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The Uprising

Moonlight Wolves | Book 3

Jasmine B. Waters

Contents

The Uprising

Extras

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The Uprising

Chapter 1

Britta was late meeting with her alpha, and it was all Grant’s fault. Well, not technically. Technically, it was Britta’s fault because it took her almost an hour to get ready, simply because she couldn’t figure out what she wanted to wear or how she wanted to style her hair. Which was absolutely crazy. She couldn’t figure out why she was doing this – she was just meeting with her alpha, after all. But then, it hit her like a train that didn’t even attempt to slow down before impact.

She was getting ready and trying to look all cute for one person: Grant.

Now, as Britta walked into the gym where she was going to meet both her alpha, Hann, and his next in line, Kato, she cursed at herself. She wasn’t even looking crazy amazing, yet she took so long to get ready.

As she opened the doors to the gym where all shifters seemed to be lately, she caught a reflection of herself in one of the floor length mirrors by the entrance. She was wearing workout clothes, and she was ashamed to admit that it took her almost an hour to decide on these. Her yoga pants were tight and fit nicely around her curvy body, while her black tank top was loosely fitted and cut open on the sides so that one could see her skin and black sports bra that she wore underneath it. Britta never left her apartment in any other color than black, even though her mother desperately wanted her to wear color every now and then.

To finish off her all black look, Britta tied her hair up in her signature high pony tail, her long hair still swishing to her lower back even when tied up. Her blue eyes seemed to pierce through everyone’s soul as she smiled and waved to the shifters as she walked through the gym. They’d better, at least – she took forever doing her makeup and making sure it was flattering to her eyes, what she considered her best asset.

As Britta walked down the stairs to where the main gym materials and machines were held, she looked around in pride. The place was filled with her pack, all who were training and trying to better themselves in these trying times.

After all the recent attacks that have been occurring both in her pack and around the world against shifters, Hann, the alpha of the Moonlight Pack, decided that they needed a place where people could properly train and learn from their fellow shifters. Britta and Grant, as well as their friends Kato, Annie, and Lukas, all trained together recently in the forest when things began to get tough with Kato’s human lover, Thea.

Thea was a human who knew too much – in Elder standards, at least. After their first mission to take Thea away and wipe her memory of everything shifter related failed, a small group of Elders came back to town with vengeance on their mind. They wanted things to go back to how it used to be, and they were angry that rules and regulations weren’t being enforced like they should’ve. They wanted to deal with this Thea “problem”, and they didn’t care if that resulted in violence.

When these Elders finally showed up, everyone thought that it was going to be a showdown between the Elders and the pack. But when the whole entire pack showed up to defend Thea with other Elders in tow, things changed. The Elders revealed that they had been split within, with one side wanting stricter rules being enforced, while another side, led by the friendly Elder Michael, wanted to focus on more important things – and humans falling in love with shifters and vice versa just wasn’t as important to many people as it used to be.

Since the whole battle almost took place, things have changed within the pack. While they’ve all accepted Thea with open arms, they’ve decided that they need to prepare for things that could come their way. Because the Elders aren’t the only problems on the horizon.

Uprisings within the shifter community of rogues – shifters that have been banished from society because they had broken the rules (almost all cases are because of murder) – had become an almost daily thing, and the Moonlight Pack had dealt with these issues in the past. A shifter named Kaiser had come to town on a brutal, merciless quest to enact revenge on the pack’s alpha, Hann, for killing his father. Of course, Hann killed his father years ago in order to protect his human wife and newborn baby – but Kaiser didn’t care. He thought that Hann got away with cold blooded murder, and he wanted revenge.

Kaiser got a lot of rogues to join together and slaughter tiny villages around Europe, but when he finally came to Maine, the Moonlight Pack prevailed and took care of every single murderer – including Kaiser.

Kaiser’s death didn’t mean the rogue uprisings stopped. Not at all. In fact, his death seemed to spark something inside of these rogues’ chests, and now they were banding together like never before. This worried the Elders and every pack, of course, but they had yet to figure out how to stop it. What with the Elders in disarray and an almost all out civil war for the past few weeks, they hadn’t had enough time to really focus on anything else.

But now, things had calmed down… slightly. The Moonlight Pack had created a gym for their shifters to come and train in case the worst happened. The gym itself had seemed to become a form of a fight club, though the shifters all loved each other and never wanted to hurt anyone. They just wanted to be prepared so that they didn’t lose any shifters like they did when Kaiser showed up with rage and murder in his blood.

Britta sighed as she thought of all the things her pack had been through in the past few months. She couldn’t believe they had all stuck together through thick and thin, and she was proud of her pack. She knew that they would prevail, because they all trusted each other. Other packs didn’t have the luxury of love and trust. Lukas’s old pack was full of treason and murder, so trust wasn’t exactly anywhere to be found.

Britta walked downstairs and smiled at a few shifters who caught her eye. The moonlight shone through the floor length glass windows that covered the gym. When she caught Grant’s eye, she tried to fight the smile that crept onto her face. He was currently boxing, with his shirt off, sweat glistening his toned chest. The whole gym was filled with some shifters in human form, others in wolf form, and Britta found herself surprised that Grant was in his human form. He normally liked to shift into his wolf form and train, but there he was, fit as a fiddle and punching that punching bag like it said something bad about his mother.

Britta wanted to swoon like those girls in the old movies, though she braced herself and had a spat in her head. She would not let Grant see her affected by his shirtless, toned chest. She was in control here. And if Grant figured out that she thought he was something, he would never let her hear the end of it.

Grant, needless to say, could be a dick.

When Grant nodded his head at her and inclined it in his direction, motioning that she should come over the where he was, Britta obliged. She really didn’t put up that much of a fight, if she was being honest with herself. As she walked over, she made sure to put a little confident bounce in her step, making her long black hair swish behind her from where it was kept in a high ponytail.

“Weren’t you just here?” Grant asked her as she walked over, sweat dripping off of his shirtless chest. She almost seemed to brace herself. She didn’t let herself glance at his body, only caught his eyes and acted nonchalant, as if she wasn’t being affected at all.

“Yeah, but Kato wanted to meet with me,” she informed him, crossing her arms and looking around as if nothing bothered her at all. “He’s meeting with Hann and wanted me in on the meeting.”

Ever since everything happened with Thea a few weeks ago, Kato had asked Britta to join him as his own personal bodyguard. Kato, who was next in line to become the next alpha after Hann, and who was Hann’s first choice since his own daughter didn’t want the gig, needed protection at all times. While currently she wasn’t his bodyguard 24/7 like she would be when he became the alpha, Kato still liked having her around and making sure she was informed about everything that was going on.

And she liked her new role. It finally gave her life a purpose. Her whole life had been just her floating around, looking for a mate in all the wrong places. Now, with friends like Kato and Thea, and a steady job that she could actually excel in, things were starting to look up for Britta.

If only she could get Grant out of her head.

“Wanna run tonight?” Grant asked as he grabbed a towel that was thrown on the ground next to him. He started to wipe the sweat off of him, and Britta became slightly proud of herself that she was able to keep such a straight face.

Grant and Britta had been running together through the forest almost every night in their wolf forms for the last few weeks. What started as a spur of the moment thing turned into a nightly ritual, which helped cement their friendship. Britta and Grant sparred with each other and consistently made fun of each other before. They still are constantly at each other’s throats, but Britta knew that something had changed between them. Now, even though they always fought, she knew that Grant would always have her back, and she would always have his.

“I don’t know, it depends how long this thing takes,” she said, nodding to the back room where everyone seemed to meet during important crises now. Before, it was the bar. Now, it’s the gym. At least they’ve upgraded slightly. Britta felt like they needed to invest and buy a building just for crises or when the next crazy murderer shifter decides to come to town.

Britta nodded at him and started walking away, giving him a slight smile as she turned to go. She saw two shifters, in their wolf form, on one of the mats training. They were fighting each other, stopping slightly every now and then when one of them got the upper hand and was able to pin down the other wolf. Britta could slightly hear them talking in her head, as shifters have the ability to communicate through their brain waves when they are in their wolf form. They can also hear each other and communicate when they are still in their human form, though it is harder to do and it’s just easier to talk regularly then.

On the other side of the little walkway Britta was on, she saw two members of her pack fighting in their human form, stopping to talk to each other and tell each other what they were doing wrong. As Britta watched all of her pack members training together, she felt pride bloom in her chest. The next time some evil shifter came around and tried to mess with them, they would be sorely mistaken.

Britta didn’t want to go in the back and wait for Kato and Hann to eventually show up. She wanted to train. She wanted to fight. So, she turned back around and walked briskly to where she left Grant, who was back to fighting against the punching bag. With a smirk on her face, she quickly picked up her pace to where she sprinted full force at Grant, expecting to tackle him to the ground and catch him by surprise.

She didn’t expect Grant to turn around less than a second before she hit him, using his own force to knock her to the ground, his body crushing her to the soft mat beneath her back. She felt the wind get knocked out of her, and when she was able to regain her composure, she wanted to slap the smirk off of Grant’s face.

“Next time, know who you’re trying to attack,” Grant murmured from above her. She struggled to break free of the grasp that he had over her arms, which just made him lean into her more and apply more pressure to her arms, his smirk growing even more. “I’m stronger than you, you know.”

“In your dreams,” she snorted back at him, rolling her eyes. If he was anyone else, she would’ve already had him pinned to the ground underneath him. But he did something to her, and she hated the way her bones seemed to turn to mush when he touched her. And now that his whole body was touching every ounce of her body, she didn’t know what she was supposed to do. All she could do was try to bring her sarcasm into play, but even her witty banter wasn’t up to the par it normally was.

And she couldn’t help but notice his wasn’t either. Maybe she wasn’t the only one affected by their close encounter.

Britta felt her heart pick up speed in her chest, and she prayed that Grant couldn’t tell. Her mind was running at quick speed as she tried to think of something, anything, to say. Instead, she just laid there and stared up at him, hating the way she, a strong and independent woman, turned to must the second this guy touched her. And it sure as hell didn’t help that he was touching almost every part of her.

“If you hurt my bodyguard, I’ll be upset,” they heard someone say as a group of people walked by them. Grant laughed, the spell broken, and got off of Britta, reaching down to help her up. She attempted to save face and stuck her tongue out at him. Mature.

Britta saw Kato and Hann, the next alpha and the current alpha, walking past them, both of them wearing a knowing smirk on their faces.

“I’ll see you later,” Britta shoved him aside, both of them smiling slightly as Britta jogged to catch up with the alphas. She smiled at Lukas, a newer wolf and former rogue, as she passed him. When she looked back, she saw Lukas and Grant talking to each other, both of them laying down on the mats.

Britta smiled to herself. Grant and Lukas didn’t exactly get along when Lukas showed up, a rogue with dire warnings of Kaiser – and it was all Grant’s fault. Grant went so far as to try to beat up Lukas and send him a warning when he first got to Maine, something that Annie, Hann’s daughter (who was half human, half shifter) and Lukas’s current mate, put an end to. Since that day, Grant has been trying to atone for what he tried to do. When Lukas saved both Annie and Hann when Kaiser tried to kill both of them, the Elders and the pack accepted as one of their own, letting him shed his rogue status and join the ranks of shifters again.

Grant never really talked about it, but Britta knew he felt bad. The loss of shifter life by the hands of Kato and his friends cut deep, and they were still missed on a daily basis. It was hard when the pack lost someone, as they were all so deeply intertwined. Grant realized that things could’ve been much worse had Lukas not been there. So, Grant started to shape up. Now, him and Lukas were incredibly good friends, something that no one saw coming.

