She tenses like she’s surprised, and then rolls her eyes. “Nope. Sorry. Alex wins.” She gives me an air-kiss and heads for the door with a wave of her fingers over her shoulder. She pauses just before she shuts it. “Do not forget to text me.”

I have to question our friendship if she thinks a boy with nice hair trumps magic tricks.

The door clicks shut behind her.

I don’t have time to worry about it, though. Spilled orange soda is calling my name.

“Present time!” Parker shouts while I’m searching for more paper towels.

Deb nods, catching my eye as the kids sprint into the other room. I told her about my surprise. She loved the idea. She squealed and clapped her hands, and I felt a little guilty about trying to show her up. I wanted to win, while she just wanted the best party for Parker.

The doorbell rings, and I dart down the hall and pull open the door. Xander’s not dressed as flashily as he does for the stage. He wears dark jeans and a black shirt and carries a deck of black cards in his hand, shuffling them back and forth like he never really stops.

Already my blood thrums with anticipation—no, from proximity to him. I can feel his magic.

I wave a hand, beckoning. “What are you waiting for? An invitation?”

Xander cracks a grin and deliberately takes a step across the threshold. I’m not one for a vampire joke, but he is, and I feel like I owe him one after holding a stake to his chest last night.

I shut the door behind him. “This way.”

I start to turn away when someone knocks at the door. I frown. All the kids are here. Everyone showed. Turns out, Parker’s really popular.

Maybe Stacie changed her mind.

I pull open the door, ready to make a comment about Alex’s floppy hair not holding magical birds in it, but it dies on my lips.

He almost looks out of place in the daylight. His skin’s so pale it’s like blinking into the sun, and his dark auburn hair shimmers with copper threads in the light. He still wears black slacks and a wrinkle-free white button-up shirt and suspenders.

I don’t even get a chance to say anything before Xander pushes in front of me. “You shouldn’t be here.” Xander’s voice is tight and angry. “What are you doing still following us? You already got what you wanted.”

“Did I?” Roman cocks his head slightly, like he’s trying to see me.

I try to step around Xander, but he shifts, blocking me.

“Worried?” The boy’s voice is deep and calm—not the kind of calm used to soothe a crying child, but the kind that sends shivers up my arms.

“No,” Xander says just a little too fast for it to be true. “What do you want?”