Flamebound A Lone Star Witch No(13)

I drive the few short blocks to my house, praying the whole way that Lily will be home—and alone. I know it’s not her boyfriend, Brandon’s, fault that his brother is a crazed killer, but the truth is being around him now makes me really, really uncomfortable. It’s another reason I’ve been staying with Declan since I got out of the hospital. Well, that and the fact that it’s not exactly easy to convince him to let me out of his sight for longer than I spend at Beanz. And most days, even that is pushing it. I’ve grown used to looking up from my spot in the kitchen to see him ordering coffee or lounging at a table, a book in his hands.

I pull onto my street and breathe a sigh of relief as I spot Lily’s car in the driveway, by itself. Brandon’s car is nowhere to be seen. Thank the goddess.

I’m still reveling in my good fortune when I walk in the front door and find my best friend sitting on the couch, drinking a martini from an extra-large margarita glass and painting her toenails cyanide green. Neither is a good sign.

“What’s wrong?” I demand, dropping my bag by the door and approaching her cautiously. When she’s in this mood, there’s no guarantee that she won’t bite.

“Nothing. Why?” She reaches for the martini, takes a huge gulp of it, then goes back to painting her toes. All without once looking at me.

“Try telling that to someone who actually believes it.” I hold up the bag of chocolate-covered potato chips resting next to her on the couch. “We both know these only come out in times of extreme trauma. As does the nail polish. So spill.”

She blows out a breath, shrugs. “Brandon and I broke up.”

I ignore the spurt of relief that shoots through me. Now isn’t the time for a happy dance, especially when I get my first real glimpse of Lily’s face and realize her eyes are rid-rimmed and swollen.

“What happened?” I ask after it becomes obvious that no details will be forthcoming.

She looks at me in disbelief. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that his nut-job brother tried to kill my best friend?”

“Yeah, but Brandon had nothing to do with that.” Why am I defending him? Brandon’s given me the creeps for a while now and I should be thrilled he’s out of Lily’s life. And I am. I really am . . . only I hate seeing her look so sad.

“Maybe not, but he insists on defending Kyle. He keeps saying things like it must have been a spell, that Kyle would never do something like that without a good reason.”

My skin crawls. “He thinks there’s a good reason that Kyle raped, tortured and murdered four women?”

“That’s what I said. And then—” Her voice breaks. She grabs the martini and drains it.

“And then?”

“He said the Council must have some reason for wanting you dead. That maybe Kyle was only doing what had to be done. That’s when I gave the sick fucking bastard the boot.”

The boot? Knowing Lily the way I do, I’m a little surprised I didn’t get a call asking me to help her bury a body. “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I know how much you cared about him.”

“No, I’m sorry,” she answers. “I’m sorry that I ever brought them into our lives. I can’t believe I did that to you.”

“That’s ridiculous. Kyle was going to get to me one way or the other. It’s not like I trusted him more because you introduced us.”

“But still. I invited that monster into our house. Made you double-date with him.” She shudders as she finishes the second coat of toenail polish and recaps the bottle.

But when she reaches for the martini shaker, I grab it away before she can pour another glass and drink herself straight into oblivion.

She glares at me but doesn’t say anything. It’s proof that her bad mood is lifting a little. “So, how are things with you and Declan?” she asks. “I haven’t seen you much the last few days, so I figure that has to be a good sign.”

“They’re fine.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

I must not sound very convincing, because this time when she reaches for the martini shaker, she pours the drink and hands it to me. “Then what are you doing here?”

“It’s . . . complicated.”

She laughs. “Sweetie, when you decide to tangle with a man like Declan, you’d better like complicated. It’s pretty much his middle name.”

“It really is. But that’s not why I came over. I actually wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“Oh yeah?” Her eyes narrow with interest. “Well, go ahead and spill then.”