Britta couldn’t help but think that maybe there was hope for everyone. If Grant, who used to be one of the most closed minded and annoying people she knew, could change, then maybe the world could become a different place.

After all, if someone told Britta back then that she would ever have a crush on a guy like Grant, she would’ve scoffed and rolled her eyes. But now… Well, now things had changed.

And she couldn’t get Grant out of her head.

CHAPTER 2

“When are you guys just going to admit that you both are head over heels in love with each other?” Lukas asked Grant as they watched Britta walk away with Kato and Hann. Grant rolled his eyes, though he found himself watching Britta’s toned backside as she walked away from him. Those yoga pants fit her in all the right places.

“You’re so dramatic,” Grant laughed, though he couldn’t ignore the way his heart still beat in his chest in overtime. He wished he could say it was from him working out with the punching bag. It wasn’t true, though – it was all because of Britta.

“What?” Lukas looked over at him, a bewildered look on his face as he smiled and dove into the teasing. “You at least have to admit that you two are in love with each other.” Lukas laughed again after he drawled out the words “in love”. All Grant could do was shake his head, fighting the smirk on his face that had the potential to become an all-out smile. If Lukas saw that, he would never hear the end of it.

Grant truly didn’t know how he felt about Britta. Did he think she was sexy as hell? Hands down. And seeing her fight and in action just enhanced that sexual desire that he wanted to get rid of. Because he knew that Britta would shoot him down if he even so much as flirted with her in a serious way.

But, during times of stress and new stories of uprisings happening closer to home, Grant has found that his first thoughts go straight to Britta. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to protect her, even though he had no reason to even act or think like that. He knew that Britta could protect herself. And he knew that she was going easy on him earlier when he had her pinned to the ground. If she wanted to, she could’ve kicked his ass in the matter of a few seconds. And it’s not like Grant was weak by any means – Britta was just that deadly and strong when she needed to be.

Grant didn’t know where his true feelings lay with Britta, but he knew that he didn’t want to lose her as a friend. He began to rely on their nightly runs together as a way to blow off steam and remind himself that there was more to this world than his incessant anger. Because boy, was Grant angry.

Ever since Kaiser rolled into town with one purpose, and one purpose only, Grant’s world had flipped upside down. Because as Kaiser brought death to the town, he also brought death to Grant’s immediate world. That fateful night, Grant lost his mother at the hands of a rogue. Grant killed that rogue a few seconds after his mother perished, seeing only red. He wanted to make the rogue pay. He wanted there to be torture, to make the rogue feel what he was feeling as he saw his mother take her last breath as the rogue ripped her apart.

Grant had been through a lot since then. He mourned, and he grieved. Hann came to visit him, helping him through the process. And he thought that maybe he would be able to recover. His mother was the sweetest, kindest shifter he knew, and she raised him to be everything his father, a cold-hearted brute that left years ago, wasn’t. He knew that his mother would’ve wanted him to grieve while also put his life back together. So he was trying to do her right and fix himself up.

Grant knew what it was like to lose someone he loved. And he didn’t want to even think about how he felt around Britta, because the fear of watching her being torn apart meant that he would fall apart completely. He wanted to protect her from everything already, and he knew that if he let his feelings grow, he would fall head first for her.

“Britta’s too good for me, you know,” Grant told Lukas after they both sat in silence for a second. It was a true statement. Britta was too good for a lot of people, even though she didn’t think so – and her string of men proved that she didn’t think so.

“Isn’t that the truth,” Lukas joked with him, shoving his shoulder lightly. Grant smiled back at him. “But why don’t we let Britta make that decision. Who knows – she might like having some shithead with her instead of some great person. That way, she looks like the saint in the relationship.”

“No matter what, she’d be the saint in the relationship,” Grant joked back, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out. He hadn’t worked out hard in his human form for a while, as he always trained and practiced when he was in his wolf form. He could feel his muscles began to tense up, and he mentally noted that he needed to practice in both forms so that he could be ready for anything, at any time. “And even if I was in love with her, which I’m not, I would never put her through the hell that dating me would be.”

Grant thought he himself sounded a bit like a high school teenager but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t put Britta through that, even if he did have a high sexual desire for her.

“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit,” Lukas told him. “You’re not the evil being that you think you are, you know.”

“Yeah, but I’m not exactly a great person, am I?” Grant told him, shrugging as if it didn’t bother him. “I mean, you know that first hand.”

Lukas sighed, both of them knowing exactly what Grant was referring to. The incident when Lukas first came to town and was still a rogue. Grant hated thinking back to that night, as he felt like he had changed since that moment. He didn’t hang out with those guys anymore, as he realized after his mother died that all they wanted to do was start fights and rumors. He didn’t need that in his life anymore.

“You’ve changed since then, Grant,” Lukas told him. “Do you think I would be sitting here talking to you on my own free will if you hadn’t? You were affected by what happened with Kaiser first hand, and I’m sorry about that. But from that moment on, it was like you became someone different – someone better. You’re making up for the things that you did, and I’ll be there for you every step of the way. Because you’re not just some pack member to me, man. You’re a friend. And I really never thought I’d ever say that to the guy that tried to kick my ass my first night here.”

“Sorry about that,” Grant winced, though he felt slightly better from the ego boost he knew Lukas was trying to give him.

“Don’t mention it,” Lukas laughed. “We’ve both changed since then. For the better.”

“I’d like to think so,” Grant added. “But that still doesn’t mean that I’m good enough for Britta.”

“Is this you admitting that you’re in love with her?”

Grant threw his sweaty towel at him, laughing the whole time.

CHAPTER 3

“There’s my favorite bad ass,” Thea yelled as Britta walked into the mansion that Thea and her best friend, Annie, shared. Britta had become a regular guest at the house since her and Thea became close friends after the whole Elder situation. Now, Britta didn’t know what she’d do without the little human she’d grown to love.

“Kato said he’s gonna be working with Hann until eight, but he’ll bring you some food home to make up for him being gone all day,” Britta informed her as she flopped down on the couch. Britta had just left from the little meeting with Kato and Hann. Britta sat with Ross, Hann’s own bodyguard, towards the back of the room, both of them listening silently while playing game after game of tic tac toe on post it notes as the two powerful shifters talked.

Britta looked up at Thea, who was currently standing on a chair as she tried to reach a book that was on one of the high book shelves the girls had littered throughout the whole house. Annie, the youngest and hippest librarian you’d ever meet, was the one to blame for the incessant about of books.

“He better bring me food,” Thea grumbled as she finally found the book she was looking for, jumping down and hopping over to where Britta was splayed out on one of the big couches. Britta smiled as she sat down next to her. Everyone though Thea looked like a little fairy, with her light blonde hair and icy blue eyes, and when she hopped around like she currently was, Britta couldn’t help but see the comparison.

“So, I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to find myself a hubby,” Britta joked with her, half serious. “Hanging out with you and Kato, and Annie and Lukas, is making me feel single and alone.”

“If you would just let me be your wing woman, you wouldn’t be having this problem,” Thea sang to her, hiding a huge smile as she bit her lip. Britta laughed and shook her head. Ever since Thea and Britta had become friends, Thea had been determined to find Britta a good man. However, Britta and Thea had completely different taste in men, and Britta knew that Thea would set her up with someone that Britta had no chemistry with.

Britta didn’t like those type of men that were looking for a damsel in distress or wanted to protect their lady at all costs. She could protect herself, thank you very much. And she could find her own man – she didn’t need Thea’s help.

Though, she was single and alone currently, so maybe she needed to change something about the way she was going about this whole dating thing. All guys seemed to want her for was one thing: sex.

And she wanted a mate.

“Hey girlies,” Annie called to them as she walked through the front door. She reappeared in the living room entry way a few seconds later, dressed in her regular librarian meets punk rocker clothing attire that Britta had grown fond of. Annie flopped on the couch across from them, her legs dangling from the edge of the love seat. “You’re never gonna guess what my father just told me.”

“I might know,” Britta told her, though she was racking her brain to figure out what exactly Hann said that would cause Annie to make a statement like that. “I just saw him. Kato and Hann had a little meeting to hash things out and go over some new uprising threats.”

The uprising threats had become a normal thing, sadly. They no longer spiked fear and resentment in the pack. Now, they were just something the shifters had to live with. It was crazy to think of how everything had changed so drastically in just a matter of a few weeks.

“This had to do with the other alphas,” Annie replied, sitting up slightly. Britta scrunched her face up in confusion. Even though her and Ross had played tic tac toe the whole time, she would’ve remembered if they mentioned other alphas.

“Wait, maybe I don’t know this,” Britta told her.

“Well, I don’t know it at all, so spill,” Thea laughed, ever hungry for pack gossip. Even before her and Kato got together, she always loved hearing about all the pack drama.

Annie laughed and then launched into the story that he father told her. “I guess there are a bunch of shifters and alphas that are going to come into town and start training at the gym. My dad wants to make it more of a training facility for a lot of shifters to learn at. And because the Moonlight Pack is one of the strongest packs around, if not the strongest in America, people around the nation, and the world, are looking to what we’re doing and they want to join. Especially the smaller packs that don’t have as much strength and have the ability to travel here to Maine to learn and become stronger together.”

“That’s crazy,” Britta breathed. She couldn’t believe Hann hadn’t told Kato and her. Maybe he just learned about what the other packs wanted to do and didn’t have the time to inform her. “There’s going to be so many shifters everywhere.”

Britta had met other shifters from other packs, of course, but she had never been around a ton of other packs like she was about to. Other shifters and packs tended to make her nervous. She immediately looked over to Thea, worried that some of the foreign shifters would give her problems, and she saw the worried look on Thea’s face. She also saw the worried look on Annie’s face as Britta remembered all the chaos and hate Kaiser had thrown at Annie simply because she was a halfie – half human, half shifter.

“We’re all going to stand our ground,” Britta said, trying to reassure her friends. “If one of them steps out of their place, if one of them even glances at one of you, or one of us, wrong, they will be ridiculed. Trust me. I’ll do it myself.”

“My dad said that he wouldn’t let anything happen, either,” Annie told her, smiling big. Britta knew that she was sending love through her smile to Britta for what she said. “He said that he already sent word to everyone who wanted to come. He said that everyone is welcome to come and join us in our training, and the Moonlight Pack would be more than willing to train and help all and any who come. But he also sent a little message that said, because we are a… special pack, there is no toleration for closemindedness or cruelty towards humans or halfies.”

“Me and Hann will make sure we create a little piece of hell for them if they don’t listen, don’t you worry,” Britta told them, a wicked smile on her face and anger in her eyes. She hated that there were still shifters around that disregarded halfies and humans that mated with shifters. Hell, her own pack wasn’t that forward thinking, and there were still a few shifters here and there that lived back in the day.

But Britta wouldn’t stand for any of her friends, or any of her pack members, feeling horrible because of some rude visitor.

“You know, you’re so sweet when you get all dark and angry,” Thea laughed, pulling Britta towards her on the couch and into a hug. Britta tensed slightly before accepting the bear hug little Thea was giving her. Thea was a hugger. Britta… wasn’t. But she couldn’t help the soft spot Thea had quietly carved into her heart in the last few weeks.

“I do have some good news in all of this,” Annie announced, smiling and looking straight at Britta. Britta couldn’t help the nervous butterflies that started fluttering in her stomach. She hoped that it actually was good news.

“What?” She asked, acting like she was fine and her anxiety wasn’t reacting in the slightest. She broke away from Thea and sat up on the couch, confusion and a bit of excitement in her eyes at the possibilities of what the good news could be.

