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be gone in two months, hating me or otherwise. It was best to draw a line, understand that isolation was more at play than anything else. When all was said and done, Leo would go back to his friends and family, and I would be only a memory. A few charcoal drawings and cups of tea didn’t change that; neither did my growing desire for him to stay around. No, I had to acknowledge reality, remember that Leo had a life that he wanted back, as did I. Soon, my room would be filled with overpriced, living flowers once more. I’d put all my attention back on the florist, back to my job, and back to the performance of a lifetime that was me being human.

I turned myself back to finding something to wear for the party, squeezing into the small space between the bed and dresser and sucking it in so I could open the drawers and look for what I would inevitably wear that night. From the looks of it, this wasn’t black tie, but it also wasn’t a jeans and t-shirt affair. Another one of those difficult occasions.“You’re lucky, Leo,” I changed the subject, “People never expect much from men.”

He laughed.

11

Auspicious

White marble and gold-leafed columns greeted us at the entrance to the home, the party turning out to be far more than we’d expected. It was hard not to recognize the building in front of us, even if it's mailing address wasn't quite familiar. It appeared in the papers so often, a stout, beady-eyed red-haired woman standing in front of it with her politically approved haircut.

"What kind of potions has Yvie been brewing again?" Leo asked, his eyes trained forward yet his hand dangling dangerously close to mine. It was almost second nature to Leo and me at this point, so often did one guide the other that gripping each others hands felt like the normal thing to do. "And for who?"

Yvie and Gigi had left ahead of us, giving the two of us only a copy of her invitation, her handwritten note just underneath the words plus one. A part of me thought that they'd had us arrive separately in case we saw the location and decided to leave; another part of me knew that if Yvie knew where this address was, she wouldn't have been stupid enough to show up. No, Yvie would never bring Gigi to a place like this, not knowingly. Whoever wrote that address down was playing a cruel joke on her, or--

"We have to go in," Leo said with a grimace, "just for the chance that this is an actual legitimate gathering." Still, he made no efforts to move.

"There wouldn't be a gathering here, Leo," I croaked. "There's not been witches on this property since they burned them on the front lawn."

Pat Lobdel's house. The mayor.

There had to be a mistake.

"Landon said that Rowan and the others were hanging out with some of the upper-crust, is it such a stretch--" Leo began but stopped upon seeing my facial expression. He checked his phone once more, almost willing the maps app to be incorrect. He entered the address once more, wincing as it once again announced our arrival.

"Leo," I said, my voice still low. We stood on the sidewalk outside the mansion, people coming and going in their cocktail dresses as we still dawdled, still debated, and still wondered how we ended up here. "Pat Lobdel hates witches." Hate wasn't a strong enough word, absolutely loathed with every fiber of her being was closer to the way she felt.

"I know," Leo breathed, his fingers brushing against mine. "Lyra, I understand if you want to go home, but…"

"You're not going to know anyone; you won't be able to find what you need without me," I summarized with a nod, a sinking feeling slowly becoming more prominent in my stomach.

"You're a human," Leo tried. "No magic, nothing. You're here with your friend, who has just so happened to escort you as a date, due to another friend's invitation. That's the story, nothing more. I can do the rest of the talking, just stay close. I promise you, I won't let anything happen to you."

"Leo…"

"Believe it or not, this is the one time when I can make good on that promise."

I knew what people thought the moment I entered the room; I knew their mistaken assumptions. My head rested on Leo's shoulder and my hand curled around his arm as I walked as near to him as possible; It was the same thing they thought before. Upon his reassurance, I didn't stray from him, and he didn't complain. Likely knowing that it was the only way to get me into the manor, the only way to keep me from running. Leo's hand wrapped around my waist in turn, guiding me further and further through the mayor's home.

The funny thing was, he seemed almost familiar with the layout of the place. It took a moment, perhaps a minute of me inspecting one of the many paintings on the wall to realize the reason why; he'd been here before. A familiar style of art hung on the wall, long, straight charcoal lines that I’d seen a week prior. He was amongst the local artists whose work hung in the mansion, a connection to the community to ensure that Pat would be elected again. He caught my eyes looking at the walls and chuckled, once again looking far too comfortable, even as more finely dressed visitors passed us by. Leo, clad in his oversized cardigan and henley shirt, daring enough to wear jeans; he had the nerve to look comfortable.

"You ever think to mention that you know the mayor?" I whispered into his shoulder.

"A business relationship," Leo muttered in response. "Pleasant on her side, not on mine. I drew her probably the single worst piece of art I've ever made. Soulless, lifeless, the city hall in all of its photorealistic glory. Unfortunately, nearly every time I

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