Chapter 13
After our shift, Orion swiftly disappears, off to do God knows what. I’m not overly eager to head home yet, so I drift through the streets like a ghost. I don’t have a destination in mind. Instead, I allow fate to guide me.
I walk past bars and restaurants, boutiques and art galleries. I stroll through groups of old people laden with shopping bags and fanny packs and stop to admire an artist painting vibrant caricatures of a family.
In a city as lively as this, how could anyone ever feel alone?
But I am alone, in my grief and my fear and my responsibility.
I’m the one who will bear the weight of the coven on my shoulders, but that’s only if I can figure out why Joelle will end up attacking me. She seems nice enough. In another life, maybe I would even have a chance with her.
What could possibly lead a girl like that to murder?
If she loves magic so much, maybe that’s the key. Desire is a powerful drug, and sometimes it’s easier to destroy what you can’t have.
A spark of electricity flares up my arm as the back of my hand brushes against someone else’s skin. When I whirl around, I lock eyes with a slender white girl with a sharply pointed chin and chestnut-colored hair that falls at her shoulders. Her icy blue eyes are calculating as she assesses me.
At first glance, I could convince myself that she’s no one special, but the wind whispers, “You know who she is.”
One moment she’s standing in front of me on the sidewalk, and the next, she’s been swallowed up in the crowd.
“No!” I bolt after her, determined not to miss this opportunity to confront a Hightower in the flesh.
Our paths have never crossed, but I’ve heard her name uttered in hushed whispers during rare mentions of the Hightower coven. There was talk of a young heiress the same age as Orion and me.
There’s no doubt in my mind I just stood face-to-face with Aria Hightower, the granddaughter of her coven’s Matron.
It seems like no coincidence to run into her right after the Council meeting. For all I know, I could be racing straight into a trap, yet she doesn’t glance over her shoulder to ensure that I’m following. In fact, I can barely keep up with her.
I weave through the crowds, shoving past slow walkers in an effort to keep up with the flash of dark hair. I follow her for several blocks until she crosses the street and disappears into a storefront. Blurriness takes over my vision until I avert my gaze from the store.
That’s strange. Every time I shift my eyes back in that direction, a haze slips over the building’s facade. I squint and blink to clear it, but nothing works.
Something isn’t right here. My sight is being directed away from this store, which means someone really doesn’t want me going inside.
If I hadn’t been following Aria, I likely never would’ve paid any attention to this place.
When I cross the street, a force repels my body in the opposite direction.
This isn’t a glamour but a full-on ward, meant to keep me away.
It isn’t impossible to disable another witch’s ward, but it does take a fair amount of energy.
I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do it alone.
I cross back to the opposite side of the street and dial Orion’s number.
The line goes straight to voicemail. I stare down at my phone, frustration crawling up my throat.
Even after everything that’s happened, he can’t be bothered to keep his phone on!
Sure, maybe the battery died, but that isn’t a good enough excuse. Not when witches are dying.
I need him, and he isn’t there. I guess I’m going to have to do this myself.
My eyes slip shut as I send my magic shooting toward the ward. I search for a weak spot in the foundation. Once I identify a crack, I force all my magic into it, sending hairline fractures spiderwebbing through the ward until it shatters.
When I open my eyes, my view of the storefront is clear and unobstructed.
Whoa, did that really happen? I stare down at my hands with fresh eyes. If others in the coven could see what I did, maybe they wouldn’t question my ascension.
I crane my neck to read the sign hanging above the door—Crescent Moon Books. Tendrils of ivy crawl along the edges of the sign, highlighting the intricately designed crescent-moon shape. In the window, a stack of recent bestsellers is displayed with a sign that advertises New and Vintage Books.
Once upon a time, I would’ve prided myself on knowing every single bookstore in the city, but I swear I’ve never seen it before.
Which makes sense if I was never meant to discover this place.
From the number of customers milling around inside the store, Crescent Moon is a very successful bookstore.
The Hightowers have been operating under our noses for years.
It was only a twist of fate that brought me straight to their doorstep.
Aria is still inside, but she could leave at any moment. I need someone with a car so I can follow her.
I send Malik a quick text and hope that he isn’t partying with Orion.
