Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The smell of cinnamon and butter pulls me from sleep. I blink at the ceiling of my childhood bedroom, stretching languidly before realizing the sun is already high. It’s late morning, at least.
Rolling over, I’m surprised to see it’s almost eleven. Yeah, wow, no wonder my stomach is threatening a mutiny.
Voices drift upstairs through the elaborate iron grates on the floor. Asher’s laugh is bright and unguarded, followed by Rowan’s lower, teasing response.
I swing my legs out of bed, and head down the hall.
The magic of the house hums beneath my feet, content and alive. It’s been in a good mood for days now, peaceful and settled. And as strange as it might sound, feeling its welcome has gone a long way in rooting me in all things.
In my ancestral magic.
In the town I grew up with.
In the legacy of being an Emberwood Elite.
It’s mine and always been mine. My blood sings with the same power that built these walls, that carved those standing stones, that wove protection and love and intention into every corner of this place.
They may have sent me away, but no one can ever take that away from me.
I run my hand down the silky banister and feel nothing but the steady thrum of magic the house offers me.
Since we sealed the veil at the festival, the ley lines have stopped thrashing. The tears Sebastian spent months and even years patching have knitted themselves closed without incident. The rifts between worlds hold firm and are knitting together stronger everyday.
It should feel like a victory.
Instead, it feels like the calm before a storm.
Because the reason nothing is trying to break through anymore is simple: whatever was trying to get out already succeeded.
Tharuzel is free. He hasn’t made his presence known yet, but we all know he’s here, gathering strength, readying for whatever he has planned.
I push the thought away and head downstairs.
The kitchen is chaotic in the best possible way. Nobuddy and Somebuddy spot me the second I round the corner and launch themselves at my ankles, yipping and spinning in frantic circles. I crouch, laughing as they lick my hands and bounce on their tiny paws.
“Morning, trouble twins,” I murmur, scratching behind their ears.
When I straighten, I find Asher and Rowan both frozen mid-motion, staring at me.
Asher’s got a whisk in one hand, a bowl of what looks like pancake batter in the other. Rowan’s leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee halfway to her lips. Neither of them blinks.
“What?” I glance down at myself, then reach up to touch my hair. “Do I have bedhead? Drool on my face?”
I try to smooth it down, fingers catching on tangles, but they’re still staring.
Asher sets the bowl down carefully. “Poppy.”
“What?”
He crosses the kitchen and takes my hand, tugging me toward the living room. “You need to see this.”
My stomach flips. “See what?”
He doesn’t answer, just steers me to the antique mirror hanging above the mantel. I catch sight of my reflection and freeze.
My hair...
My eyes…
Both are the same impossible, electric blue as my magic. Not a streak. Not a tint. They are vibrant, glowing, like I’ve been dunked in starlight and pulled back out humming with power.
I touch my face, watching the girl in the mirror do the same. Her eyes are wide, shocked, but underneath the surprise is something else.
Recognition.
This is what happens to spirit witches when they connect fully with the power of their affinity. I knew it could happen. Mom and Sebastian both have eyes this color… but not the hair.
What does that mean?
“Holy shit,” I whisper.
Asher grins. “You look like a superhero.”
“I look like a cartoon character.”
“A hot cartoon character,” Asher agrees. “Maybe Sailor Moon’s hot cousin.”
Rowan laughs, smirking. “More like a very ethereal daughter of the Goddess Mother who inspired a next-gen supernatural cabal to kick ass and take names.”
I laugh, but it comes out shaky. My fingers trail through the blue strands and, yeah, it’ll take some getting used to.
But it’s also... kind of incredible.
It’s a rite of passage. Proof that I’ve survived everything thrown at me and come out the other side stronger.
It’s a little overwhelming when I realize how far we’ve come in less than two months. Well, overwhelming for me. Asher is thriving within the chaos.
There is so much coming at us from all sides but he’s rocking our new reality: wrapping up our lives in Wichita, hitting it off with Orion in the best way, being the man of Hallowind House, taking care of the details while I’m swept away and spun around in the eddies of my magical life trying to figure things out.
And there’s still so much to figure out.
My sisters are missing. I’m in the infancy of understanding my affinity.
I’m blood-bound to a demon lord who is likely free from the confines of the Hell Realm.
And where the hell is S’Nark? I thought we’d come to a place where I could count on him if I needed him.