“My dad said that Michael and some of the other alphas thought it would be cool if there were actual training sessions,” Annie told her. “Like, our pack members will run some classes or become actual trainers to some of the shifters coming in. And guess who my dad recommended first, before anyone else?”

“Who?” Britta squeaked out. It couldn’t possibly be her. No way in hell would Hann, her alpha, pick her to become a teacher. She wasn’t ready for that type of responsibility. She wasn’t even good, or strong, enough to become some type of professional in combat. Was Hann crazy? No, she couldn’t think of her alpha like that.

“You!” Annie exclaimed, a huge smile on her face. “He also talked about Lukas, obviously, and Grant. But he said that out of all three of you, you’re the best teacher. And, you’re smarter than the rest when it comes to technique.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Britta responded normally.

“Don’t say anything and just go kick some ass like the badass you are!” Thea interjected, making all three of the girls laugh. Britta shook her head in embarrassment. She didn’t like all of this attention on her in a positive light. She never had a lot of experience being in a situation like this, and it was like she didn’t know what to do other than sit there and think.

She didn’t know how she felt about the butterflies that were now in her chest.

And she didn’t know how her life had changed so drastically in the last few weeks.

And she didn’t know how she felt about her alpha giving her all the credit in the world. She felt like she didn’t deserve it. But she couldn’t help the smile that lit up her face as she realized that maybe, just maybe, she could actually be something, or someone, important. Someone helpful. Someone that actually had a purpose.

So she made sure to keep that smile on her face for the whole day.

CHAPTER 4

Grant felt like he hadn’t left the gym in weeks. But ever since the complex became a place for shifters to go and train, he found himself there more and more. It was less to train and more to keep his brain from thinking of memories that he didn’t want to think about. If he wasn’t at the gym, he was at the bar where he now worked. And if he wasn’t at the bar or at the gym, he wasn’t doing anything important – and his mind would wander. And he didn’t want to let in those feelings. He didn’t want to remember the pain that he held in his heart.

So, now he was back at the gym and back at the punching bag. He was so focused on his rhythm and keeping his breathing in check that he didn’t even notice Britta until she was right in front of him. He quickly straightened up, surprised that she could sneak up on him so well considering that she failed earlier today. He must’ve been deeper in focus than he thought. At least he wasn’t thinking.

But now that he met Britta’s bright blue eyes, he realized that he stopped thinking of everything all together. And all he found himself thinking of was her.

“What are you doing here?” Grant found himself asking, hating the sharp way he sounded. “I mean… I just didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to, but I was about to go on a run,” she told him, shrugging as if nothing in the world bothered her. “I realized that we never talked about whether we were gonna run together tonight. I didn’t want to piss you off or anything, considering you’re always pissed off.”

“I’m not always pissed off,” Grant laughed at her, exasperated, as walked over to a nearby bench to sit down.

“So,” Britta asked as she followed Grant over to the bench, standing in front of him. “What do you say? You gonna come?”

Grant was stretching his calves when he looked up and saw Britta standing over him. All he could seem to see was those blue eyes of her. He saw them in his dreams. He sat up, noticing the way that she acted like she didn’t care. He knew better, though. If he said no, she would more than likely storm off and give him a cold shoulder. They both liked their nightly runs together, even if both of them would never admit it.

To Grant, these runs were a form of stabilization. And a way to be around Britta more. He couldn’t help the way he felt. When he was with her, he felt… different. Better. No longer in that dark funk that had held him for the past few weeks since Kaiser came with murder in his eyes.

“Okay,” Grant said finally as he looked into Britta’s fierce blue eyes. He couldn’t help the way his blood rushed when she smiled at him. God, the little things she did killed him. And he loved it.

The two walked outside together quickly without saying much, both of them feeling the thrill of shifting into their wolf form after being in their human form all day. Grant watched as Britta walked behind a part of the outside gym building to undress. Grant quickly undressed himself, laying his clothes in a neat pile on an outside bench up against the wall.

Grant braced himself as she shifted, welcoming the tingling sensation that cascaded down his spine and throughout his whole body. He felt his blood bubble with the transformation, and that slight pain that he used to feel was now a prick throughout his body. He didn’t feel it at all. All he felt as his four paws hit the ground was a rush of adrenaline that he always had when he shifted into his wolf form.

Britta ran out in her wolf form, her black coat shining against the moonlight. Grant looked up at the bright starry sky as Britta sidled up next to him, both of them breathing in the night air. Grant’s senses were still adjusting to his new form, though everything was already heightened for him. When he was in his human form, he already had heightened senses. When he shifted into his wolf form, those senses seemed to skyrocket even more.

Britta and Grant began to run together into the thick of the dense woods, both of their eyes adjusting quickly to the dark trees and limbs that suddenly surrounded them. Grant breathed in the woods, welcoming the pine scent. It was like he was walking into the house he grew up in after being away for decades. He loved the forests that surrounded his little town in Maine, and he loved that he now had someone to run with him.

The pack runs together almost every morning, but it’s not as important to him as his run with Britta is. He didn’t know if it was because the moon was out, or if it was because of Britta, but his runs with her were the highlight of his day. And he couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t like they really talked or anything. In fact, they didn’t talk at all. They just ran together throughout the forest for almost an hour, loving how they usually got a lot of the woods to themselves until they ran into another of their pack members. They dodged low hanging branches and vaulted themselves off of stumps, racing and laughing in their heads as they reveled in the moonlight and their youth.

Did Grant find himself relying on these nightly runs more than he wanted to admit? Yes. It was the only time of the day that he could be alone with Britta. And… well, he wanted that more than he would ever truly admit. Even to himself.

CHAPTER 5

Britta was teaching a younger shifter, Liza, how best to defend herself in her human form when she saw them walk in. She felt the whole gym seem to stop as watch as four shifters walked in together. From where Britta and Liza were on the mats, she had a clear view of them. They weren’t from her pack. They were strangers.

Britta straightened up slightly as she took in what seemed to be the leader of the group, though it was obvious he wasn’t an alpha. Alpha’s had a sense about them, and every shifter, no matter what pack they were from, would be able to sense when they were with an alpha. This man was no alpha. But he was gorgeous.

He had dark blonde hair, blue eyes that seem to pierce everyone’s soul as he looked at them, and a smug look on his face that proved he knew that he was hot. Britta felt herself instantly hate him. She hated smug guys that just liked looks. Didn’t they realize there was more to life then whether or not someone was hot?

Even though she immediately had a negative effect as she walked his stroll through with his other shifters, all of them full of tattoos, she couldn’t help herself as she admired his body. This was a sculpted, muscled body. She hated that she admired it, and she cursed at herself for even thinking he was worth her time.

“These are some of the new shifters that have come to train,” Kato told her quietly as he sidled up behind her, walking quietly from where he was running in his human form on a treadmill. “Let’s go say hi and try and be friendly so that our shifters stop acting like they’re going to be attacked.”

Britta nodded and immediately followed him as he started walking to the group who was now by a water fountain. Britta nodded and slightly smiled at Liza, letting her know that she’d be right back before she left. The rest of the gym was still silent, still watching all of the new shifters. Wolves and humans alike were staring at the four, staying quiet and defensive. As Britta walked with Kato to introduce herself, she couldn’t help but notice that some of her pack members were standing with their arms crossed, watching every little thing these new shifters did. She shook her head in disbelief.

When did her pack become so nervous and defensive when other shifters came to town?

Oh, probably when Kaiser first came to town. And then the Elders. Thinking back on all the situations, a lot had happened to her pack. And they had every reason to be standoffish. They didn’t know any of these shifters or what they stood for. A nervous feeling began to grow in Britta’s stomach as she remembered the amount of shifters from around the nation – no, around the world – that said they wanted to come to Maine and train with the Moonlight Pack.

“Hey there,” Kato said as they finally came face to face with the strange four shifters. Britta caught the eye of the blonde, making sure to straighten her spine and put some fierceness in her emotions. She would stand up for her pack and not apologize for the somewhat icy first impression. They had been through a lot, dammit. “You guys must be from the Hollow Lake Pack. I’m Kato, and this is Britta. I’m the second to the current alpha.”

“Finn,” the blonde said, reaching out his hand to shake Kato’s hand, a somewhat smug, somewhat friendly smile on his face. When he reached out his hand to shake Britta’s, she gave him no smile. She stared at him and the others, hoping they could see that they were to be on their best behavior in Maine.

As she looked at the others, two females and another male, she could see some of them bristle under her stare. Good. She always found herself feeling a little bad ass when she made heavily tattooed shifters feel uncomfortable. Anything to boost up her bad ass image.

“Our pack is…,” Kato trailed off, and Britta could tell that he didn’t want to apologize for them either. And they shouldn’t. “We’ve been through a lot. We don’t do well with strangers any more, I’m afraid.”

“And that’s why we’re here,” Finn told him, looking around and nodding at some of the shifters whose eyes he caught. “An attack on one shifter, regardless of what pack they are in, is an attack on all of us. We’re only sorry we couldn’t help out sooner. But now, we’re here. And we’re willing to learn and help you all in any way we can.”

Kato nodded, and even Britta felt herself relax slightly, though she still kept her arms crossed against her chest. And she still found herself watching every little thing these strange shifters did. She was already in bodyguard mode, it seemed.

“That’s good to hear,” Kato replied, nodding again. “I apologize that our alpha, Hann, couldn’t be here, but I’d be glad to show you all around.”

Finn, the defacto leader of the group it seemed, nodded and began to walk with Kato. The shifters in the gym, seeming to accept the little speech that Finn gave, decided to go back to their own training, though Britta saw that they still watched the shifters when they came near where they were working out.

Britta followed the group as Finn and Kato walked together, the other three shifters trailing behind them. Britta walked behind the whole group, where she could watch all of them equally. She didn’t like having her back turned against them, even if they did say that they were here to learn and help them. Words were words – and Britta knew that actions spoke louder.

So, the whole time Kato showed these new shifters around and introduced them to others of the Moonlight Pack, Britta watched them and waited for them to make one wrong move.

Britta was running on the treadmill when Finn walked up to her, that smug smile still on his face. She stopped running and popped her earphones out of her ears, loud rock music instantly growing silent as she took them out. She stopped the treadmill, walking fast until it slowed down completely as Finn leaned up against the treadmill. She hated that smirk.

“Britta, right?” He asked her, leaning towards her. She stared at him, a bit shocked that he would interrupt her workout where she obviously didn’t want to talk to any one – hence the earphones.

“Yeah,” she told him, her voice flat and her face a bit annoyed, a bit inquisitive. She arched an eyebrow at him, wondering what, exactly, he as talking to her for.

“I heard that you were the one to talk to for one on one training,” he told her, dropping his voice a bit and chuckling. Britta, now just annoyed, rolled her eyes got off of the treadmill, slightly brushing his shoulder as she walked over to where she kept her water bottle. She couldn’t help but notice Errol, one of her pack mates, staring at Finn as she talked to her.

“Yeah, I am,” Britta told him, taking a long drink from her water bottle. She couldn’t help but notice the way Finn eyed her neck as she swallowed. “But I’m all booked currently, so you’re gonna have to find another, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, come on,” Finn smirked. “You can’t make an exception for me?”

“No.”

“Are you always this cold to handsome men that come asking you for help?” Britta rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help the smirk that landed on her face. This guy was so over confident and smug, but he laughed as if he knew it. She could handle his laughing – she wouldn’t be able to handle it if he was actually serious and thought that highly of himself.

