Spellbound Read Online Free Page A

thoughts, Hunter turned and caught my gaze. I blushed, ducked my head, and walked even faster. I was relieved when we turned onto my street.
    My parents and my fourteen-year-old sister, Mary K., were watching a movie in the family room when we got home. Hunter blandly told them he’d had “a little car trouble,” and they clucked and fretted while he called the tow service. When he hung up, I looked at the clock—it was a few minutes after eleven.
    “Mom, is it okay if I take Hunter to his car and then to his house?” I asked.
    Mom and Dad did the usual silent parent-communication thing with each other, then Mom nodded. “I guess so. But please drive extra carefully. I don’t know what it is with you and cars, Morgan, but I’m starting to worry about you on the road.”
    I nodded, feeling a little guilty. My parents didn’t know the half of it. Three weeks ago Robbie had saved my life. Unfortunately he had saved it by driving my car through the stone wall of Cal’s pool house, where I’d been trapped. My parents (who thought I’d hit a light pole) had lent me some of the money to have the front end repaired.
    “Okay,” I agreed, and Hunter and I got our coats again and went out to Das Boot, my giant, submarine-like ’71 Plymouth Valiant. Automatically I winced as I saw its shiny new front bumper, slate blue hood, and gray-spotted sides. I had to get it painted and soon. This rainbow look was killing me.
    Inside my car it was freezing, and its old-fashioned vinyl seats didn’t help any. We didn’t speak as I drove back to Hunter’s car to wait for the tow truck. Hunter seemed lost in thought.
    After only a minute Widow’s Vale’s one tow truck came into view. I’d seen John Mitchell a few weeks before, when I had put Das Boot into the ditch. He flicked a glance at me as he bent to hook the tow chain up to Hunter’s car.
    “We lost the brakes,” Hunter explained as John began to crank the car onto the bed of the truck.
    “Hmmm,” John said, and bent beneath the car to take a quick look. When he came up again, he said, “I don’t see anything offhand,” and spat onto the side of the road. “Besides the fact you don’t seem to have any brake fluid.”
    “Really,” said Hunter. His brows rose.
    “Yeah,” John replied, sounding almost bored. He gave Hunter a clipboard with a paper to sign. “Anyway, I’ll bring it to Unser’s and he’ll fix you up.”
    “Right,” said Hunter, rubbing his chin.
    We got back in Das Boot and watched the tow truck take Hunter’s car away. I started the engine and headed toward the edge of town, toward the little house he shared with Sky. “No brake fluid,” I said. “Can that happen by itself?”
    “It can, but it seems unlikely. I had the car tuned up last week, when I bought it,” Hunter said. “If there was a leak, the mechanic should have caught it.”
    I felt a prickle of fear. “So what are you thinking, then?” I asked.
    “I’m thinking we need some answers,” Hunter said, looking out his window thoughtfully.
    Ten minutes later I pulled up in front of his shabby rented house and saw Raven’s battered black Peugeot parked out front.
    “Are Raven and Sky getting along?” I asked.
    “I think so,” Hunter answered. “They’re spending a lot of time together. I know Sky’s a big girl, but I worry about her getting hurt.”
    I liked seeing this caring side of Hunter, and I turned to face him. “I didn’t even know Sky was gay until she and I did our tàth meànma .” Weeks ago Sky and I had done what I think of as a Wiccan mind meld. When our thoughts had been joined, I had been surprised to see that she felt such a strong desire for Raven, our resident gothy bad girl.
    “I don’t know that Sky is gay,” Hunter said thoughtfully. “She’s had relationships with guys before. I think she just likes who she likes, if you know what I mean.”
    I nodded. I had barely dipped my toes into plain vanilla heterosexual relationships—any