Mine to Spell (Mine #2) by Janeal Falor Read Free Book Online Page B

rigid.”
    One of the voices is getting closer, and the footsteps. Blast! They crunch against the pebbles and dirt, heading straight for me. If he comes close enough to the tins, I’ll be seen, and there’s nothing to be done about it.
    Well, there is something. I’ve always kept my magic secret until yesterday, but if it comes to either my being caught and punished, or using magic, I could hex him. Possibly. But would this be one more thing to make me like father? Would it make me more like the rest of the warlocks? Their cruelty is something I never, ever want to emulate again. But to protect myself, perhaps that is acceptable as long as I don’t become overzealous. My hands shake as I hold them up, ready to defend myself.
    The footsteps move closer. The shaking grows more violent, the energy inside me trembling with it. Suddenly, there’s silence.
    “Hurry it up, Saban.”
    “ There are some things you can’t hurry,” the closer voice shouts back.
    The boys laugh. What are they talking about? Is he trying to slowly sneak up on me? Purposefully making a mess of my emotions before dragging me out of the alley? If so, it’s working. Though the strain on my nerves makes me feel like my magic will erupt at the first sight of him. It’s not a consequence he’d expect. However, as bad as my hands are shaking, my aim would be ineffective.
    I take several slow, steadying breaths like Zade taught us to do when shooting. There’s a strange sound. Like something I should recognize, but don’t. Like a spray of water landing on something hard? Oh, filth! Is he taking care of his personal business in public? Revolting!
    The sound trickles on for much too long before finally stopping. I’m so shocked and dismayed that the shaking in my hands has lessened at least. But as his footsteps sound again, the shaking returns. Until I realize the sound is fading away. I let my shaking hands fall to my lap as he and his friends leave, laughing over his crude manners as they go. Still, I don’t relax until there’s no sound left.
    Once it’s silent for a minute, I start to lean back against the wall. The thought assails me of what that warlock just did. My back goes hexed straight.
    Ugh. How incredibly foul. The only place that would be worse to be right now is back at Edward’s. As exhausted as I am, there won’t be any relaxing this close to where someone relieved himself. I just can’t.
    I stand, brush myself off, and walk toward the street—this time keeping far from the walls. Not far enough, though. My skin itches with the need for scrubbing. I brush myself off again, but it does nothing to ease the feeling. When I’m to the street, I cringe and creep toward the wall, though I don’t touch it. Only the need to stay safe and hidden is keeping me here.
    I peek around the corner and examine the street. No one is coming. When I’m sure no one’s there, I slink out and hurry away from the tainted alley. The extra energy coursing through me after almost being caught wanes. I pass several alleys before I finally pause in front of one.
    This isn’t where I want to hide. What makes this alley different from the last one? It could be just as tainted. My eyes drift closed as I try to find a solution. My body sways out where anyone could see. The realization means it doesn’t matter if the alley is tainted or not. If things stay like this, I will be caught.
    I enter, taking my time and carefully sniffing. It doesn’t smell pleasant, like mildew and kitchen waste, but at least it doesn’t smell like a water closet. I make my way to the back and hunker down behind the bins. The stench of waste is stronger here, but at least I’m out of sight.
    I shift around to make myself comfortable, but it’s impossible to gain any sense of comfort in this place. I give up and simply huddle tight with my eyes closed. The swirling drift of coming sleep quickly follows.
    A drip wets my face. I jolt awake, fearing someone is now using me like