“No, I’m never like this to handsome men,” she told him, smiling sweetly and trying not to giggle as he barked out a laugh. She should not be acting like this with him, but she couldn’t help it. In the matter of a few seconds, she found herself not caring that he could be a total asshole. She hadn’t been flirted with in a while.

And she was looking for a hubby, after all.

“Well, if your schedule opens up, you will let me know?” He asked her, wincing as though he was expecting another insult his way.

“Maybe,” she drawled, not being able to come up with another zinger.

“And if you’re free for dinner or a drink, maybe you’ll let me know then, too?”

Britta felt her heart quicken slightly, though she kept her face neutral as she set down her water bottle and stared back at Finn, making sure she saw him roll her eyes.

“Maybe,” she settled with.

She instantly felt guilty as her mind turned to Grant. Wait – why should she feel guilty about this? She wasn’t doing anything with Finn. And Grant… well, her and Grant weren’t together, and that was that.

She could do whatever the hell she wanted, with whoever the hell she wanted. And she shouldn’t be feeling guilt towards Grant. All she had towards him was a crush – just one small crush that meant nothing.

But when Grant walked through the gym doors at that second, Britta straightened up and prayed that Finn would walk away, knowing that their conversation was over.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes, and hold you to your word,” Finn told her, smiling and leaning in a bit closer to Britta.

Britta looked over her shoulder and saw Grant speed walking over to her with an indecipherable look on her face.

Her heart did two things. First, it dropped as she realized what he thought he saw. But then, as she realized that he maybe, truly, cared about her, her heart slowly rose from the basement if fell into, lighting up as she realized that Grant was jealous.

And that she could work with.

CHAPTER 6

“Who’s this?” Grant asked immediately as he walked over to where Britta was standing with some guy. And said guy was way too close to Britta for Grant’s liking.

Grant winced slightly as he heard the sharpness of his first question. He didn’t even say hello first. He really needed to get himself together when it came to Britta.

“Why, hello to you, too, Grant,” Britta responded, crossing her arm and looking at him questioningly. Grant couldn’t help but notice that she took a slight step away from the guy, though.

Grant tried to reel in his anger and surprise at the situation that he saw unfolding before his eyes. First off, it looked like Britta was flirting with some guy, and Grant, very obviously, didn’t like that. He regretted how he bombarded them during the conversation, but he couldn’t help the emotions he was feeling. He just hoped that he could salvage the situation and not tip off how he truly felt about Britta. Because telling a girl you like her while accosting another man wasn’t exactly a turn on, he heard.

But this was also a shifter he’d never seen before – this was someone new. He wasn’t a part of the Moonlight Pack, and Grant sure as hell didn’t know how he felt about that. He knew that there were packs around the nation, and some said around the world, that had talked about coming to Maine and learning, while also helping, the Moonlight Pack in this new world the shifters lived in. The uprisings from rogues were increasing, and they had Elders like Gabriel and the death of Kaiser to thank for that.

Grant couldn’t help but think of Kaiser and his friends that he brought to town. As Grant stared at this new shifter, he crossed his arms. And when his mind replayed his mother’s death, he imagined that there was blood all around him, pulling him back to the moment when he realized his life had forever changed.

In a blink of an eye, the images and memories were gone, and he found himself staring into the blue eyes of the unknown shifter. Grant tensed, pissed for more than one reason now.

“Finn,” the shifter said, putting out his hand so that Grant could shake it. Grant looked down, didn’t move his own arms to shake, and just stared back at Finn, his arms still crossed across his chest.

“Don’t be a dick, Grant,” Britta butted in. Grant looked over at her, her blue eyes piercing into his soul. She looked pissed, too.

“Sorry,” Grant said, deciding that he was going to try and calm down. But only for Britta. “The last time we had a bunch of strange shifters come to Maine, we had a bit of a problem. I don’t think it’s wrong for me to wonder who the hell this guy is.”

When Grant looked back over at Britta, after glaring at Grant, of course, he saw that her piercing gaze had softened. So that was the right thing to say. Well, it was better than admitting his jealousy was firing up big time from someone just talking to Britta.

“This is Finn, he’s from the Hollow Lake Pack,” Britta filled him in, crossing her arms across her chest as well. Grant noticed that she wasn’t as upset, and was softening up to him with each word she said. “He and a few others from his pack have come to train and learn from us. They’re here to help in any way that they can in the war against hate and evil rogues.”

“That’s right,” Finn butted in. Grant looked back to him and saw that he was trying to be nice to him. Grant still didn’t like him, though. “We’re just here to help and learn, man. As I told Britta and Kato, an attack on one of us is an attack on all of us.”

“Well, that’s all nice to hear, and I hope we can hold hands and sing together at a campfire one day,” Grant replied dryly. “But I’m gonna have to see it before I believe it. Your loyalty, I mean.”

“After all you guys have been through, that’s understandable,” was all Finn would say.

Grant stared at the shifter for a few seconds longer before nodding his head at Britta to talk to him away from the blonde. He wanted to talk to her alone, and Britta smiled politely at Finn as she walked with him over to one of the many benches that littered the wall in the gym.

“You know what it looked like over there?” Grant asked Britta as they both sat down at one of the benches. Britta rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall, obviously knowing where Grant was heading with the conversation.

“What, Grant? Since you obviously know exactly what it looked like,” Britta replied. Both of them kept their voices down so that Finn wouldn’t overhear them. Finn was now talking to another shifter who walked over to introduce themselves to the new shifter in town. At least some of the pack were being friendly to the strangers.

“It looked like you two are being friendly,” he replied. He didn’t have to say anything else. Britta knew exactly what he meant. And Grant only hoped he was hiding his disbelief and jealousy well.

“Well, maybe you should mind your own business.”

“I just don’t think you should associate yourself with guys like that,” Grant whispered to her, his voice growing slightly. She just rolled her eyes at him again, almost in disbelief.

“Since when do you care?” She questioned him, her whisper rising slightly as well. Grant’s heart quickened when her blue eyes flashed in annoyance. “What’s your deal?”

“Nothing,” Grant shrugged, somehow able to keep his jealousy under wraps. For now. “I just don’t want any rumors spreading about you and him, that’s all. And you know there are already rumors spreading about you guys just from that flirty talk you two were having before I saved you.”

“Grant…,” Britta trailed off, angry. “Maybe you should mind your own business. I can take care of myself, in case you haven’t noticed. I don’t need you protecting my image, or whatever the hell it is you’re trying to say you’re protecting. Now, I have to go meet with Kato because I’m teaching a defense class, and I don’t need you putting me in a shitty mood.”

Before Grant could stop her or say anything else, Britta angrily got up off the bench and walked away. She quickly said goodbye to Finn, explaining that she had to meet with Kato about her new teaching job, and then left towards the back offices that the gym held.

Anger rolled off of Grant’s body in waves, and when he caught Finn’s eye from across the room, it took everything in Grant to not snarl at him.

Grant didn’t do well when he was jealous. And he really didn’t like the fact that Britta was flirting with this stranger more than she was flirting with him.

Shaking his head, Grant walked towards the punching bags. He needed to get himself under control.

CHAPTER 7

Britta didn’t think she would ever be calm when an Elder was near.

Michael, probably the friendliest Elder there ever was, and ever would be, was a friend to the Moonlight Pack. If it wasn’t for him, Thea wouldn’t be with them anymore, and Kaiser and his murderous rogues would’ve probably taken more lives than they originally had. The Elder was old friends with Hann, though Hann was normally pretty quiet about how they actually met and became friends in their long lives as leaders.

Britta knew that Michael was one of the oldest Elders there was, but his age wasn’t known by anyone – other than himself, of course.

Elders were the oldest shifters alive, and there were rumors they were actually centuries and centuries old. Since they had some type of magic spell that kept them alive, they had strong powers that regular shifters didn’t have. They also were pretty scary. They dressed themselves in long robes and hoods so as not to put anyone in unease from their pale and scarred skin, but their faceless voices tended to still give people the creeps.

Right now, Britta was watching Michael walk into the gym, alone with no one behind him. He was a regular at the Moonlight Pack regular hang outs now, but everyone still stopped and stared as the Elder walked in. Hann patted him on the back in the middle of the gym as they greeted each other, and Britta found herself staring at the scarred, pale white hand that grasped Hann’s own in friendliness. The skin was stretched over a small, skinny, long hand – and it wasn’t that far from a skeleton’s hand.

Hann and Michael walked into the office in the back of the gym together, with Kato, Ross, and Britta following behind them. Kato sat in on all of the alpha meetings now, as Hann wanted him to learn more and more; therefore, Britta was now in every meeting. And she was absorbing so much new information about what was really happening in the shifter world. It was crazy that so much was hidden from the average shifter, but Britta knew they were doing this as not to worry everyone into a frenzy. Hell, the whole race was in a frenzy from the things they did know about the uprisings and the rogues. If they knew everything that was happening, and if they knew the threat level of it all, the Elders were worried they would all fall into a frenzy of anarchy.

“How’s your search been treating you?” Hann asked Michael as they sat down together in the office, with Ross shutting the door behind everyone. Hann and Michael took a seat at one of the big, comfy couches that was pushed against one side of the spacious office. Ross, Britta, and Kato took their normal seats in the corner of the room, each of them sitting in their own chairs.

Michael had been searching for Gabriel, the Elder that had gone crazy and tried to kill and/or wipe Thea’s memory a few weeks ago. Gabriel longed for the old ways of the shifter society, and he wanted strict rules that were followed by all. However, the Elders like Michael knew that times were changing, and if the Elders were going to rule efficiently, they needed to change and adapt with the shifters and the world.

Gabriel and the select few didn’t see it this way. They tried to stage an invasion on the Moonlight Pack and take away Thea, but they failed when Michael showed up with all the Elders on his side, as well as the whole pack of shifters. Gabriel was forced to run off, with only a few Elders that still followed him, but not before he made accusations that maybe Kaiser was right about his view of the world.

And that was very scary for everyone. Because Kaiser didn’t view halfies or humans to have any place in the shifter society. And he was willing to kill to make his view known.

“Sadly, I have not found any new evidence or lead on where our dear Gabriel is,” Michael told Hann, his voice a whisper that bounced off of the walls until it landed near Britta. She couldn’t help the goosebumps that found a home on her arms. Elders always seemed to whisper, though they were always heard by all that needed to hear what they were saying.

Britta was there when Gabriel showed up and tried to take Thea away. For a few minutes, she was the only shifter there with Thea, the only one between one of the most powerful things around and a tiny human. Britta still had nightmares about how it could’ve turned out. She still had memories of the fear that coursed through her veins as she snarled at the evil that attacked her in unseen waves, rolling off of Gabriel and the Elders that stood behind him in the woods that dark, frightening night.

“I’m afraid that we won’t find Gabriel until he wants to be found,” Hann admitted, leaning back on the couch and crossing his legs. Even though he was talking of serious and potentially deadly people, Hann had that causal smile on his face that he always did. Britta envied her Elder. She wished she could play it nonchalant and cool like he did on a daily basis.

Though when her alpha was truly mad and upset, it was the scariest thing that Britta had ever seen. She never wanted to be on the receiving end of that emotion.

“I think you are right, my friend,” Michael nodded as well, also leaning back on the couch. Britta thought it was so weird to see an Elder relaxing. “However, I do have some bad news about a recent uprising that was to take place in Vermont.”

Britta quickly snapped upright. Vermont wasn’t that far away. An uprising there, a successful uprising of rogues, wouldn’t be good for anyone – especially the Moonlight Pack.

