“Where the heck was I while you were playing Grand Theft Cellar?”

“What the heck is that?" I asked, pointing to a dark stain in the nearest corner."Okay, number one question you *don't* want to hear in a creepy cellar," Archer said ...”

“Archer's necklace thing may have spared us the crushing headache and loss of breath, but it didn't make the landing any more graceful. We were tossed into a thick copse of trees as we came out of the blackness, and I immediately tripped over a huge exposed root, scraping my elbow on a branch as I went down.Unfortunately, since the necklace was looped around both our necks, that meant Archer fell too. On top of me.In another lifetime,that might have been kind of pleasant. And yeah, he still smelled nice, and as I grabbed his shoulders to push him away, I remembered that he was a lot stronger than his thin frame would suggest.But none of that mattered. I didn't get to notice those things about him anymore.The ground I was lying on was muddy, and I had a feeling I'd be pulling leaves and twigs out of my hair for all eternity. "Get off of me!" I mumbled against his collarbone, shoving at him. He rolled over onto his back, his sword clanging against a rock or exposed root, but thanks to the necklace, that just pulled me half on top of him."And here I thought you were playing hard to get," he whispered. Moonlight glinted in his eyes, and he sounded a little out of breath. I told myself it was just from the fall.I thwacked his chest with the palm of my hand, then ducked my head underneath the necklace. Once I was free, I scooted away from him. "Let me guess," I hissed, nodding at the chain. "Something else you stole from Hex Hall."He pushed himself to his feet. "Guilty.""Where the heck was I while you were playing Grand Theft Cellar?""I only took a few things, and most of those I grabbed during those last few weeks when you weren't talking to me.”

“I should say upfront that I have never been in a cellar in my life. In fact, I can see no reason why anyone should ever go into a cellar unless there is wine involved.”

“There was a sensible part of me somewhere that clutched its pearls and hissed that I better not give up my V-card in a CELLAR, but when Archer's hands slid under my shirt and onto the skin of my back, I started thinking that a cellar was as good a place as any.”

“Last semester was intense,” I said to Dad. “Intense?” he echoed, picking up my file. “Let’s see. On your first day at Hecate, you were attacked by a werewolf. You insulted a teacher, which resulted in semester-long cellar duty with one Archer Cross. According to the notes, the two of you became ‘close.’ Apparently close enough for you to see the mark of L’Occhio di Dio on his chest. I flushed at that, and felt Mom’s arm tighten around me. Over the past six months, I’d filled her in on a lot of the story with Archer, but not all of it. Specifically, the whole me-making-out-in-the-cellar-with-a-murderous-warlock-working-with-the-Eye-part.”

“It’ll make you feel better.” "By making me dead?” I asked. “I mean, I’m sure that would make my headache go away, but that’s a heck of a side effect.”