Enchant (Enchanted #1)

GRAVEL CRUNCHED UNDERNEATH THE tires when I pulled into the driveway. I took the keys out of the ignition and sat. Something wasn’t right.

Like the feeling I had when I was leaving Dani’s house, I seemed to just know this time that something was wrong. I stepped out of the car, stuck the keys in my pocket, and crept quietly into the kitchen through the side door.

The house was pitch dark and quiet. It was late, but Dad normally waited for me to get in. I wasn’t even as late as I sometimes had been. My heart raced with fear and I looked around for anything heavy enough to hit someone with. Finding nothing, I quietly slid open the kitchen drawer and pulled out the heavy-duty flashlight that my dad kept there. I held the thing like a bat as I crept through the house. I wanted to call out for my dad, but I didn’t dare. If someone was in the house, the last thing I wanted to do was alert them to where I was.

I crept around the corner into the living room and down the hallway.

Something slammed into me. Blindly, I tried to beat it away. Someone grabbed my wrist.

“Careful with that,” a husky voice whispered in the dark. My heart sped up, but it wasn’t in fear. “You could hurt someone.”

I rolled over onto my back and stared at the guy above me.

His gray eyes glittered in the darkness like jewels and his dark curls flopped messily over his forehead.

Snapping out of my daze, I barked, “Get off me. Who the hell are you anyway?”

He rolled his eyes like my request was completely asinine. “Ask questions later. We need to leave. Like … now. I packed you a bag.” He stood and grabbed a black duffel bag off the floor, holding it out to me.

I was still sprawled on the floor and he didn’t even bother helping me up.

This time, I was the one to roll my eyes before I stood up.

“You went through my stuff?” I shrieked, grabbing the bag from him—nearly ripping it out of his hands.

“I did,” he replied like him going through my stuff was no big deal, “and by the way, those bras and underwear? Not sexy at all. Don’t you have anything with lace?”

My eyes threatened to pop out of my head and my hand twitched to smack him.

“What. Is. Going. On?” I said. “Why are you in my house? Who are you? Where’s my dad?”

He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re in danger and we really need to go. I’m your protector. Lucky you, right?” He smirked and nodded cockily like what he was saying was perfectly normal and not totally creepy.

My protector? Ha! More like my murderer most likely.

I clenched my teeth. “My protector?” I asked instead—I didn’t want to tip the guy off to my suspicions. If he was planning to kill me maybe I could get away.

“Yeah. You’re a witch and I’m a … sorcerer. Don’t call me a wizard,” he added, “ever. I’m not Harry Potter. See, no lightning-bolt-shaped scar.” He lifted his wavy black hair off his forehead to prove his point. “We call ourselves enchanters, though. It sounds cooler.”

“I’m supposed to just believe you?” I asked and suppressed a laugh.

This guy was clearly crazy. Maybe he’d escaped some mental institution or something.

Do I really believe that?

My gut was telling me this guy spoke the truth but surely it was wrong.

Things like witches didn’t exist.

He rolled his eyes. “We told your father he needed to tell you. Stubborn humans,” he muttered. “Yes, you’re supposed to believe me. Do I look like I would lie to you?” He gave me the most innocent face he could muster.

“Yes! Yes, you do!”

He sighed like he didn’t have time to deal with me. “Where’s your box?”

“Where’s my dad?” I countered.

He groaned and smacked his hand on top of the other. “Mara,” he spoke sternly, “we don’t have time for this. We need to leave now. I’ll explain more later. Now where’s your box?” He spoke slowly like I was too dumb to process his words.

“My box?”

“My God, Mara, surely you know what box I’m talking about?”

“I do, I’m just unsure why we need it.”

He tugged at his hair. “We don’t have time for this. Get your box. They could find us at any time.”

“Who?” I cried. “Who could find us? And how do I know that you’re not the bad guy?”

Gray eyes looked me up and down. “You’ll have to trust me.” He began to play with his lip ring, a look of boredom on his face.

“Yes, because you’re so trusting,” I intoned.

“Get the damn box,” he growled, vibrating with anger.

I sighed. “It’s in my room.” Even if he was a bad guy I didn’t see what could be so important in my box. Granted, I didn’t know what was in there, but still.

He motioned sarcastically with his hand for me to lead the way. “Hurry,” he urged as I stepped into my room. He looked around like he expected a fight. I got on my knees in front of my closet and pulled back the carpet. I then lifted the plywood board beneath and peered into the darkness for the glowing box. The box pulsed with a golden light that shimmered from the unique design on the front. It was some symbol that my dad always said was a family crest, but if this guy was telling the truth then maybe what my dad told me wasn’t true. I pulled it out and blew the dirt off its surface.

Gray eyes snorted. “Steven was smarter than I gave him credit for.”

I quirked my brow.

“Earth, like the dirt there,” he motioned, “disrupts the magic so it can’t be traced.” His eyes widened. “And now that thing is calling to every magical being in the area. We have to go now.”

Stunned, I stood there.

He grabbed the box and my bag from my hands and started down the hallway. I followed behind him like the lamb to the slaughterhouse.

He opened the side door and immediately cursed, “Shit. Take these—” he shoved the items into my arms “—and get in the truck. If I’m not there in five minutes leave. Do you understand?”

“I can’t just leave you,” I cried. Despite his infuriating attitude, I couldn’t leave him here to die because of me. Bad guy or not. I refused to have something like that on my conscience.

Besides, my gut was telling me I could trust him. It was like some invisible tether tied me to him and I knew instinctively we were connected in some way.

“You might have to,” he warned gravely. “Now go,” he cried and shoved me back toward the front door. I could see some kind of dark, shadow-like thing moving around the side door. Gray eyes muttered something under his breath. Light burst forth and the black shadow cried and inched away. Who knew a shadow could cry?

Gray eyes pulled something from the straps of his black—ninja pants? I thought he said he was a sorcerer. The sticks were large and cylindrical shaped. He said something and they began to glow blue and hum before transforming into lethal swords. They still had that glow to them that reminded me of a lightsaber, except the whole thing was glowing even where he held it, and I was pretty sure in Star Wars that would’ve severed his hand.

Looking behind and seeing me, he yelled, “Go, Mara!”

“Look out!” I cried and pointed. He swung the glowing sword.

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