“Tell me,” Hann said, leaning forward now, his forearms resting on his knees.

“There was to be an uprising of rogues near one of the smaller packs in Vermont,” Michael told him, his whispered voice staying the same despite the situation. “However, the rogues that came to band together simply couldn’t. We’re not sure how it started, but they all started attacking each other. When we got there, there were bodies of rogues everywhere. It was a bloodbath. Some of the rogues that were still alive were able to tell us that it started with two rogues fighting, eventually turning into a full out riot and brawl between the shifters that were supposed to ban together. Even though these rogues were not a part of our society, it was still a great amount of shifter blood that was lost on that day.”

Before Hann could say anything regarding the rogue massacre, there was a knock at the door. Hann and Michael nodded at each other as Hann stood up to open it up, obviously knowing who it would be. Britta could tell that Ross and Kato didn’t though by the way the straightened up in their chair. All three of them watched Hann open the door to a shifter that none of them had ever met before. Britta quickly realized from his scent that this young shifter was an alpha, something that obviously surprised Kato as well.

“Ethan, my friend,” Hann greeted him with a smile, shaking his hand and ushering him in. Ethan was a tall shifter with honey brown skin, dark brown eyes, and close shaven black hair. When he smiled at Hann, Britta saw pearly white teeth. The guy was handsome. Britta couldn’t believe he was an alpha, though. He was so… young. She wondered what happened to the alpha before him. Sadly, when a young shifter became an alpha, that normally meant something, sometimes horrible, happened to the prior alpha. Ethan looked like he had to step in and become the alpha of his pack.

“So good to see you again, my child,” Michael told Ethan as he stood up and greeted the young alpha. Britta, Kato, and Ross all stood up to greet the new shifter, wondering where he was from.

“Friends, this is Ethan, the new alpha of the Blue Creek Pack from Louisiana. New Orleans, to be exact. Ethan contacted me a few days earlier to talk about potentially coming here and learning from our group, as well as helping out in whatever way he could,” Hann told them all, an arm slung around the young alpha’s shoulders. “I, of course, accepted.”

“I realize that I’m younger than you expected,” Ethan told the three who were standing up, shaking his hands. Britta tried to keep her face as neutral as possible, though she noticed Kato gave him a reassuring smile. “My father was… well, older than most shifters when he decided to finally have children. He wanted me to take his place, but he died only a few months ago from old age. Hence, why I’m here instead of him.”

Even though Ethan wasn’t that young, he was probably about 25 years old, that was incredibly young for shifters to be alphas – especially because shifters lived long lives. Kato was around his age, and he was just beginning his training as the next alpha. It would be years before Hann officially stepped down for Kato to take control.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Kato told him as he shook his hand, and both Britta and Ross nodded in silence to show respect to this new alpha.

“I thank you for that,” Ethan smiled at him. “He was a great leader.”

“That he was,” Hann butted in, smiling. “And a very dear friend to me and Michael here. He will be missed, my son. Now, I appreciate you coming out here and offering your allegiance to us after everything that has happened. It won’t be forgotten.”

“I would also like to learn while I am here,” Ethan announced to the room. “Every shifter should be in the best shape possible, in regard to fighting techniques. I’ve been hearing that you were thinking about putting together some classes, or one on one sessions with some of your top shifters. I would like to join in and learn from your warriors.”

“Well, we have one of our very best right here,” Hann said, smiling at Britta. She grinned humbly back at her alpha, not used to the attention she was getting. “I’m going to persuade Britta here to start teaching some shifters the defense and attack techniques she’s seemed to have perfected. I would talk to her to see what she’s planning. She’s nothing but the best.”

Britta smiled at her alpha again, not knowing what to do with all of the attention she was garnering. She, for a quick second, wished that Grant was with her. He would able to see that she was feeling awkward and put her at ease.

She hated that she thought that, especially after his weird jealous and angry attack that he had with her and Finn. Which was a big fight over nothing.

She couldn’t believe that her alpha was complimenting her, a feat that not a lot of shifters get. Yet, instead of dwelling on this fact, all she could think about was Grant.

CHAPTER 8

Grant needed to talk to Britta. He needed to let her know that he knew he was an asshole earlier with her and Finn. He wanted to apologize – he needed to apologize.

As Grant walked around the gym, having just gotten all of his emotions out through his workout with his trusty punching bag in one of the corners of the gym, he knew he had to keep his cool. He couldn’t be acting crazy emotional when he saw Britta. He knew that if he was just himself, and if he just honestly apologized, then she would forgive him and everything would be okay.

Or, at least, he hoped that everything would be okay.

Grant saw Britta leaving the back office from across the gym, but he slowed his walking when he realized that she wasn’t alone. There was another shifter with her, and Grant realized that he didn’t know who this shifter was, either. Grant didn’t know how he felt about all these new, different shifters from who-knows-where coming to Maine. It didn’t sit right with him, and he found himself not trusting any of these shifters.

Grant couldn’t believe his anger and distrust had reached that level. Before Kaiser came and murdered Moonlight Pack members, before everything happened, Grant never would’ve judged or distrusted any shifter that wasn’t a part of his pack. Now, though, things were different. He couldn’t handle being on the losing side again. And if that meant that he didn’t trust anyone and watched every single thing these new shifters did, then that’s what that meant. He couldn’t bear to lose someone else that he loved. He simply wouldn’t let it happen. Ever again.

Grant heard Britta talking to this strange, tall shifter as he waited for her near one of the pull up bars.

“Well, just let me know if you need any help,” Britta was telling the shifter with a smile on her face. “Or if you need some tips on the best places to eat. If you need help with anything, just let me know.”

“Okay, that sounds great,” the shifter replied. Grant squinted his eyes at the shifter’s back as he tried to find out why he had a weird scent. “Thanks for offering to help me. I’m afraid I need all the help I can get.”

“Don’t worry, Ethan,” Britta chuckled along with him. “By the time you’re done here, you’re gonna be invincible.”

“One can only hope,” the shifter responded before he waved goodbye and walked out of the gym. As the shifter left, Grant finally realized and picked up on the scent and aura that the shifter was emitting. The shifter, Ethan, was an alpha. And a young alpha at that.

Grant wanted to know what was going on. He walked up to Britta, hoping that this time his jealousy wouldn’t take over his mouth and brain.

Britta turned around when Grant walked over, her smile instantly dropping as she met his eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him, obvious anger in her eyes and body language.

It looks like she wasn’t over their little fight they had early. Grant sighed. This was going to be great.

“Can I help you with something?” Britta asked him, her voice monotonous and not reflecting her emotions in the slightest.

“I came over to apologize,” Grant muttered, his own anger still buried beneath what he was saying.

“Oh, you mean you came to apologize for being a complete dick earlier?” Britta asked him, her black hair, that was tied up in a high ponytail, moving with ever move her head made. “You mean, you came to apologize because you’re a jealous asshole?”

“I’m not--,”

“Oh, don’t try and defend yourself,” Britta snapped, cutting him off. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“I’m ridiculous?” Grant exclaimed. Her anger at him had released the anger and jealousy that he was trying so desperately to hold in. It looked like he was losing that battle, though. “You’re the one that’s constantly spreading your legs for guys to give you attention. I’m the one who’s just trying to let you know how desperate you look to everyone who’s not out to just screw you and then leave you.”

The minute the words escaped Grant’s mouth, he knew that what he said was wrong. And it crossed a major line.

Britta’s mouth snapped closed, and she stared at him, her face going blank and no hint of emotion showing up on her perfect, porcelain face. If she was hurt by what Grant just said, she gave him no hint of it.

“You know, you’re truly a dick,” Britta replied, laughing bitterly and not meeting his eyes. Her refusal to look at him was the only way that Grant knew what he said actually hurt her. And he hated himself instantly for everything he said. He didn’t want to hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her. Why was he like this? “And, if you honestly knew me and cared about me, you would realize that all of those rumors that are spread about me through the pack? Those are just that: rumors. And I can’t believe you, out of all people, would throw that in my face and not know the truth. You’re a dick.”

And then, with one more bitter laugh, Britta turned on her heels and left the gym, not looking back at Grant at all.

Grant felt like shit. He brought this pain on himself, but he only wished that he could turn back time and not say what he did. He didn’t mean to say any of those things, and he hated that he made Britta upset, even though she would never let him see her hurt.

The worst part was, Grant knew that those stories about Britta weren’t true and were just rumors. For a few years, there have been nasty stories that were constantly spread about Britta sleeping with almost every male, and even some females, in the pack. No one knew how the rumors got started, and no one ever said anything to Britta because they all knew that she could kick everyone’s ass, but the guys in the pack, the younger guys at least, kept this rumor alive.

The rumor wasn’t true, though. And the majority of the pack knew this – except for the dumb, immature, young shifters that continued to keep the rumor around. Grant couldn’t believe that he would throw those lies in Britta’s face. And he knew that, no matter what she said, those rumors stung and always would. The pack could be horrible sometimes, and while Grant and Britta both thought that a lot of the members had changed for the better, the past and everything that had happened still stung.

“You’re a dick,” Kato said as he sidled up next to him, his arms crossed across his chest. He was staring at the doors that Britta just left through, as was Grant.

Grant sighed. Kato must’ve heard what was going on.

“That’s what I’m told,” was all Grant could respond with. Kato and Britta were right: he was a dick. And he felt horrible about the whole thing. He wished he could just run to wherever Britta was and take her in his arms. He wanted to make her feel better. He wanted her to know that she could trust him. He wanted her to know how he really felt.

“Everyone knows how you and Britta feel about each other, you know,” Kato told him, making Grant swivel around in confusion to look at his friend. What in the world was Kato talking about? He couldn’t possibly mean that he knew how Grant truly felt about Britta – because that would mean that Britta felt the same. And Grant knew that that couldn’t possibly be true.

“What do you mean?” Grant asked, attempting to play it safe.

“I mean, everyone knows that you two like each other,” Kato responded. “As in, you both like each other more than friends. It seems that everyone knows this – except you two, of course. So, you two continue to bicker and fight, all while hiding the feelings that are so very obviously there.”

“I have no idea what you’re even saying,” Grant tried to laugh. His mind was whirling at what Kato was saying. It was one thing to have an unrequited crush on a woman who would never like him. A crush on a woman that was way too good for him – and way out of his league. It was quite another thing to learn that that woman might just have some type of feelings for him, as well.

“Grant, if you like Britta, just tell her. It’d save all of us some energy. We’re getting annoyed having to deal with you two.”

And with one pat on the back, Kato left Grant standing in the middle of the gym, alone again. Grant shook his head, refusing to believe in everything that Kato just told him.

Because there was no way in hell that Britta felt anything other than hate and disgust towards him. Especially after everything he just said to her.

But the thought of Britta actually feeling something towards him? Well, that brought a smile to his face.

CHAPTER 9

Britta needed to get rid of these feelings that she was having. She needed to do something. Anything. So, after calling Thea and Annie and agreeing to meet at their mansion, Britta found herself showing up with a huge box full of all the different kinds of alcohol she could find. Beer, tequila, whiskey, vodka… Just about everything was in there. And Britta couldn’t wait to numb her emotions for just a few minutes. She hated the way her mind was currently whirling from what Grant said to her.

And she hated that she just wanted to cry. She hated that he could make her feel so small, while also make her long for his touch.

Needless to say, she needed alcohol. And stat.

“I brought some party favors,” Britta said when Thea opened the front door to her house. Thea looked down at the box that Britta was carrying and smiled.

“Just a few things, I see,” Thea sarcastically said, laughing as she moved aside to let Britta walk into the house.

