Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
The man who spoke stands in the center of the stone circle—tall, with sharp features and those piercing cyan blue eyes. Despite what happened with him last night at the Halloween party, I’m not overtly afraid.
I’m not an idiot—wariness definitely coils in my chest—but I’m not afraid.
Yet.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Sebastian.” He steps closer, moonlight illuminating his unnervingly handsome face. “I was a friend and colleague of your mother.”
“A witch?”
His expression softens slightly. “Yes.”
I glance back at the house. It’s too bright here and dark there to see him, but I know Asher is watching and likely losing his shit. I give him a thumbs-up and make a mental note to stay a good distance from Sebastian or Asher is going to have a heart attack.
“A friend of my mother’s, so do you know what happened to my parents? The neighbor said they blew themselves up.”
Sebastian’s jaw tightens. “Zoe Hallowind blew herself up? No. That’s bullshit.
I have no idea what story was circulated by the local coven to appease the nocana folks, but that’s not what happened.
Your mother and I were working together on an incredibly important magical problem. Unfortunately, things went badly.”
Badly. My heart aches at how inadequate that word feels in light of everything I lost that night. “What kind of problem?”
“The kind that threatens everything in both the supernatural and the non-arcana realms.” He runs his hand along one of the stones. “As the problem worsened, the two of us grew more desperate. In the end, we tried something dangerous. Unfortunately, she was killed in the process.”
My chest constricts. “How?”
“We were trying to seal a massive rift in the veil between realms to protect the souls of the dead from being taken…” He waves a hand between us.
“It’s a very long and involved story. Just know your mother was an exceptional spirit witch, and she was the only one who stepped up to help me.
Things went badly, and you lost your family.
I will be forever sorry for that. It’s why I sought you out, to try to make amends. ”
“How did you find me?”
“On the eve of Samhain, the magical world is at its most powerful. That power allows certain spells to work well beyond their normal reach. I’ve searched for you each year since your coven exiled you.”
“Exiled me? What the hell did I do?”
“Nothing. It’s what they feared you would do. You are a spirit witch, like your mother. Of all the magical affinities, it is one of the rarest. What your mother and I did to safeguard the world was dangerous, as I mentioned, and it was also forbidden.”
My mind trips on that. “And because she broke the rules, they erased me from my life?”
He dips his chin. “Covens can be… opinionated. They blocked your powers and sent you away. Last night, the jolt of energy you felt was me removing the first level of their block. You should start feeling your powers awakening over the next days and weeks. When you’re ready, I’ll remove the next block. ”
“Why not just remove it all now?”
His smile is soft, but the question seems to make him uneasy.
“Think about your magic like water. For years it has been a delicate mist inside your cells. As children, young witches can do simple parlor tricks—call small objects across the room, light a candle with a breath—but at nineteen, it begins to condense. At first, it’s just a few drops of liquid.
Then it’s a trickle building to a burbling stream.
That’s where your sister Violet should be. ”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Violet? That’s her name?”
He nods. “And the youngest is Lily. She will be sixteen now.”
Something inside me slots that information in place—Violet and Lily. I’ll find them. No matter where they are or what they remember, I’ll find them.
“For a year, that stream builds in strength until we turn twenty. Then, our affinities unlock, and our magic takes hold. That stream becomes a powerful flowing river of energy. Magical potential floods our cells and builds in strength. And all the while, we’re learning how to contain it, control it, and if needed… diffuse it.”
I see where he’s going with this, and it’s stealing the breath from my lungs.
“The block the coven put on you was a dam to that river and needs to be deconstructed in stages. It didn’t stop the magical potential.
It only kept it from coming to the foreground of your life.
You’ll be twenty-two next month. Your powers have been dammed up for years, and all that magical energy is fighting to break free. ”
Frustration builds inside me, and I blink against the sting of tears. “What right did they have to do that to me?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know the witches of the Emberwood Coven well. I went to them for help with the rift in the veil, but they refused to help me. Your mother sought me out later to learn more about what I was facing.”
The idea of my mother going against her coven to choose to help this man speaks volumes. “Was it worth it? Did the dangerous thing you tried work?”
Sebastian sighs. “I thought we’d succeeded despite the backlash of magic, but recently, the problem is returning. I was hoping you might help me with that.”
I cross my arms, suddenly cold despite the warm energy from the stones. “I don’t know anything about magic. I just wanted to learn about my life and how I ended up in Kansas alone and with no memory.”
Sebastian’s expression is unreadable. “When your powers start to resurface, the local coven will sense your presence. They’ll send an envoy to bring you in.”
“Will they try to get rid of me again?”
His jaw flexes. “They may try, but they won’t succeed. The release of your powers I enacted can’t be circumvented. The coven will have no choice but to take you in and train you.”
That pisses me off. This is a problem they created. They threw me away like rotten garbage, and I have to accept their help? Surely there are other covens… other mentors who could step in. “Couldn’t you train me?”
Sebastian’s expression darkens. “No, Poppy. My affinity has taken me to dark places. It’s been decades since my magic was pure enough to take on a young witch. You need to be trained and supported by a coven.”