Twenty minutes later, Malik’s silver Camry pulls into an open parking space down the street. As I slide into the back seat, Malik and Lizzie both turn to peer at me.
“Are you all right?” Lizzie asks.
“We were leaving Chris’s place when you texted,” Malik adds.
I wave away their concern. “Yeah, I’m fine. Do you remember the meeting a couple days ago? The warning that Gramps gave?”
They both nod.
I point toward Crescent Moon. “Well, one of the people who might be responsible is in that bookstore right now, and I want to follow her.”
Lizzie scrunches her forehead and glances back and forth between me and the store. “Wait, rewind. How did you find this place, and why have I never seen it before in my life?”
I quickly explain the broken ward and the Council’s theory that the Hightowers might be responsible for the illness.
Malik whistles. “You got lucky, cuz. No one’s seen one of those witches in years.”
“Maybe too lucky,” Lizzie muses. “What if this is a trap?”
“I’ve already thought of that.” I reach forward to pat their shoulders. “That’s why I’ve got the two of you.” There’s a flash of movement as Aria steps out of the bookstore. “That’s her!”
She isn’t alone this time. There’s a tall, lanky white guy at her side with greasy dark hair slicked back into a bun. They slip into a black SUV with tinted windows and pull away from the curb.
“Let’s go.”
My stomach flips itself into knots as Malik tails them, keeping at least one car in between to avoid suspicion. We follow them over the bridge to Algiers. As we pass over the vast expanse of the Mississippi River, I can’t help but feel small.
There’s so much of the world I haven’t seen yet.
I’ve barely left Louisiana, unless you count all the places I’ve traveled within the pages of books.
On nights when I’d sit at the kitchen table doing homework, Gran would sometimes watch over my shoulder and kiss the top of my head.
You’re so smart, you can go anywhere you want, she’d say.
They’ll be throwing scholarships at your feet.
A sharp pang of longing hits my chest. If she knew I didn’t apply for a single scholarship, she’d lose her mind.
But how was I supposed to leave when all of my memories of her are swirling through New Orleans?
Besides, I can’t leave the coven now even if I wanted to.
I know it’s why Gramps hasn’t said anything about college.
My life is here, and it seems my death will be, too.
Unlike the larger-than-life homes in my neighborhood, the street Malik turns onto is filled with traditional two-story redbrick houses.
It looks more befitting of a nondescript suburb in a Midwestern town.
I find it hard to believe that the Hightowers are really hiding out here, but I suppose if they want to stay under the radar, then this is appropriate.
The SUV pulls into the driveway of a massive house with arched windows and narrow sculpted shrubs on either side of the front door. Three other cars are parked at the end of the driveway.
“Don’t stop in front of the house,” Lizzie scolds, smacking Malik’s arm. “Pull forward and turn around so we’re not sitting ducks.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Malik gives her a mock salute and drives past the house.
I glance out of the window and make eye contact with a white woman watering her flowers in a neighboring yard. “One of you should shield the car from view,” I say, leaning between the front seats. “Otherwise, some nosy neighbor is going to call the cops.”
“Shit, you’re right,” Malik swears. “Doesn’t Uncle Zeke know some white people he can hire for a stakeout?”
“Not any he would trust with coven business.”
“Why don’t you shield the car yourself?” Lizzie asks.
“Shield a whole car? I, uh, don’t think I’m that good at it.”
Her expression softens. “Try,” she says.
We stare into each other’s eyes, waiting to see who will give in first. Lizzie believes in me, so I can’t let her down now. Besides, I did shatter the ward at the bookstore all by myself. Maybe I can do this, too.
I grip the seat with both hands and focus my intention on making us as unnoticeable as possible. I imagine a cover of invisibility being tossed over the car.
“Disappear.”
At first, nothing happens. Sweat beads on my forehead as I sink more of my energy into the spell. Malik and Lizzie exchange a glance, which forces me to expend even more effort. The last thing I want to do is disappoint them with my failure.
Beneath us, there’s a slight shudder before the seats grow hazy beneath my fingers. Malik’s and Lizzie’s bodies take on a slight transparency, while outside the windows everything remains crystal clear.
Relief floods my system. I really shielded three people and a whole car, something I’ve never tried to do before. Maybe I’m not as hopeless as I’ve always thought.
“There she is,” I say, spotting Aria.