100% That Witch - Celia Kyle Page 0,49

They had cute, furry faces and great big ears. They fluttered around her head, and then streamed toward Nathan, their purple wings making patterns in the air as they dipped and swirled around him. Nathan actually smiled and held out his hands so the bats could alight and snuggle against his fingers.

Tiffany had never realized just how good it felt to do things like that on purpose. She should focus on cheering people up more often. She’d spent so much time and energy holding her abilities in that it had never occurred to her to let them run free.

Nineteen

Professor Durendel was finishing his lecture on the transcendental ramifications of organ transplants in arcanes. His course on the philosophy of magic was one of the few classes Tiffany loved. That being the case, she was doing really well in it. As her last class of the day, she was always glad to end on a high note.

“Are there any questions?”

A buzzing in her bag drew her eyes away from the genial, bullfrog of a man at the front of the room. She had promised herself not to look at her phone during classes, but the siren song of it was almost impossible to resist. Old habits died hard.

It was probably only Nero. Though something about that “only” settled strangely into her stomach, almost like she was actually excited to get a text from him. They had a tutoring session after class, so she expected him to fire a shot across her bow reminding her. One of her classmates raised a hand.

“Does this only apply to brains, or are we postulating that other organs can have an impact on the body as well?”

“Excellent question!” Durendel ran a hand over his snowy comb-over as if to make sure it was still in place and then launched in with his answer. “There’s an excellent study by Orlac on the question of hands…”

The venerable professor turned his back to write something on the board, and in his distraction, the temptation proved too great. Tiffany deftly plucked her phone up in a single, swift jab. Huddled over her desk, she saw Nero’s name across her screen and her heart skipped a beat.

Let’s go 2 De Marnacs 2nite.

Funny. The idea of moving their tutoring session to a fancy bar didn’t exactly seem conducive to studying, but at least it meant she wouldn’t have to drive all the way out to the Weeping Woods in the dark.

Great! Meet u there in 20.

Expensive drinks weren’t the ideal use for the money she was scratching together working at Witch Way Supply, but shouldn’t she treat herself occasionally? Ever since her father had cut the purse strings, she’d been living like a nun, so a little splurge couldn’t hurt too much.

Can’t wait. See u soon.

Can’t wait. An air about it made her smile, despite herself. Working alongside Nero hadn’t just helped her grades. It had grounded her in ways that continued to surprise her. She likely wouldn’t have felt like splurging on drinks with anyone else.

“All right,” Professor Durendel’s voice had the ring of finality. “Anything else?” He took that delightfully perfunctory look around the room instructors do when they’re as ready to be done with the day as their charges.

No reply.

“Class dismissed.”

Despite sitting in the back third of the lecture hall, Tiffany was one of the first ones out the door. The light snap of the after-sunset air put an extra hustle in her step, and she wound her way through the dimming streets on hasty feet. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to De Marnac’s.

Nero was standing outside when she rounded the corner, casually looking around for her. When he finally spotted her hurrying up the sidewalk, his eyes brightened and a big smile split his face in two.

“You look wonderful,” he said as he leaned in for a half-hug.

His scent—spicy and almost loamy—filled her senses and her eyes dropped closed as she took as big of a sniff as she could without being obvious. Then his words filtered into her brain and she couldn’t help pulling a wry face. After her little shame-fest with Rhys, it had been a full retreat into the black of her closet. There was some comfort in the familiar, though reverting to her old style still felt a bit like defeat.

“Thanks.” Even if she didn’t feel particularly remarkable, it was nice to get a compliment.

She wanted to compliment him, but she couldn’t summon the courage. Whatever she said would surely come