (which is a whole other story, one that involved heavy magic usage) and live in homes. He’s been shoved into the world of humans, and I feel rotten for my role in that.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper softly, reaching out to pet the top of his snout.

Nero closes his eyes and lets out a contented low sound. It’s not a purr—I learned yesterday that panthers can’t purr—but it’s a happy enough noise.

It doesn’t make me feel any better.

I continue absently petting him. “Think I can just lie here forever?” I ask.

He gives me a blank look.

“I want to assume that’s a yes, but you seem less the nice-friend type and more the honest-friend type, so I’m going to guess that’s a no.” I sigh.

Nero responds by stretching on my bed, his body pushing mine to the edge of the mattress.

“Oh, come on. You’re going to have to share,” I say.

He just stares back at me.

I give the beast’s body a big push. In response, Nero growls.

“Get over it. Until you can pay the rent, I’ll be calling the shots. Now scoot.”

He doesn’t.

“Do you want me to turn you into a parakeet?”

Now, begrudgingly, my familiar moves over.

I resettle on my bed. “Just so you know, this arrangement isn’t going to work when I have boys over.”

Nero makes a noise, and I can’t be sure, but it sounded like a scoff. Like a fucking scoff. As though this random jungle cat—who has probably never been around humans—cannot imagine a situation where a guy would wind up in my bed.

“I can get boys,” I say. I sound defensive even to my own ears.

A quieter noise comes from my panther. It still sounds disbelieving.

I think my familiar may be an asshole.

“I’m going to ignore your lack of faith in me,” I say.

Then I drag myself off the bed. “All right, I can sleep when I’m dead.” I pad toward the kitchen. “What we need is some food, some coffee, and some music.” I crack my knuckles. “We have a coven to get into.”

Armed with a mug of coffee, a snack bag of cookies for me, and some thawed chicken breasts for Nero, I sit in front of my laptop and type out my experience in South America.

I mention my original plans for the magic quest, then how my plane crashed. I describe the disembodied voice that called to me and how, while following it, I discovered my familiar. The paper pours out of me. The only thing I don’t mention is the mainevent: I discovered and freed some ancient supernatural. Not only do I doubt they’d believe me, but then I’d also have to explain why I unleashed a menace and where he is now. And I cannot truthfully answer either of those questions.

I’m just making my final edits to my paper when my phone rings. I glance at the caller ID. Sybil.

I bring the phone to my ear. “We’re calling each other now?” I answer. “Haven’t I told you that my introverted ass only does texts?”

“Ah, my kindhearted best friend,” Sybil says. “I knew you missed my voice.”

“I always miss you,” I tell her honestly.

“Aww, Selene, I love you, babe. I was actually calling to convince you to come to Henbane’s harvest party,” she says.

Of course, this is why she’s calling. It’s so much harder to tell her no over the phone than via text.

“That’s for coven members only,” I say, just in case she forgot.

“You and I both know you’ll get in after all you went through,” she says.

Wait, Sybil and I already talked?

I spend a frantic moment shuffling through my memories before I vaguely remember the conversation I had with her back at the airport in Quito, back when I was contacting friends and family to let them know I was all right. The plane crash was big news, even internationally.

“So,” Sybil says, interrupting my thoughts, “you’ll come to the party?”

Of course I want to go to the party. I just…I don’t want to feel like an outsider. This is my third attempt at getting into the coven, and considering Henbane’s fall semester starts at the end of next week, it’s not looking so good for me. I feel like I’m starting to garner people’s pity.

I chew on my lower lip, opening the calendar on my laptop. “When is it?”

“This Friday.”

That’s two days from now; it’s doubtful that I’ll know if I’ve gotten in by then.

“I’m tired. I just got back,” I say.

“Pleeeeaaase,” she begs. “The Marin Pack will be there. So will the mages from Bladderwrack Grove.”

Now she’s throwing the promise of hot shifters and magical dudes at me.

“I don’t know,” I say, still wavering.

“Come on. We hardly ever get the chance to see each other these days.”

Sneaky friend, she knows just how to pile on the friend guilt.

“There’ll be witch’s brew to drown your regrets in,” she continues, “and I heard that Kane Halloway might be there.”

I place a hand over my face. “Goddess above, girl, when are you going to let me live that crush down?”

I was in love with the lycanthrope since the moment I laid eyes on him at Peel Academy three years ago. After he graduated, he returned to the Marin Pack, where he’d been born and raised. I don’t know whether I have supremely good luck or bad luck that his pack’s territory lies right next to Henbane Coven. If I were in the coven, I’d probably see him a lot; the witches tend to freely mix with the werewolves since they’re neighbors.

“Live him down? Oh, I’m not going to stop bringing him up until you have your wicked way with him.”

“Sybil.”

She cackles like the witch she is. “Come on, you know you want to go to the party.”

Do I? Because right now, all I want to do for the next month is curl up in my bed with a book and a cup of tea.

I glance at the calendar again.

There will always be time to read.

I sigh. “All right. All right.”

My best friend squeals. “Yes! And remember to wear a skanky dress.”

“Sybil—”

“And bring a broom, you freak. It’s going to be fun!”

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER 10

The wind moans through the trees, rustling the evergreens that loom all around us. The air has a chill to it, and I can smell woodsmoke somewhere nearby. South America feels like a world away.

I don’t have a broom, though my dress is probably short enough to make Sybil proud. I’m one misstep away from everyone getting an eyeful of my coochie.

Nero walks at my side, and I’m so proud to have him there. I feel like he’s always belonged next to me, and getting to show him off in all his hulking, ferocious glory puts my magical insecurities to bed.

People won’t pity a witch who’s snagged a panther as a familiar. That’s the sort of bond that inspires respect—and maybe even a little fear. I wouldn’t entirely mind that, if I’m being completely honest.

The two of us cut past the lecture halls and the enormous three-story greenhouse, then head into the Everwoods, the forest surrounding the coven. I follow the distant sound of laughter and music, and for a moment, I pretend I belong here, that I know this campus the way I so desperately want to.

My phone vibrates against my cleavage, which is being used in lieu of a purse.

I pull my phone out, checking the text from Sybil.

Are you here yet? Do you need me to come meet you? We’re just past the greenhouse.

I hurriedly respond.

I’m all good. On campus now. I should be there soon.