Free The Bridge by Rachel Lou Page A

admit he’s your crush.”
    He had only mentioned that to get his grandfather on another topic.
    “Do you approve of him?”
    “He carries himself with absolute confidence. He reminds me of two boys I knew in college. Both confident, both loud, both charming. Women loved them. But one used his charm to manipulate people. The other was an angel. He used his charm for nothing. I hope your Bryce is the angel.”
    Everett ran a finger over the wings on the folder. “I hope so too.”
     
     
    BACK HOME, Everett’s grandfather tried to contact Omar and received no answer.
    Everett curled with a blanket on the couch and read a book he had picked up from a “Free Book” stand on the way home.
    “Call the Order,” Everett said.
    “I’ll call tomorrow, after Omar flakes again.” His grandfather dialed Omar’s number again.
    “He’s going to have a dozen missed calls tonight if you don’t stop.”
    “The longer we postpone your lessons, the more danger we put you in.”
    He slapped his book shut. His grandfather’s visible unease with Omar’s absence made it difficult to follow the plot.
    “Omar is a regular witch, right? If a regular witch can teach me how to be a Bridge Master, why can’t you?”
    “Some witches are better suited for instructing, but I’d like to teach you aura concealing. It’s a Bridge Master’s first safety measure. Come here.”
    “Should I get my salt?”
    “You need to learn independence from focuses, but your safety is vital, so go ahead.”
    He grabbed his bag from his room before joining his grandfather at the chess table.
    “Aura blocking is vital for Bridge Masters. Your aura acts as a tracking device for normal witches and paranormal creatures. Some view it as a balance of power. The weak can track the strong, but the strong can’t track the weak.”
    It was almost funny how much weaker Everett was in comparison to normal witches. They surpassed him by miles.
    “If someone tries to expose my aura, will anything show?”
    His grandfather opened the salt bag. “No, but it is safer than being tracked 24-7.” Any living thing without an aura was begging for examination. “Now, put your hand inside. What do you think you should visualize in order to block your aura?”
    “A wall?”
    “Try it. There is no correct answer, but some visualizations will work better than others. Let me know when you’re ready to test your block.”
    Everett imagined a wall concealing his glow. “Try it.”
    A small force, like a finger, poked inside his mind.
    His grandfather shook his head. “Still there.”
    He changed the wall to a glass shield. “How about now?”
    The finger returned, its presence weaker.
    “Your aura is muted, but it is still strong.”
    He tried a combination of bricks and glass.
    “It is worse than before.”
    They went through nearly a dozen revisions before Everett found a suitable visualization.
    He sucked his aura into a box and stored it in his mind. With the aura safely contained within, only he had access to it.
    He withdrew his hand from the salt. “Is it gone?”
    His grandfather nodded. “That was faster than I anticipated. I shouldn’t be surprised. Your parents were also fast learners.”
    Everett’s smile was painful and fake as he knotted his bag.

Chapter 11
     
     
    THEY ATE lunch on the shop’s second floor. The apartment was in better shape than Everett last remembered. His grandfather had already begun cleaning it. The kitchenette and dining room were tiny, but easy to maintain. Their electricity use would be less than in the house.
    His grandfather put a cleaning supply kit on the kitchenette counter and instructed him to wipe down the kitchen.
    The bookstore was a corner shop, so the kitchen window had a nice view of one of downtown Sundale’s busy intersections. Everett peered out the window in between cleaning the crannies of the kitchenette.
    The shop opened for several hours in the morning to catch early bird Sunday shoppers. Sundays