And then there’s Wylder and that kiss…
He said we’d circle back around to talking about it, but since he found out about the contract with Tharuzel, he’s barely been able to look at me.
Whatever. I’m taking things one hurdle at a time and keeping the faith that everything happens for a reason.
“Where’s my mom?” I ask, turning away from the mirror.
Rowan tilts her head toward the hallway. “In her workroom.”
“Do I have time to go check in with her?”
Asher waves the whisk. “You’re good. Sebastian called a Justice League meeting for this afternoon, and the house is making me cook enough food to feed a small army. Take your time. The tea biscuits just went in.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I’ll take ‘Things you never thought your bestie would say, for a thousand, Alex.’”
I shoot him a grateful smile and slip out of the room, the old, worn floorboards warm beneath my bare feet. The grateful energy of the house follows me as I make my way to the green door carved with the tree of life.
Inside, the workroom is quiet.
Candles flicker along the shelves, casting soft shadows over rows of jars and bundles of dried herbs. The scent of sage mixed with lavender wraps around me, filling me with strength for the day ahead.
Mom sits at the harvest table, her ghostly form more solid with every passing day. She doesn’t seem to notice me right away, her attention caught somewhere in the mid-distance across the room. Her hands rest on two wooden boxes, beautifully carved and inlaid with silver…
The Wiccan starter kits she prepared for my sisters’ coming of age celebration before everything fell apart.
Violet and Lily.
My thoughts have been consumed by them since I first returned and learned I have younger sisters.
I can’t imagine what Mom is going through, knowing that her girls are out there, maybe with no memory of our family, maybe being manipulated by whatever Laurel and the elders of the Emberwood coven dreamed up for them.
She doesn’t look up when I enter. Her gaze stays fixed on the boxes, her expression distant and heartbroken.
“Mom?”
She startles, her form flickering for a moment as she turns toward me. Then she sees my eyes, my hair, and her breath catches. “Oh, Poppy.”
I touch a strand self-consciously. “I know. It’s a lot.”
She rises, crossing the room in three graceful strides. Her hands are cool as she cups my face in her ghostly hands. The touch is gentle, barely there, but I feel it all the same. “It’s a blessing from the Goddess. You’re beautiful. You’re radiant.”
Tears prick my eyes. “You think so?”
“I know so.” Her voice breaks as her bright blue eyes tear up. “I’m so proud of you, petal. You’ve handled everything with such grace, such strength. I never imagined you’d have to carry this much, this soon, but you’ve risen to it. You’ve become exactly who you were always meant to be.”
I swallow hard, blinking back the tears. “I’m going to find them, Mom. Violet and Lily. I don’t care how long it takes or what I have to do. I’ll bring them home.”
Her smile is soft, sad, and impossibly loving. She pulls me into a hug, and I wrap my arms around her, thankful my spirit affinity allows me to interact with her spectral form. “I know you will.”
When Wylder and I confronted Laurel about where my sisters are, she denied knowing anything about it. She insists that unlike my situation, Lily and Violet were simply wiped of their memories to give them a chance at a new life, and were taken away by the human authorities.
She swears the coven only kept tabs on me because of the dangers of my spirit affinity.
Which, of course, is bullshit.
If they’ve only been wiped of their memories, what happened when their powers unlocked at sixteen and Violet’s affinity manifested at nineteen?
And if Laurel did have their powers bound, she’d need to have someone reinforcing the binding on them too.
Just how busy was Dr. Anders?
However I look at it, I’m sure they know exactly where my sisters are.
Laurel and the Emberwood Elders Council can stonewall us and lie all they want. That won’t keep us from finding my sisters and bringing them home.
Mom and I stand there for a moment, just breathing in the quiet, letting the weight of everything settle between us. Then she eases back and glances toward the boxes on the table, her expression tightening.
“Eliza is coming over for lunch,” she says. “Declan and Vale have been using their positions in the human world to track them down. The moment they have a direction, she’ll send out her best trackers.”
“That’s amazing.” I take her hand and squeeze her fingers. “They’ll be home soon. I’m sure of it.”
She nods, brushing a ghostly hand through my hair, and this time when she smiles, it reaches her eyes. “Of course they will. Now, let’s go see what culinary masterpiece Asher is creating in my kitchen.”
I laugh, linking my arm through hers.
We might not have everything figured out, but with the support of our ancestral power, the guidance of the Goddess Mother, and the friends we have behind us, we’ll get there.
Just wait and see.