Persie Merlin and the Witch Hunters - Bella Forrest Page 0,28

to be the best version of myself—a good person, undefined by my past. Someone who wanted to be better, do better, and make the world better for monsters and magicals alike. Notoriety wasn’t something I had ever striven for. I wanted my work to speak for me, nothing else.

Genie smiled sadly. “If Atlantis had never risen, maybe I’d have lived long enough to see that change.”

“I know I probably shouldn’t say this, considering what happened back then, but… I’m glad it did rise.” There was more to that sentence, but my throat seized at the intensity in her eyes and I couldn’t say it aloud any more than I could find the words to ask her out.

If it hadn’t, I’d never have met you.

Seven

Nathan

Now that I’d finally found a way to keep the conversation moving with companionable ease, another hour passed by without any notice. Genie loved hearing about the monsters, and I had plenty to say about them. Indeed, it seemed as though Genie not only had a startling effect on the function of my mind, but on the usual rules of time itself. Minutes felt like seconds, and two hours in her company seemed like no time at all. But the hour was growing late—already half-past ten—and I knew the moment we would part ways, at least for today, was fast approaching.

“When do we get to eat?” Genie poked her head around the side of an orb containing a cluster of hobgoblins, squat, gnarled-faced beings with skin that looked like tree bark. They had foul tempers and even fouler body odor, which was luckily masked by the glass orb. But even they were beautiful to me, in their own fashion.

I frowned. “Pardon?”

“We’ve fed all of the beasties, but when do we get to eat? I haven’t had anything since lunch. My stomach is going to start digesting itself, at this rate.” She rubbed her abdomen, which released a formidable gurgle. The sound threw out any ideas I might have had that it was an excuse for us to have dinner together.

“I don’t really have anything here. But we could—” My throat tightened up as I considered suggesting that I cook her something in my apartment.

She smiled, stepping closer. “We could what?”

“Uh… we could find something? The Banquet Hall will be shut, but the kitchenettes are always well stocked.” I wanted to smack myself silly for not going with my first instinct. It was just dinner, no worse than a friend suggesting a bite at home.

She looked away, toward the Repository window. She seemed to do that a lot when she came here, and I’d grown accustomed to her striking profile. No, not accustomed… rather, I’d started to watch for it. She never looked more at peace than when she was looking out that window. It was one of the best views in the Institute. The panes of the window ran all along the far wall, floor to ceiling. Constellations twinkled in the night sky, although it was still fairly light out thanks to the summer’s long days and the shining full moon.

“Hot chips,” she said absently.

“Come again?”

She glanced back at me. “I want fried goodness. There’s always a food van at the car park on the cliff path, and they won’t be bombarded by the pub crew for a few more hours.” She stared down at her outfit. “If you give me five minutes to change in your study, we can go.”

She didn’t give me time to argue. Plucking up her backpack, she sprinted across the marble floor and disappeared inside my study. Meanwhile, I stood by the hobgoblins like a prize lemon, marveling at how easily she’d arranged a non-date. Truth be told, my stomach had started to growl, and the thought of crisp, fluffy-centered chips certainly made my mouth water. I patted my pockets, making sure I had enough Euros for both of us. She might have brought up the idea, but I wanted to be the one to pay. Plus, if she protested, I could say it was compensation for the help she’d given me this evening.

A few minutes later, she reappeared in leggings and a sweater. The bagginess of the latter was incredibly cute. She looked like a hamster in a ball of cotton wool. I smiled, feeling less bad about my own casual attire. Maybe it was better like this, with no pressure to get dressed up or eat somewhere fancy. No pressure to call it a date. We were just two friends