Lady Renegades (Rebel Belle #3)(50)

The couple stopped kissing. Or, rather, they froze, lips still touching, and Blythe gave a satisfied sigh. “Okay, that trick lasts like a minute,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”

We hurried past the unmoving couple, making our way out into the silent hallway. Even before we got to the street, Blythe was already pulling the pages out of her waistband, and as soon as we were in the car, she was looking at them again.

“You can do it, right?” I asked, starting the car. Blythe had reached up, turning on the dome light overhead and making it slightly trickier to see the darkened streets in front of me.

For a long time, the only sound was Bee’s breathing in the backseat and the rustle of the pages as Blythe read.

Then she lifted her head, looked at me, and said, “Well, if we’re going to do this spell, we’re going to need some supplies.”

“So you can do it?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the road.

And when Blythe just made a sound low in her throat, I told myself that surely that was a yes.





Chapter 26


I DON’T KNOW if you’ve ever been to a flea market, but it’s not exactly something I can recommend. I mean, unless you need some sketch jewelry, a puppy, or a cassette tape from 1988, flea markets usually don’t have much to offer. But Blythe was sure that we could find what we needed for the spell at the one she’d seen advertised in one of those colorful flyers you can pick up outside a grocery store. After a less-than-comfortable night sleeping in the car, we pulled into the field serving as the parking lot and stared at all the booths laid out in front of us.

It was already hot: Sweat was beading on my upper lip (ew) and starting to trickle down my spine. The little colored triangular flags they’d hung up just lay there, limp and listless since there was no breeze. The air smelled of car exhaust, animals, and the faint tang of lemonade from a nearby concession stand. In a lot of ways, it reminded me of the Azalea Festival back home, just dingier and a little more depressing.

Which was quite the feat. Once you’ve watched grown men chase greased pigs, it’s hard to find anything that actually seems scuzzier.

Bee slid the sunglasses up on her head.

“So whatever it is you need to do this spell, it’s . . . here?”

Blythe nodded. Her dark hair was tucked behind her ears, and while she’d been quieter since our trip to Alexander’s, she also seemed . . . more settled. Probably because we finally had a plan. I knew that was making me feel better, even as I tried to ignore the pang the thought of a memory-less David caused me.

Still, better that than a Super Oracle David or, even worse, a dead one, which was why I put up with this trip to the flea market to get whatever it was Blythe wanted.

“Where do we even start?” Bee asked, and Blythe looked around.

“Jewelry booths,” she said, and gave a decisive nod. “Over there near the weapons stuff.”

Which maybe seemed like a good idea, but this was a flea market, which meant that there were roughly nine thousand jewelry booths, and that wasn’t even counting all the people advertising “rocks and gemstones.” Blythe tackled one end of the long line of tables and open car trunks, and Bee and I headed for the other. I know we should have split up to save time, but I wanted to talk to Bee out of Blythe’s earshot.

The table I picked was one of the nicer ones, spread with what was probably a Christmas tablecloth, bright poinsettias blooming across the white cotton. There were boxes of various polished stones—amethysts, fool’s gold, plenty of quartz—and if what Blythe was after was in here, I sure couldn’t feel it. Still, I poked through the rocks, and without looking over at Bee, said, “This is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Or, you know, a magic rock in a box of not-magic rocks.”

Bee snorted, her sunglasses back in place. “She said we’d be able to sense it if we touched it, right?”

I shrugged. “She did, but for all we know, that just means she’ll be able to feel it. We could be duds at the Magic Rock Hunting Game.”

“She was right about Alexander’s place,” Bee admitted, moving over to my table. Under the morning sun, her shoulders were tanned and freckled, and I wished I had thought of wearing a tank top. How could it be this hot when the sun had been up for only a few hours?

After nodding and smiling at the lady by my table, I strolled farther down the line, Bee trailing behind me. “She was,” I said, passing a booth full of slightly grubby stuffed animals. “And I feel like she’s right that we’re on David’s trail. It’s just—”

“You’re not crazy about this spell,” Bee finished, and I stopped in front of another table of jewelry, rings and necklaces and stuff, all laid out on little velvet trays. I hated to keep groping people’s wares without actually planning on buying anything, so I tried to run my finger over everything as quickly as possible before moving on, not lingering if I didn’t have to.

“I’m really not,” I told Bee. “I mean, I get it. If we can neutralize David, we keep him safe. We keep us and everyone we love safe. It’s clearly the best solution.”

“It is,” Bee said, picking up a heavy turquoise stone on a silver chain, “but it’s also a solution that ends with him not knowing who you are anymore.”

There was no disagreeing with that. I’d told myself that I would do whatever it took to stop David and save him. That this was about me being a Paladin, not me being his girlfriend. But maybe that was just incipient heatstroke talking.