Chapter Eight
Freya
I tapped my fingers against the hardwood table and stopped. Mom had always said it was okay to feel uneasy, but there was no reason to broadcast it.
“You must depart in the morning,” Lyra advised. Her tan face was pursed by a thoughtful frown. “Give yourself as much time as you can to find and capture this thing.”
I nodded, as did Walker and the other Elders gathered around the table. We sat in the lobby of one of the apartment buildings. A chandelier flickered overhead and cast the gleaming white floors in gentle light. Outside, the moon was high in the sky. Exhaustion weighed on me, but I knew that even if it were an option, I couldn’t sleep.
I wasn’t sure how I’d sleep in the next month.
Arion rubbed against my feet in silent support.
At least I still have my cat.
“You, Walker, and the wolf will go,” Gloria said. “But who else?”
“Thea is good at healing,” Gwenyth provided. Her answer did not surprise me. She was Thea’s aunt after all. She would want her niece to be in on the action. “And she has a good head on her shoulders.”
She pushed a dark lock of hair over her shoulder and looked at me with her brown eyes expectantly.
“I trust her,” I said, “but I don’t want to risk more than we have to. I meant what I said. This is on Walker and me to fix.”
Walker nodded. “I’m the one who has to prove myself to the High Witch and to all of you. I’m the one who screwed up.”
“While no one is denying that,” Maeve said flatly, “the consequences of your mistakes befall the entire coven.”
I had already considered our most ancient Elder’s words. I met Maeve’s vividly green gaze without flinching.
“Our coven is powerful,” I said, “and the High Witch is facing something big. Something that makes her desperate enough to recruit fugitives. I’m hoping that even if Walker and I fail, she’ll need our coven’s magic badly enough to spare them.”
“Or,” Anise said and sat back in her chair, “this is all a wild goose chase designed to humiliate the entire coven, and we’re already dead.”
Anise was lovely, despite her old age, but her face was fixed in a permanent frown that was sharpened by the harsh cut of her bob.
“Gotta love the optimism of witches,” Walker muttered.
Anise rolled her dark eyes. “It doesn’t matter anyway. How are you going to control your pet on this adventure, Heir?”
She said Heir like it was an insult . My anger simmered to the surface, but Walker spoke before I could.
“I’ve always done my best after getting thrown into the deep end,” Walker said and shrugged. “I can do this.”
He was bluffing, and it was such a witchy thing to do, I couldn’t help but smile.
Maybe we’ll make a witch of him after all.
“You can’t run from your power,” Gloria advised. “You must harness it. And muddying your emotions with any… entanglements will only worsen your control. Remember that.”
As if her statement weren’t targeted enough, she looked at both of us pointedly. I wanted to squirm under her gaze. I recognized the truth in it. Walker had only lost control when Nathan had brought me into the mix. I had only broken magical covenants when Walker was involved.
Witches don’t believe in love.
I didn’t.
I just wasn’t sure what to call this thing between us or how to stop it.
???
Walker
I walked sluggishly into the apartment I shared with Cadence. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t cramped. The sleek lines, and black and white aesthetic took some getting used to, and I missed our messy, old farmhouse. Poshness didn’t suit me, but we were safer close to the coven.
Cadence immediately launched from her seat on the sofa and into my arms.
“When do we leave?” she asked.
I sighed. “Cady-Cat, don’t you think you should continue your training here?”
“I’ll learn more out there,” she argued.
I studied her face. It was leaner than it had been a month ago. She was taller too, and I no longer had to tuck my chin to look at her. Muscle toned her arms from training, and she now stood with the excellent posture of witches. My sister was strong and capable.
She was still a child.
“Let’s sleep on it,” I suggested and tried to bypass her.
“Uh-uh,” she argued. “You’re a terrible liar, big brother. I just want you to know that you’re also a terrible push-over, and I’m coming on that trip. You’re not leaving me behind again.”
“You know,” I said and leaned against the doorway to my room, “usually, coercing someone goes better if you use flattery instead of bullying. You catch more flies with honey and all that?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not trying to flatter you. You need me, Walker. I can help you control your magic.”
I stiffened. I didn’t want Cadence anywhere near me when I lost control of my magic. I still remembered the mark on Freya’s cheek when I had zapped her. It had taken Freya kissing me after the battle to make me believe my magic wouldn’t strike her again, unless it sensed danger. Besides, the Elders feared my connection to Freya. There was no way I would be able to stop my magic from rising to the surface when it came to protecting my baby sister.
“You can’t run from it, remember?” she said. “You’ll be able to control it better if I’m there, reminding you of what’s at stake. Besides, I’m good at this, Walker. Let me help you.”
“I’m not taking you with me as some sort of emotional liability,” I snapped. “And you won’t be the one to help me, Cadence. It’s not your job. You’re supposed to be the kid.”
“I’ve been the kid all my life!” she argued. “Now’s your turn.”
I shook my head in exasperation. “I’m almost twenty years old! You are eleven. Enough said.”
Cadence scoffed. "I just turned twelve!"
Two weeks ago.
I tried to shut my door, but a root from a potted fern snagged it.
“Really?” Cadence asked. “Can you get the door shut, old man? Or do you need your sister’s mercy to manage it?”
