I met up with Mia before her flight to collect the remaining ingredients for the spell. Her face lit up with a wicked grin at the mention of a Grimoire spell.
“What did Kismet say?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorway of her open front door.
I shrugged and tightened my hold on the bag of ingredients. “She, uh, doesn’t know.”
Mia’s eyes grew wide as oranges. “Man, Desi. You’ve got some balls. What if something goes wrong?”
I rubbed the back of my neck and stared at the concrete porch. “What choice do I have? I have to leave, and I can’t afford to go with mortal transportation. If something goes wrong, like I accidentally teleport to England or something, then at least it’ll be an awesome adventure away from this small town.”
Mia raised an eyebrow. “Be careful what you wish for.” She nodded toward the bag of ingredients. “Take care of those. Some of them can be nasty.”
I stared at the bag and brought it up to my arms, cradling it to my chest like a baby. “What does your mom use it for?”
“Exorcisms, mostly.”
My jaw dropped to the ground, and it felt like a pile of bricks sank into my stomach.
Mia laughed at my reaction and ruffled her sandy brown hair. Her hand shook in the process.
“Hey, are you all right, after...?” I couldn’t finish.
Mia’s smile vanished, and she dropped her hand, hiding it behind her back. “Yeah. Fine. Thanks to your quick thinking getting me out of there.”
I knew she was being earnest, but bitterness laced her tone. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.
“I hear Cameron’s completely healed,” she said, her tone more cheerful. “It’s like his arm was never injured. Kismet’s a miracle worker.”
I winced as guilt wriggled through my stomach like a worm that wouldn’t stop growing. “Yeah, she really is.”
LATER THAT EVENING, during Kismet’s human hour, I joined her for dinner as usual and carefully brought up the subject of spring break.
“José’s abuela invited me to stay with her,” I said, staring at my fingers. I clutched at the edge of the table while Kismet ate noisily in front of me. “They’re leaving early tomorrow morning and offered me a ride.”
Kismet stopped chewing and glanced at me over the table. “That’s a long drive. I should come with you.”
I shook my head. “The magical crime rate is practically nonexistent in Miami. Plus, his abuela is a powerful witch. We’ll be fine.”
Kismet swallowed. “What about school?”
I froze, staring intently at the edge of the table. She knows. She knows I’m going to drop out and stay in Miami. “What do you mean?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice even.
“I mean, don’t you have a huge project due after spring break?”
I exhaled slowly as relief spread through me. “Right. Yeah, José’s going to help me with it.”
Kismet chewed thoughtfully as she stared at me. “All right. But if you ever get lost, look for the nearest clocktower.”
I blinked, my eyebrows creasing in confusion. “What?”
Kismet dropped her hand on the table, her eyes widening in exasperation. “Frack, Desi, you would die without me.”
I smirked at her usage of my favorite curse word.
Kismet cleared her throat and laid her hands flat on the table for emphasis. “Think of it as a police precinct. You’re in a strange area and you don’t know anyone. Cast a spell at the face of the clocktower—any spell. You can even Push the face and that’ll do. Witches and warlocks constantly monitor clocktowers for any magic and respond within minutes. How do you not know this?”
I shrugged. “I remember Mom mentioning clocktowers years ago, but I wasn’t paying attention. Besides, I’ve never needed it—I’ve never gotten lost before.” With my parents so busy hunting demons, we hadn’t exactly taken many family vacations. I’d been in North Grove my whole life. “So they monitor every single clocktower in the world?”
“Yes, they do. It’s part of magical law enforcement. Add that to the long list of careers you’ll never pursue because you hate magic.” Kismet blinked and then appraised me as if just noticing I was there. “Except . . . that’s changing, right? Have you given any more thought to meeting with the coven?”
I coughed and chewed on my fingernails. “Yeah, uh, I’ll still be in Miami. Sorry.”
My response was met with a deadpan stare. Clearly, Kismet wasn’t at all surprised by this. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
ANXIETY AND GUILT PLAGUED me all evening. Although I tried sleeping for a few hours, my mind wouldn’t be silenced. So when the alarm chirped from my phone at two in the morning, I sat up slowly, sifting through a tornado of thoughts and fears to find the resolve to cast the spell.
I scrawled a short note to Kismet and left it on my bed. It read: Used teleportation spell to travel to Miami. So sorry.
As I reread it, I internally cringed. So inadequate, I thought. But I would beg Kismet’s forgiveness later.
Remembering Mia’s warning about the dangers of her mother’s ingredients, I snuck the cauldron and bag of ingredients to the small balcony in the back. The last thing I wanted was to set the apartment on fire.
I compiled the easiest components first, squinting at my chicken scratch handwriting on my notepad—I hadn’t wanted to try sneaking the Grimoire out of the junk room in case Kismet could somehow sense its power.
My hands shook as I dumped the bloodroot, jimsonweed, nightshade, nux oil, and cypress into the cauldron. Using a meat tenderizer, I crushed everything together to form a foul-smelling sticky paste. Then I peered in the bag at the ingredients from Mia. Holding my breath, I overturned the jars of newt’s eye,
