Chapter 6
SARAH
The wards chime with recognition and I don’t need the doorcam to know it’s Harper. Her greeting is sullen as she stomps over the threshold, and I feel like barking at her that I’ve not had the best morning, myself. But I bite it down.
‘So you’ve not heard from him?’ she demands, from where she’s thrown herself into Serafina’s rocking chair – or rather, the perfect replica of it that Pierre made for us.
She’s gripping a quilted cushion like she wants to rip its feathery guts out.
‘He turned up in our lives then disappeared again? How fucking dare he?’
I want to explain that’s how the world works, for witches.
We don’t get to play happy families – the law’s too cautious of us to allow that to happen.
If two witches cohab, one has to be bound, remember?
But I don’t, because she’s right. Lachlan showed up in our lives.
Made himself a part of how Harper understands herself, her magic, and the world. Then disappeared again.
‘Am I not worth knowing?’ our daughter asks, voice gone small, and suddenly my anger at her father flares like an unwatched cauldron fire. Indeed, how fucking dare he not maintain contact with her?
The wards chime yet again, and I’m so at the end of my tether as I go answer I don’t bother checking the camera. Which is how I open up to two federal agents, one male and one female.
‘Ms Fenn? We’ve come to accompany you and your daughter to Registration.’
Dread trickles in my veins like hemlock. Registration? The letter only arrived a few hours ago. I haven’t even had a chance to discuss with Harper the fact that she’s required to attend too, and how we deal with that. Co-operation or – what, exactly?
‘There must be a mistake,’ I say. ‘The letter was only delivered this morning and it said I’d receive a summons.’
‘We are the summons,’ says the female fed, brightly. Her male colleague looms grimly behind. He’s doubtless there for when the smiles don’t work. ‘All witches are judged a flight risk, so once delivery has confirmed your presence – and now we know your daughter is here, too … how efficient!’
‘Mom?’ Harper says uncertainly at my back.
I curse myself for not having sat her down for this discussion the minute we knew Sandra Ortiz’s hideous Bill had passed. I can’t hex these cops – resisting a summons will result in felony charges, the letter said. So I do the next best thing I can.
‘Run!’ I yell at my daughter.
But the burly officer is already shouldering past me.