I rammed the door against the root, but it held strong. My magic simmered in response to Cadence’s, but I buried it. I wouldn’t attempt to wield it in the presence of my sister. I couldn’t.
“Stop it,” I told her in a low voice.
Cadence crossed her arms and lifted her chin.
I charged across the room and stared her down.
“You’re the best at protecting me,” she said, “remember? Don’t leave me behind.”
I laughed bitterly. “You just proved that’s no longer true.”
Her expression softened into something akin to pity, and shame turned my stomach. I didn’t deserve her pity. It was my fault we were in this mess anyway. If I had controlled myself with Nathan— Nathan of all people—Cadence wouldn’t be fighting to go on another deadly adventure with me. Freya wouldn’t be struggling to solidify her place as Coven Mother.
I wouldn’t have to go on another trip with Ryder.
My anger dissipated and exhaustion replaced it. I ruffled Cady’s hair.
“Good night,” I said to her.
“Good night,” she answered.
This time, nothing stopped me from closing my bedroom door.
???
Freya
With only Arion at my side, I stared at the mess that was once my whole world.
The most comfortable couch to ever exist was broken. Its plush contents spilled out of its leather exterior. One of the regal, high-back chairs had been shattered against the wall, whereas the other had fallen over. Like the entire floor, bookshelves were littered with sand. Many books were splayed on the ground with the pages ripped.
I stared at my cottage and sighed.
It was time to get to work.
Though the tracking spell had been draining, I wasn’t completely exhausted of magic. With a bit of wind, I carried the sand out the backdoor and into the forest. Repairing the sofa was more laborious. I tracked down a needle and thread from my mother’s vanity and stitched the gaping hole back together. It wasn’t a pretty fix, but it satisfied me.
Next, I cleaned and placed the books back on their designated shelves. I was sure I didn’t organize them as precisely as Mom would’ve, but it only made me smile more to hear her chiding voice in my thoughts.
I journeyed into the kitchen next. Half the jars of herbs were shattered across the floor, and a cabinet door had been ripped from its hinges. I swept the glass and ruined ingredients, then set the cabinet door neatly aside. I would worry about fixing it later.
I wasn’t honestly sure as to why I was worrying about any of it now. In less than twelve hours, I would set off on a journey that would, by Hecate’s mercy, last less than a month. For months, I could’ve come here and surveyed the damage, but I hadn’t. I had cowered from the torn books and shattered glass and discarded memories.
I had cowered from my grief.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into the empty kitchen and sank to the floor. Arion was passed out in the living room. “I’m sorry, Mom. I should’ve come here sooner, I-I…”
I shouldn’t miss Josephine too.
I shouldn’t run from the reminders of what my goddessmother had done. The jar of dahlias—the signalMom had used to tell me who had ended her—was one of the few items left intact. I couldn’t bring myself to move it.
“I’m going to do right by you,” I promised my mother. “I’m going to make you proud.”
I’m just so lonely.
Only one person eased the bones-deep ache of loss. Only one smile always made me smile in return. Only one sense of humor was goofy enough to drag me out of my grief.
But here, surrounded by the ghost of my mother, I had to admit something I had ran from for months.
Though Walker was a balm to my pain, I was a conduit for his.
I had made him into a witch. I had dragged him into the investigation of the murders. I had almost killed him, then I hadn’t been brave enough to let him die.
I didn’t regret saving him. Walker would find his way as a witch. He was too strong-willed not to.
He just wouldn’t find it with me.
Magic intensified hormones and emotions. It had been foolish of me—no, selfish— to allow us to grow closer. I had lied to myself and said it was just pleasure—just blowing off steam.
It had never been just anything with Walker.
He wasn’t equipped to handle the thing between us now, with his powers still wildly out of control. Goddess, I wasn’t equipped to handle it. I was supposed to be a Coven Mother. In two months, I would be coronated. I was a witch.
I was not girlfriend material.
And Walker was a witch now too. It was time to face that—intense romantic feelings were not conducive to being a good or disciplined witch. Such feelings would not help me avoid being decimated by the High Witch Cordelia.
I had once asked Mom why she’d given up her weekend to resolve a conflict between two young witches of our coven. Now, her response rang in my ears.
To lead is to sacrifice.
I had been selfish enough to keep Walker alive, but that would have to be enough.
I would not be selfish enough to try to hold onto him beyond that.
I would let my cowboy go.
???
Light burned my eyes. I stood on scorched, rocky earth, surrounded by flames. In the smoke-filled sky, the sun burned like it had been scorned. I reached for my magic, but I was exhausted. The longer I stood among the destruction, the heavier I became.
I tried to grab magic from the flames surrounding me, but something was wrong with them. Though they raged, no magic flickered in their depths. I sank to my knees.
A spell hummed in my ears. I didn’t recognize the language of the incantation, but the power behind it caused a cold wave of fear to wash over me, despite the intense heat of the flames. Howls joined the spell like a macabre harmony.
Through the smoke and orange fire, a woman grinned. All I could make out was a flash of teeth and full, red lips.
“He’ll pay,” she whispered. “He must pay.”
The woman cackled madly. Thunder cracked, and hot rain poured from the gray sky. The scent of copper mingled with the smoke, and red liquid coated my skin. As it drenched me, I realized it wasn’t rain at all.
It was blood.
I woke screaming.
“Walker!”