“I heard some things happened today,” Annie said as Britta and Thea walked into the kitchen. Britta tried to carefully set the box full of glass bottles down on the table, though she couldn’t help but slam them down when she thought about Grant after what Annie said. After checking to make sure all of the bottles were still intact, Britta sighed and pulled out the bottle of tequila she had.

“It’s been a long, long, day,” was all Britta said as she started to pour a row of shots for the girls.

“Oh, so we’re not using any margarita mix?” Thea asked as she eyes the shots of tequila that Britta was pouring.

“Tonight is more of a shots night, I think,” Britta responded, giving each of the girls their full shot glasses.

One thing led to another, and before any of them knew it, the three girls were drunk and laying on the kitchen floor, once full bottles of hard liquor all gone now. Of course, most of that liquor was drunk by both Britta and Annie. Thea, because she was human, stopped a while ago. She knew that she couldn’t keep up – but that didn’t mean that Britta and Annie had to stop drinking. And boy, did they end up drinking a lot.

“So, what happened earlier today?” Annie asked, slurring her words as she lay on the kitchen tile floor next to Britta. Thea was on the other side of Britta, snoring softly. Britta couldn’t believe that Thea had managed to get comfortable enough to sleep on the hard floor – but then again, they were all really drunk.

“Ugh, I don’t even know where to start,” Britta replied, slurring her words as well. So much had happened between her and Grant in the last 24 hours, and she didn’t know where they stood now.

And that upset her more than she realized. Hence, the alcohol.

She knew that Grant was more than likely jealous, but that didn’t mean that he could be a total dick to her. She also knew that he didn’t trust these new shifters that were all coming to Maine in the slightest, and she couldn’t blame him. Grant had lost more than probably anyone in the pack during the raid and murderous rampage that was led by Kaiser. Britta wanted to help him through the tough time that she knew he must be going through, but if he was going to be rude to her every step of the way, she was going to leave him alone.

And she desperately didn’t want to leave him alone. Because then that would mean that she would be alone. And she desperately didn’t want to be alone.

“Does it have to do with Grant?” Annie asked, and Thea snorted awake after the question.

“Grant?” Thea slurred, much drunker than the other two. She seemed to try to wake up and join the conversation with the girls, especially now that it was involving some gossip between Britta and Grant. “Oh, I love Grant. And I love Britta and Grant together.”

And with that final, slurred declaration, Thea fell back into her drunken sleep, making both Britta and Annie laugh at their human friend.

“I second that, Thea,” Annie yelled at her best friend, though this time Thea didn’t jolt awake like before. “I love Britta and Grant together as well.”

“You two are crazy,” Britta interjected, blushing and feeling like her whole body was red from head to toe from embarrassment.

“Have you ever thought about giving the poor kid a chance?” Annie asked her, smiling. “You have to know that he’s crazy about you. And you have to know that you’re crazy about him. It’s evident to, quite literally, every single person other than you two.”

“You’re crazy,” Britta stated, at a loss for words yet again. She knew that her and Grant had a connection, but Annie was making it sound like the two were soul mates or something – and Britta didn’t know how she felt about that.

“Britta,” Annie laughed, almost like she was in disbelief. “Everyone knows that there’s something between you two. Can you honestly tell me that you feel nothing for Grant?”

“It doesn’t matter what I feel, Annie! He’s rude.” And with a shake of her head and a desperate need for some more alcohol, Britta jumped into the story of everything that had happened in the last 24 hours. She made sure to quote Grant exactly, and as she told Annie the story, she found that the words he said to her still stung.

And she hated that. She wished that she could just brush him off and move on to someone like Finn. She wished that she didn’t even like Grant in the first place. But all she wanted was to go over to his place and talk to him – and talk things out. She wanted to see him. She needed to see him.

She hated that he made her feel like that. Although she had to admit that maybe the constant drinking of tequila and whiskey combined didn’t make her emotions any clearer.

“Listen, Grant’s a dick, and what he said can’t be just forgiven,” Annie told her, turning over so that she was now laying on the kitchen floor on her side. Her eyes met Britta’s blue ones, forcing Britta to listen to the words that she knew Annie was going to say. The words Britta wanted Annie to say. “But that’s Grant. He says things before he thinks, and I think all of us know that he lashes out over the smallest things when he really doesn’t mean to. He’s not as bad as he used to be, but you have to know how he feels about you. And things probably aren’t easy for him, what with all the different shifters coming in and wanting to learn from us while also helping us. I bet he doesn’t trust them – and I bet any of them talking with you makes him crazy.”

“We’re not even dating and his jealousy is ridiculous,” Britta exclaimed.

“Maybe you should just talk to him and give him a chance!” Annie exclaimed back.

Britta shook her head, dropping the conversation as sleepiness entered her whole entire body. She just desperately wanted to curl up beside Thea and fall asleep.

She knew that she would dream of Grant. And she didn’t quite mind at that moment. She hoped she would dream of him.

CHAPTER 10

Gabriel was upset. More than upset.

Gabriel was furious. And he was tired of waiting for things to happen. Maybe it was time that he finally acted, after all these months of waiting and hiding so that Michael doesn’t catch on to his plan. Maybe it was time to act.

Gabriel was currently with the other Elders that had followed him in a castle in Scotland. The castle was in ruins, and Gabriel hated living in squalor like this. He couldn’t wait for the day when he would waltz back in and see all the other Elders. On that day, he would win. And all of those Elders would realize that they chose the losing side when they turned on him and joined Michael’s side.

Gabriel would win. He would bring destruction to the shifters and people that ignored him and called him crazy. He would avenge his name and he would have no mercy. And he couldn’t wait to bring hell onto this earth.

“There’s a man from Michigan here,” an Elder told him as he walked to where Gabriel stood alone in the courtyard. Gabriel’s hood and robe was off, and he reveled in the sunshine that met his pale, scarred skin. He hated the robes that were forced on the Elders, as to hide their ghastly appearance.

The only good thing that came from being in hiding was Gabriel was able to disrobe and let his skin breathe when they found a place to stay.

“Let him come out and meet me,” Gabriel told the Elder, smiling even though his back was to him. He closed his eyes and lifted his palms up to the sky, the sun making him feel alive. He hadn’t had this much energy in a long time. He missed the strength.

“Hello, sir,” a shifter’s voice carried to him as the man joined him in the courtyard.

Gabriel quickly turned around, laughing to himself as the shifter jumped slightly at the appearance of the Elder in front of him. Gabriel would bet that this shifter had never seen an Elder so revealed before, as the custom wasn’t normally a common sight. Gabriel also knew that his white eyes tended to frighten people. Maybe that was why he enjoyed his hood and robe off.

He craved the fear emitting off of shifters and humans alike. He liked the strength and power it gave him.

This shifter was someone Gabriel had been patiently waiting for. He was a rogue from the States, and possibly one of the more level headed of the rogue shifters around. While he was more levelheaded, he had very strong opinions about humans and halfies – and he was just the type of old fashioned creature that Gabriel was looking for. No more crazy shifters like Kaiser. Gabriel had to be smart now.

“I want you to start recruiting rogues and shifters alike for our mission,” Gabriel told the rogue shifter, smiling as he almost seemed to dance around the nervous man. Gabriel wanted to play with him and make him run from the courtyard frightened, but he knew that he couldn’t. He had to be on his best behavior. “We need to ramp up our recruitment process. And we can’t have another situation like what we had earlier.”

Gabriel was mentioning the uprising that failed, resulting in the rogues turning on each other and killing each other before they could even accomplish the smallest thing. From the way the rogue in front of him flinched in fear, Gabriel knew that he knew exactly what he was referencing. That was good – Gabriel hated being around stupid shifters. Such a waste of the species.

“Yes, sir,” the shifter told him, bending his head so that he was now looking at the ground and no longer meeting Gabriel’s eerie, white eyes. Gabriel smirked. He thrived in people’s unease. It was almost as good as their fear. Almost.

“Start in Michigan,” Gabriel finally said as he realized that the shifter wouldn’t look him in the eyes again. “I’ll join you soon. And when I get there, there better be some organization. Because right now, I’m not happy with your work. And I would very much enjoy being happy.”

“Yes, sir,” the shifter repeated before Gabriel dismissed him with a wave of his hand. The rogue shifter scurried off as if he couldn’t wait to get out of the damp and dark Scotland and fly to Michigan.

Gabriel couldn’t wait to get to Michigan, either. Because Michigan was closer to Maine than Scotland was, and he couldn’t wait to see Michael and his friends in Maine again.

He couldn’t wait to make the Moonlight Pack pay.

And he would make them pay.

CHAPTER 11

Britta woke up uncomfortably on Annie’s kitchen floor and with a pounding headache. As she rolled over, she almost crashed into Thea who was still snoring. It looked like Thea hadn’t moved an inch since she crashed early last night, and she was still curled in a little ball near the cabinets that littered the side of the kitchen. Britta slightly groaned as she attempted to sit up, her head pounding. Thea snored on.

As Britta rubbed her head softly with her hand, she heard a slight chuckle from up above. Looking up slowly, as if she was waking from a painful, century long nap, Britta saw Annie squinting with a slight smirk on her face as she attempted to make coffee. But with each noise she accidentally made, Britta saw Annie grimace in pain. At least Britta wasn’t the only one finding themselves having a hard time this morning.

She couldn’t wait to see the pain that Thea was going to be in when she woke up.

“I don’t want to talk about anything,” Annie muttered as Britta slowly got up from the floor, her back in pain from sleeping on such a hard surface and in an uncomfortable position. Britta seemed to have to cling onto the kitchen counter as she realized that her body had a hard time moving.

Even though the girls were shifters that normally healed well, alcohol still seemed to leave them in a hungover state. Whenever a shifter was in their normal human form, it took much longer to heal than when they are sick or injured in their wolf form. And things like alcohol still tended to leave them incapacitated, even though it still took a lot to actually affect them. For this reason alone, shifters tended to fight in their wolf form so that they wouldn’t be critically wounded without the ability to heal fast. This was one of the reasons why some shifters were training in their human forms at the gym. The thought of some rogue surprising them and critically wounding them while they were in their human form was something that no one wanted.

“Trust me, I don’t either,” Britta muttered as she finally stood up straight, though she was still leaning heavily on the counter. “I don’t want to do anything either.”

And then, almost as if saying the words helped activate her brain into realizing that she actually did have something to do – and a lot planned for the day – Britta let out a groan. Britta couldn’t lay around her house all day in pain from the amount of alcohol she inhaled last night. Because today, in ten minutes to be exact, she had a mini class that she was supposed to lead, full of four people that were relying on her to teach them how to defend themselves.

Britta groaned again, to which Annie shushed her, as she quickly tried to make her way to the door.

Well, this was going to be interesting.

The class actually turned out to not be a disaster, something that Britta prayed for. She showed up hungover beyond belief, of course, but she managed to shift and run from Annie and Thea’s house to the gym, helping her mind heal somewhat while she was in her wolf form. That didn’t get rid of her pounding headache or her sluggish movements, though.

The mini class that she had was composed of shifters that didn’t care that she was hungover as long as she taught them – which she did. Finn, Ethan, and two Moonlight Pack shifters, Hazel and Lea, were her students for the day, and Britta was glad she had them as her foray into the teaching world. Even though she was hungover, she managed to give them good instructions and technique advice as she had them partner up and go through various different situations, each of them playing both the attacker and the shifter on defense.

