Witch Season

Chapter One

The witch across the street had terrible taste in coffee.

Katherine Barnes shifted against the leather seat of her Beetle as she stared out the window, pushing a strand of sweaty brown hair behind her ear.

Despite Los Angeles’ reputation for being consistently seventy and sunny, there’d been an ever-increasing number of days that topped ninety.

Six so far in the month of October. A cut on her palm, a flick of her wrist, and Katherine could entrench herself in a small bubble of the real fall weather she so desperately craved, but she wasn’t one to waste magic like that.

The witch across the street had no such reservations.

He pricked his finger to cut to the front of the Starbucks line.

Sliced into his hand to avoid the six-dollar charge for the monstrosity of whipped cream–laden hell he ordered.

Dripped a bead of red onto the ground to force two ordinaries from their table so he could manspread while he scrolled Reddit.

He didn’t bother trying to hide his magic, but it didn’t matter.

The people in line had missed him the first time they checked.

The barista must have scanned his card—she just spent so much time over-caffeinating others that she’d become under-caffeinated herself.

Those hipsters needed to go feed the meter anyway.

Ordinaries had a way of looking past things they didn’t understand.

They were small crimes, the kinds of things most witches blew right past. But if Katherine’s suspicions were right, this man’s transgressions went way beyond coffee chains. Once she caught him in the act, he would be firmly in Katherine’s crosshairs. In her coven’s crosshairs.

She watched through the window as the witch cemented his new mouthful of cavities by sucking down the last dregs of his drink. He didn’t bother throwing it away before leaving the store. Katherine prickled.

She hadn’t become Aestas Coven’s designated law enforcement for the sole purpose of finding privileged assholes to take her anger out on, but it was certainly a perk.

The witch crossed the street, the bounce in his step showing just how little he expected consequences to find him this morning. Katherine reached into her pocket and pulled out the switchblade that had been resting heavily against her leg. She flicked it open, running a finger along its sharp edge.

The witch slipped into an alley between two of the sky-high office buildings, and Katherine knew this was her moment. Her fingers clenched around the handle of her blade, the cold metal a relief against the sweltering heat of the sun as she got out of the car.

It was time to go to work.