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learned what she’d done at the murder scene only hours before.

The memory sent pinpricks of energy across Hunter’s palms. She dropped her ponytail and clenched her fists by her sides. She knew blood magic was important. She’d felt it during Mercy’s grief spell and again near the old olive tree and the imprint of Earl Thompson’s body. Sarah Goode’s grimoire had been exactly what she’d needed to feel at ease with her new predilection. Blood magic had been used before, so it wouldn’t be the worst thing if Hunter used it again.

Mercy grabbed Hunter’s clenched fist and dragged her toward the emptying bleachers, pulling Hunter and her thoughts from the want that radiated through her fingertips to her fluttering heart.

“Are you excited?” Mercy nearly squealed. “I mean, I know this spell and everything is really serious, but I can’t help but be a smidge excited. I’ve always wanted to be able to share my spellwork with friends.”

They stopped near the metal stands. Hunter rubbed her palms together. She didn’t mind keeping her spellwork to herself. However, she did mind that she’d have to share more of their family secret with Kirkles.

A loud “Mustangs!” roared from the football field followed by whoops and cheers from the crowd. Hunter blew out a puff of air. Even though she’d dodged Mercy’s question and had no interest in including Kirk in their upcoming spell, she knew her sister had been correct. No matter how much Hunter disliked Kirk, he was the only other person they trusted enough to ask to participate. Hunter scrunched her nose. Trusted was such a strong word.

Hunter shook away the shell she’d gotten so adept at hiding in whenever she was forced to be around a crowd, and searched the throng of people for her own Hail Mary pass. She shielded her eyes against the starbursts of sunlight shooting off the players’ scuffed red helmets as, one by one, the varsity players removed them and shuffled off the field. “Jax!” She lifted onto her tiptoes and waved.

“I don’t see Kirk.” Mercy chewed her bottom lip and searched the crowd of stinky white practice jerseys for her beloved.

Jax returned Hunter’s wave and flashed her a cute, crooked-toothed grin before he slapped his teammate on his bulky shoulder pads and jogged over, his helmet in his hand.

“H! You came to a practice!” Jax’s brows lifted and he enveloped her in a sweaty hug, his helmet bumping against her back with each gentle squeeze. “Hell must’ve finally frozen over.”

“Where’s Kirk?” Mercy asked before Hunter had even taken a breath to speak.

Jax scratched the back of his neck and swallowed. “He’s, uh…” His gaze flicked across Mercy and settled on the dusty, worn gravel between his cleats. “Talking to Coach, I think.”

Mercy’s cheeks plumped with a smile. “I see him,” she said and practically skipped over to meet the sweaty quarterback.

Hunter crossed her arms over her chest and squinted up at her best friend. “Did you pull another Mrs. Ritter and see my sister’s boobs, too?”

Jax stiffened. “What? No!”

“Then what’s with the weirdness? I can practically feel it pouring off you.”

He picked at a clump of dirt stuck to the back of his helmet. “You’re not going to like it.”

She shrugged. “I don’t like a lot of things.”

Jax took a breath, held it for a moment, and let the words rush out with his exhale. “Yeah, but this is about your sister.”

Hunter’s stomach squeezed and her fingertips went cold. Someone was talking about Mercy? Hunter’s attention snapped to her sister, to the people who waved and smiled at her as they passed. This didn’t make sense. Everyone loved Mercy. Hunter’s throat tightened. And worse, they were saying something so bad that Jax, the guy who used to pull spaghetti noodles through his nostrils like slimy dental floss, was uncomfortable?

Mercy caught Hunter’s gaze, waved, and bounded back over with Kirk on her heels.

“Tell me later,” Hunter said before pinning a casual smile to her lips.

Mercy wriggled into the space next to Hunter as she positioned Kirk across from her and next to Jax. “We have something mega important to ask you two!” Mercy punctuated the statement with a short series of claps. “It’s serious.” She dropped her hands to her sides. The words seemed to be more a reminder to herself than an explanation. “But I’m pretty sure you’re both going to say yes.”

“Babe, you don’t even have to ask. The answer is yes. I’d do anything for you.” With his sweat-soaked hair, pinched brow, the occasional attaboy Whitfield that came from the passersby coupled with the way he tilted his chin slightly to the side as if to say, yeah, I’m hot, but I’m also approachable, Kirk attaboy Whitfield looked like every hunky teen heartthrob in every sappy teen romance movie Hunter had ever seen. She could fault producers for being so heteronormative, but she couldn’t fault them for the jock stereotype.

Mercy shuffled forward, lifted onto her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. Hunter’s lips forgot their fake smile and tugged down with a frown. She couldn’t imagine liking anyone enough to kiss them through all of that sweat.

Jax set his helmet on the gravel and took Hunter’s hand in his. “And, babe, I’d do anything for you. No asking. No questions. Not one. Ever.” He sealed the breathy vow with a smattering of noisy kisses against the back of Hunter’s hand.

Kirk bristled. “Piss off!” He wrapped his arm around Mercy’s shoulders and squeezed her against his side. “You know how much I care about my little witch.”

Jax rolled his eyes and steadied himself. “Sure you do,” he grumbled.

Hunter would have to find out more about that, too.

Mercy hopped away from Kirk and back to her spot next to Hunter. “Actually, speaking of witches, there’s this spell—”

“I knew it!” Jax snapped his fingers and shoved Kirk’s shoulder. “I frickin’ knew you two were going to ask us to do another spell. What is it this time? Something for Em? Oh! What about a way to

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