“When are you going to do another session, Britta?” Hazel, a shifter that grew up with Britta, asked her after class. The five of them were all laying down on the huge mat that encompassed the whole room that they were in. The room was originally a huge weight room that was separate from the rest of the gym, but Hann and Kato had made it a room to teach in last week. This way they could actually hear each other and not be constantly interrupted by passing shifters.

Britta actually didn’t know the answer to her question, though she wished she could say. This first session was mainly just to see if she liked teaching, and Britta, though she was very hungover, found that she did. She liked being able to tell others what they were doing right and wrong – and she felt better knowing that shifters would be able to protect and defend themselves better. It was better than the alternative, and in this day and age, the alternative was much more common with rogues running around killing innocent shifters just for the fun of it and to cause disruption.

“You have to do another class, Britta,” Ethan called from where he was laying on the mat. Finn was beside him, and Britta saw him nod in agreement. “You kicked our ass today. I don’t know about you guys, but I haven’t worked that hard in a while. I’m kinda ashamed to say that.”

The group laughed and yelled out words of encouragement, making Ethan smile and feel more comfortable. Britta smiled with him. She was happy that he was feeling more at home among the Moonlight Pack – and she was glad that Hazel and Lea seemed to be trying to make Ethan and Finn feel comfortable among them.

“Don’t be ashamed, man,” Finn told him. “I can hardly move, and I’m not even close to being as hungover as Britta is.”

Britta scoffed, which led to another round of badgering from the group, something they had been doing in a friendly manner since she walked through the door at the beginning of class and declared that she was a little under the weather.

“I don’t know, guys,” Britta finally admitted after the four had settled down. “I’ll talk to Hann. I think that maybe this could be good – and fun.”

The group left after talking a bit more and encouraging Britta some more to make the teaching a daily session. Britta let herself lay on the mats for a few minutes longer, feeling exhausted and like she could fall asleep right then and there. It was only when she sensed someone walk into the room that she snapped up, immediately regretting the sudden movement as her head spun.

She saw Grant smile slightly as he walked over to where she lay, and Britta hated the way her heartbeat sped up as he grew closer to her.

“Hey,” she called to him first, attempting to send the signal that she wanted to forget about everything that happened yesterday. They didn’t go run together last night, and she found herself missing him terribly. She didn’t want to admit that to him, of course, but it didn’t hurt to just try and act like it didn’t happen. She wanted to talk to him and find out how he was truly doing with all of these new shifters all over the place.

And, she just wanted to talk to him about stupid stuff like they used to do. She just wanted him around, without both of them getting in stupid fights and storming off.

She just wanted to be around him, plain and simple.

“Hey,” Grant said as he sat down next to Britta on the mats. She sat up with him, smiling slightly. She didn’t know why she was nervous all of a sudden. She wondered if it had to do with everything that she and Annie talked about last night regarding Grant.

Her heart quickened in her chest, and she hoped that he couldn’t hear how strong and fast her heart beat was.

“Before you start making fun of me: yes, I am hungover,” Britta began their conversation with a tentative smile. She hoped that they would just steer clear of any arguing for the time being. She didn’t know if she had enough fight in her, what with her massive hangover and everything. Plus, she just really didn’t want to fight with Grant. Hell, she never wanted to fight with Grant.

“You’re hungover?” Grant laughed as he settled in on the mat, leaning back on his elbows as he looked at Britta with a smile on his face. Britta instantly relaxed. “What, did you go out with Finn or something?”

Britta’s smile immediately vanished from her face. All she could do was stare at Grant in bewilderment.

Was he kidding? He had to be kidding. Anger coursed through Britta’s veins as she scoffed at him and got up from the mat, quickly pacing to the door that would get her away from Grant. It was funny how she longed to be near him, but just as quickly, from his attitude and words alone, she desperately longed to be away from him.

“You’re such a dick,” Britta told him as she started walking towards the door. That seemed to be her go-to insult for Grant, but she didn’t care. She was too upset to think of anything witty or clever to put him in his place. She just wanted to get away.

“Wait, Britta,” Grant followed her, immediately getting up from the mat and running to get himself in front of her. He seemed to be blocking the door from her sight, and she sighed. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. She didn’t want him to see the pain that she knew would show there. “I was joking. It was a bad joke, and I just thought it would help break the ice. I don’t know why I said it. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you’re sorry?” Britta yelled, beyond angry at this point. He was the reason she was this hungover, and before she could stop her hungover mind, she decided that this was a perfect time to tell him how she felt last night. “I got myself crazy drunk last night – with Annie and Thea, mind you – because of everything you said to me yesterday! You don’t get to just consistently insult me, then say sorry, and expect everything to just be peachy, Grant. That’s not how this works.”

Britta regretted it the minute she said it. Now, Grant knew how much his words affected her, and Britta felt like he could hold that over her head. Because there was no way drunk Annie was right – Grant couldn’t possibly like her like she likes him.

Britta pushed past Grant, refusing to look at his face. She didn’t want to see the emotions he held there. She didn’t want to see his face at all.

“Britta,” Grant tried again, grabbing her arm and pulling him back to him.

“Stop,” Britta glared at him, turning around and finally meeting his eyes. She was surprised by what she saw there. He was pleading with her, and he seemed to be… hurt. She glanced away, deciding to go for a quieter tone. It was now or never, and Britta decided to just go for it. It wasn’t like she would be ruining their friendship now. It seemed like they didn’t even have a friendship anymore. “If you would just pay attention and realize that I care about you, maybe it would stick in your head that I’m not interested in Finn or Ethan or anybody. I’m interested in you. But you’re a complete dick, and your jealousy and anger refuses to let you see what’s right in front of your face. And I’m not gonna stick around for you to finally pull yourself together.”

And with one final look at Grant, Britta turned around and slipped out of his grasp. She walked through the doors, taking deep breath after deep breath as if she was trying not to hyperventilate. Leaving the gym, she realized that she didn’t feel any better by confessing her feelings to Grant. In fact, she felt much worse.

CHAPTER 12

Grant ran after Britta. It was the only thing he could think of doing. He wanted to see her. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to tell her that he had those same feelings that she had, and he wanted to make her feel better.

Grant mentally cursed at himself for being so dumb and shallow. He couldn’t believe he let his jealousy and anger evolve and blind him like it did. Britta was right about that. And he wouldn’t blame her for running away and never looking back to where Grant stood, quietly waiting for her.

Well, he wouldn’t quietly wait for her. He would run after her and loudly demand that she listen to his own declaration of love. He just hoped that she would listen to him and accept him. He hoped that his craziness hadn’t ruined everything between him and Britta.

As he ran through the gym, quickly scanning the huge room to make sure that Britta wasn’t there before jogging outside, Grant remembered the little pain in his heart he had last night as he ran through the forest in his wolf form. Alone. He half expected Britta to show up, and then they’d accidentally run into each other and just make up. But when Grant realized that he had been running through the woods for two hours straight, waiting for her, he realized that she probably wasn’t going to show up. He wanted to go see her, but he knew that she would just be angry with him.

He didn’t know that she had, in fact, been getting drunk over him. And even though it was his fault and he was a dick, he realized that it felt nice to finally realize that Britta actually did feel something for him.

Grant finally made it to outside the gym, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Britta turn the corner around the side of the gym to make it to the back. She must’ve just ran through the woods to get here. Grant jogged after her, calling her name to get her to stop. She wouldn’t, making Grant pick up his pace.

When he finally caught up with her, they were in front of the dense forest that was behind the gym. Britta didn’t stop walking though when she realized that Grant had indeed caught up with her. She kept on walking that brisk, no BS pace, making Grant walk with her. They entered the forest, and Grant had to pull her arms so that she quit walking and she faced him.

Grant looked into her eyes and realized that she had closed off all emotion from entering her face or her eyes. She was wearing a mask for him, and the pain in his chest was all too real. He hated that she now didn’t trust him enough to show him her true emotions.

“I’m sorry, Brit,” Grant confessed, sighing. His voice was small and not at all the confidence he thought he would have when he finally told her how he truly felt about her. “I’m a dick. I know that. You know that. Hell, everyone knows that.”

“Was there a point in you chasing after me? Or are you just gonna stand here and mutter about how much of a dick you are?” Britta asked him, crossing her arms around her chest so that he was no longer touching her.

“You were right earlier,” Grant told her, rubbing his hands through his hair, uncertain. He couldn’t seem to be able to just confess his feelings for her. He could add coward to that list he was spewing about everything he was. “I was jealous and angry about so many things, and I took that out on you. Out of all the people in my life, you shouldn’t have been in that line of fire. I’m sorry. If I would’ve just chilled out, I would’ve seen that you weren’t doing anything with them. And you know what? Even if you were involved with them, that’s none of my business. But you know me, Brit. When I’m jealous, I’m jealous. And I tend to freak out over the smallest things.”

“Once again, the point of this conversation?”

“I… When I wake up in the morning, I think of you. I can’t wait to see you. For the past few weeks, I’ve lived for our nightly runs because that meant I got to see you. I don’t know when things between us changed, but it did – and I’m happy that it did. Brit, I don’t know a happy life without you.”

Grant finally saw Britta’s mask seem to fall. Her tense body relaxed as her eyes watered up slightly as she gazed at him. Grant didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he felt his chest constrict when he finally let out the breath he was holding.

Before Britta could say or do anything else, Grant grabbed her arms and pulled her to him. His lips met hers, and it was like every dream that Grant had had suddenly become true. When Britta wrapped her arms around Grant’s neck to pull him slightly closer to her, Grant moved his arms to wrap around her lower back, pulling her as close to him as she could get.

Britta played with Grant’s hair as she kissed him, and the thought of anything else other than her was far from his mind.

But then, almost too soon, her lips were no longer touching his own. Grant opened his eyes to see Britta staring at his chest as she was still in his arms, unmoving.

“Britta?” Grant asked her, breaking her out of whatever daydream she was in for those few seconds. Grant could feel his heart beat quicken its pace as he realized that maybe he had it all wrong. Maybe Britta actually didn’t feel what he felt for her. He knew that he couldn’t handle that embarrassment.

“Well, this was great,” Britta tentatively smiled at him before taking a step back and motioning towards deeper in the dense forest. “But I just realized that I have to meet with Kato and Hann for this thing, so I’ll call you or something.”

And before Grant could say anything else or ask her to stay, Britta shifted into her wolf form and took off, never looking back at Grant.

Grant stood there in the little forest clearing where he and Britta kissed, wondering how so much had happened in just a few minutes. His heart was still beating, fast and intense, from the way he felt when their lips touched for the first time. He wished she was back with him. He wanted to kiss her again.

But the worry that she really didn’t feel anything for him crept into Grant’s mind, making him forget all about the kiss and the way he felt for her. As he stood in that little clearing in the dense forest, unmoving, all he could think about was whether or not Britta liked him like he loved her.

And from the way she ran off immediately after kissing him, he felt like she didn’t. And that wasn’t the self-esteem boost he was looking for.

CHAPTER 13

“I kissed Grant, and now I’m freaking out,” Britta said immediately when Thea opened the door. Thea stood in the entry way to her house, her pale blonde hair a mess and all over the place, her blue eyes squinting in the sunlight. Britta had forgotten that Thea was hungover. Hell, Britta had forgotten that she was hungover, as she was too obsessed with thinking about everything that had just happened between her and Grant.

“You’re gonna have to come in and start from the very beginning,” Thea mumbled, turning around and walking back into her house, leaving the door open for Britta. Britta walked in, shut the door behind her, and walked over to where Thea was lying face down on the couch, her head in a pillow. “I know I look like I don’t care. I do – trust me, I do. This headache is just killing me.”