“The same coven that bound my powers and stole my sisters from me?”
“I’m sorry bringing you back puts you in the middle of all this, Poppy, but having a coven is an incredible boon to a witch.
Some members of Emberwood may be flawed, but don’t give up your entire community because of a few righteous or frightened rotten apples.
I truly believe your mother would want you to be here, and she would want you to reclaim your family heritage. ”
“What about my sisters? Have you found them?”
He shakes his head. “I found you because we share like powers. Your sisters don’t have a spirit affinity.
We’ll find them, but for now, focus on training and reclaiming your life.
The coven won’t be happy you’re back, and they’ll be even less happy they can’t bind you or control you because of my interference. Be wary, Poppy. Trust no one.”
The stones pulse brighter around us, as if responding to his words… or warning me. I can’t tell which.
“How do I know I can trust you?” I ask.
He steps back, a smile spreading across his face. “You shouldn’t. Trust is earned. And as hard as I expect the past five years have been for you, I hope that fighting for survival has given you the instincts you’ll need to navigate what comes next.”
Before I can respond, he vanishes.
He doesn’t walk away, but simply disappears in an instant. The stones dim slightly, their blue glow fading to a gentle shimmer.
“Well, hell. Why can’t anything be easy?”
The moment I’m through the glass doors and back in the kitchen, Asher pulls me into his arms and crushes me against his chest. “Are you all right?”
I smack his shoulder blade with a weak hand. “Can’t breathe.”
“Shit, sorry.” Asher eases off the panic a little and pulls me over to the kitchen island. “You talk. I’ll work off some anxiety. I think the house is a stress baker. I have an uncontrollable need to make apple fritters.”
I collapse into one of the kitchen chairs, suddenly drained. “The guy with the eyes is Sebastian, a witch friend of my mother. He told me everything, Ash. About my mom, about why I can’t remember anything, about what’s coming.”
Asher is measuring flour, cracking eggs, chopping apples, and dumping cinnamon, vanilla, and melted butter into a bowl like he’s possessed.
In a way, I suppose he is.
“Lay it on me, baby girl. Start at the beginning.”
As he bakes, I tell him everything—about my blocked magic, the coven’s betrayal, my sisters being sent away, my mother’s death during some magical ritual gone wrong. With each detail, Asher’s expression grows darker.
“So let me get this straight.” He finishes covering each of the dropped dough balls with icing sugar and slides the baking pan onto the middle rack of the oven.
“Either this Sebastian dude is a lying psychopath who murdered your mom and is manipulating you, or he’s telling the truth, and the local witch mafia is going to come for you once your powers kick in. ”
“That’s about the size of it.”
He runs his hands through his shaggy blond hair. “Both of those options suck.”
“Tell me about it.”
Asher leans forward, his expression serious. “We could leave… like, now. Pack up whatever we can carry and get the hell out of Dodge. Maybe we can find another coven—one that doesn’t have a grudge against your family. Let them help you with the magic stuff.”
I get where he’s coming from, because I had the same thought. I also decided against that as an option. “No.”
“Hear me out—”
“I love you, but no, I’m not leaving.” I stand and pace to the window that overlooks the forgotten garden.
“For the first time in five years, I’m somewhere that feels right.
This house knows me. My mother’s energy is here.
My family’s history is within these walls.
Hell, I saw the ghost of one of my ancestors in the woods an hour ago. ”
“Baby girl, your family’s history might also get you killed.”
I turn back to face him. “Maybe. But running away won’t bring back my memories or help me find my sisters. It won’t tell me who I really am or what happened to my parents. I need to know, Asher. I need to understand what I lost.”
He studies my face for a long moment, then sighs. “Okay, we’ll stay, but we need to be smart. No charging headfirst into whatever magical politics are waiting for us. You need to play innocent and get control of your powers. We play our cards close to the vest.”
Relief floods through me. “Agreed. We’ll gather as much information as we can and unravel this mystery ourselves. Margaret said the woman who runs the town newsletter has a booth at the local diner—Biscuits and Banter. We’ll go tomorrow.”
“Assuming the house lets us leave.” Asher pulls on an oven mitt and pulls out a pan of golden-brown apple fritters.
“I don’t think that will be a problem. Now that we’re invested in staying, we need to get a feel for the town, and figure out who we can trust. The house won’t stop us. It wants us to succeed. It was only being protective before.”
Asher slides his decadent donuts off the pan and puts them on a plate, yipping as he burns his fingers. It’s way too soon to touch them. They’re too hot, so they crumble and flop. “Dig in.”
I squeal as my fingers burn as I grab one. “Maybe we should wait.”
Asher scoffs. “Nah, strategic thinking requires proper nutrition. It’s science. Burning off our fingerprints is an acceptable side effect. Besides, as long as we’re together and there are sweet treats to be had, all is right in the world.”
I chuckle and bend toward the plate, biting a chunk off my fritter and laughing as it burns my tongue. “Yeah, it is.”