Britta sat down on one of the other couches in the living room, noticing that the windows that usually had their curtains open to let in the natural sunlight where now shut closed, making sure that no sunlight entered the living room. Britta found the whole thing quite nerve wracking. The mansion, which used to be full of noise and light, now looked every bit as haunted and creepy as everyone, shifters and humans alike, in town said it was.

“Grant kissed me,” Britta started, shaking off the uneasy feeling of supernatural ghosts sitting beside her and listening to her ridiculous story. She could feel the uneasiness fading away to be replaced by utter embarrassment about everything that just happened. “And then I ran away because I didn’t know what to do.”

Thea slowly sat up, opening her eyes up slightly so she could stare at Britta in disbelief. Or, at least Britta thought it was disbelief. Thea was so hungover that her emotions just looked like she was sick and wanted to sleep in all day.

“Let me get this straight,” Thea began, shaking her head slightly and then lifting up her hand slowly so she could touch the pain that was beating its drum in her head. “You and Grant kissed, and then you ran off. You. The most badass person I know that looked Gabriel and death in the eye and taunted it. You ran off because you were scared and didn’t know what to do. You.”

Britta sighed and rolled her eyes. Thea had a point, but Britta couldn’t help it! Grant affected her more than anything, or anyone, else in the world ever had. And that realization freaked her out more than anything else ever would.

“I have no idea what I’m supposed to do in a situation like this!” Britta exclaimed, then apologized after Thea winced and moaned, both hands going to her head in pain. “I don’t know if you understand. I actually like Grant. Like, I like him. I’ve never felt like this before towards anyone, and I’m freaking out.”

“I have a question,” Thea paused, thinking. “How exactly did you leave? I mean, during your quick little make out sesh – how did you leave things with him?”

Thea sighed when Britta smiled tentatively at her.

“Please tell me you didn’t just run off,” Thea groaned, but Britta could see a slight smile forming at the corners of Thea’s mouth.

“What can I say?” Britta nervously, and embarrassingly, chuckled to her friend. “I don’t think I do well in relationship situations.”

“Obviously,” Thea droned. “Well, what are you gonna do?”

Britta stared at her, not quite understanding exactly what she was asking. Britta didn’t know what to do – that’s why she ran to Thea. Thea was supposed to help her. Thea was supposed to calm her down and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

“Can’t you tell me what I’m supposed to do?” Britta asked sweetly.

“You’re gonna have to figure this one out for yourself,” Thea laughed. “But, if you want a little advice? Go with your gut. With your heart. And if your heart is telling you that you need to run back into Grant’s strong arms, then I suggest you listen to that organ and tell your brain to shut up.”

“That’s easier said than done, though!” Britta groaned, grabbing a pillow and covering her face with it. She wished she could just go to Grant and act like everything was okay. She wished she could just open up to him. She wished a lot of things, but if she wanted to do that, she would’ve told him she liked him and was attracted to him a long time ago.

“Listen, before me and Kato got together, we denied our feelings and acted like nothing was different between us,” Thea told her. Britta straightened up and listened to her friend. “But that just made our friendship so awkward and horrible. We literally stopped talking to each other and hanging out because it was so awkward. Both of us were madly in love with each other, but we were using excuses on why we shouldn’t be together because we were scared. That’s no different than what you’re doing now. You’re scared.”

“I don’t want to be scared.”

“Then pick yourself up and go back to Grant and tell him everything you just told me. You’d be surprised at how being honest actually helps.”

Britta stared at her encouraging eyes, and before she knew it, she was on her way to Grant’s place.

CHAPTER 14

Grant was confused and hurt – and all he wanted to do was call Britta. He hated that she seemed to make him this way, and, not for the first time, he began to wonder how deep his feelings for her ran. Was he attracted to her? Hands down. But did he love her?

Well, love was a strong word. But for some reason, the word didn’t scare him as much as it used to in the past. Which was why he was more than a little upset over how Britta left him after he confessed his feelings and desire for her.

His phone ringing jolted him out of the daydream state he seemed to be in since he got home from the gym. As he walked to where he threw his phone of the couch when he first got to his house, he answered it immediately when he saw it was Lukas.

“Hey, man, are you doing anything tonight?” Lukas asked after Grant picked up and they both exchanged their pleasant hellos.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Grant told him as he settled into the couch, rubbing his face with his hand in exhaustion as he realized that he and Britta wouldn’t be going for their nightly run together for the second time in a row. He hated that he missed her this much. He hated that he had grown to rely on her more than anyone else. What had happened to him? “Why, what’s up?”

“You should come on down and hang out with us all at the bar later,” Lukas said.

Grant was about to respond when he heard talking in the back. Grant could’ve sworn that he heard Kato in the background – which would mean that Britta completely lied when she bolted.

“Who’s all going? And is that Kato in the background?” Grant asked him, trying to stay calm though his heart was beating quicker and quicker with each word he said.

“Yeah, it’s me and him and a few others that are gonna meet up.”

“I thought that Kato had some meeting with Hann… Is that later?” Grant winced when he heard how desperate he sounded. He really wanted the meeting to have ended earlier. Or maybe the meeting would start soon. He would take any option. He just wanted there to be something – otherwise Britta completely lied to him to get away from him. And he didn’t want to think that. He already knew that she freaked out, but lying just to get away from him?

That would mean she didn’t want to be with him at all. And he couldn’t think like that right now.

“Nah, he doesn’t have any meeting with Hann today,” Lukas finally replied after talking to Kato.

Grant sighed. Of course, there was no meeting. Britta didn’t like him – and she was making that loud and clear.

“Oh, I must’ve heard wrong,” Grant said, changing the subject immediately. A night out at the bar with the boys sounded exactly like what he needed today. “I’ll be there and meet with you guys later.”

They both hung up, leaving Grant alone with his thoughts of Britta and how she really didn’t like him. How fun.

He didn’t want to have to wait to go to the bar. He wanted to start drinking now, though one look in his kitchen revealed to him that he had no alcohol at all. He must’ve drank all of the whiskey bottles he normally had. He seemed to be drinking a lot, and for the last few weeks, he found himself having a drink almost every night. So much had happened in such a short time frame, and he knew that he had to get his drinking a bit more under control.

But this whole Britta thing didn’t help matters.

A knock at his door brought him out of his daydream funk and forced him to stand up and go see who was visiting. When he opened the door and saw Britta standing there, her blue eyes shining with emotion that Grant couldn’t quite decipher, Grant felt his heartbeat quicken. He didn’t know what she was doing at his place, and he couldn’t quite believe it, either.

For a split second, he imagined that Britta was there to confess that she actually did have feelings for him. That she actually wanted him as much as he wanted her. He made himself stop thinking that immediately. He didn’t want to deal with anymore disappointment. He didn’t think he could.

“What are you doing here?” Grant asked her. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what he could say.

“Aren’t you gonna invite me in?” She asked him, giving him a tentative smile. Grant sighed, running his fingers through his hair, and stepped aside, giving her room to walk past him into his house.

Grant lived in between the shifter bar and the little town in Maine full of humans. He tended to split his time in both areas, as before he got the job as a regular bartender at the shifter bar, he was working as a chef at the only upscale restaurant in town. When his mother died, though, he quit. He couldn’t bear to do much back then, and he was just now getting his feet back on the ground by working at the shifter bar.

He missed working in a kitchen, though. He wished he could go back and act like nothing had happened. But a lot had happened, which was why he was continuously at the gym, stretching and toning his muscles in each form. He wouldn’t be surprised next time someone tried to destroy his pack. No, he would be ready. And so would the rest of the Moonlight Pack.

Britta walked into his house quietly, and Grant wished he could read her emotions that covered her face. She wasn’t wearing the mask that she was earlier in the forest, and Grant was relieved. He hated that she felt, even for a second, that she had to hide herself from him. He never wanted her to feel like that again.

Grant closed the door behind them both, staying quiet as he walked her into the house more. They didn’t sit on either of the two huge couches that Grant had in his living room. Instead, they stood in the middle of the room and stared at everything but each other. Grant wanted to know what the hell she was doing here – and he also wanted to know why she completely lied to him earlier.

If she didn’t like him, why did she say the things that she said? And if she didn’t like him, why didn’t she just tell him so that he didn’t go and make a complete fool of himself?

“When you hear what I’m about to tell you, you’re gonna laugh,” Britta finally told him, that tentative smile still on her face. She shrugged, and Grant could see that she was struggling with the words to say. She looked like she was trying to open up and trust him, but she was having a hard time.

He could relate to that.

“Is this about earlier? In the forest?” He asked her, deciding to take a chance. Maybe he was just thinking of the worst possible outcomes. Maybe it really wasn’t going to be as bad as he thought.

For a quick second, he imagined that Britta was here to tell him that she actually did have some feelings for him. He could only hope. But that hope alone was enough to cause his heart to lift in his chest in optimism.

Britta nodded her head to his questions, and the optimism grew. “I didn’t mean to run away like that. I still don’t know why I did it. But it wasn’t because of… you know. Well, it was, but not in like a bad way.”

Grant couldn’t help the slight smirk that landed on his face as he saw Britta uncertain and struggling for words. He’d never seen Britta act like this in any way. She was always so assured and witty, willing to take anyone down with her steely blue gaze in an instant. To see her uncertain and trying to apologize? Well, he was gonna have some fun with this.

“Well, how was your meeting with Kato and Hann?” Grant asked, crossing his arms and smiling. “Informative?”

Britta stared at Grant, squinting her eyes as she took him in up and down. She crossed her arms as she saw his smirk. She was quick. She had already caught on.

“You know?” She asked, not saying anything else. Grant’s smirk grew.

“I may have picked up on the fact that you lied to me.”

“A white lie isn’t a full-on lie.”

“A lie is a lie, my dear.”

Britta couldn’t help the smile that landed on her own face, making Grant’s smirk grow to a full-on smile, his teeth showing and all.

“I didn’t mean to lie,” Britta told him after a pause. “I may have freaked out slightly.”

“May have?”

“Okay, I did!” Britta laughed, and Grant didn’t know who to thank for this sudden turn of events. He had missed her laugh. He had missed her. “I don’t know what happened to me. I just freaked out and didn’t know what to do, I guess. I didn’t mean to blow you off or make you think that… well, you know. I just didn’t know what to do and needed to get some fresh air. And talk to Thea, of course.”

“And what did Thea say?” Grant asked, taking a small step forward, his heart beating at an insane tempo in his chest.

“She told me that I should just be honest with you,” Britta confessed, looking into Grant’s eyes and not breaking eye contact. Her blue eyes, which were once uncertain and scared, now stared at him with such determination and confidence it made Grant get chills. Things had definitely changed between them. And it was taking every ounce of self-control that Grant had to not take her in his arms and kiss her like she’d never been kissed.

“So, be honest with me then,” Grant told her, and it almost came out as a whisper.

Britta didn’t say anything. She just smiled, looked down for a second as if to reassure herself that everything was going to be okay, and took a step forward. Grant stared at her, not moving an inch.

Britta walked towards Grant until she was only a step away from him. Their breaths intermingled from their closeness, and Grant made sure that he kept his self-control in place. He wanted Britta to be the one to do this.

And he couldn’t quite believe this was even happening. It was like every dream that he had been having for the past few weeks were suddenly becoming true before his very eyes.

And slowly, very slowly, she reached up so that her lips touched his in one of the most passionate kisses he’d ever received. It was ten times better than the one they had in the forest – and that one knocked his socks off, too.

Grant gently pulled Britta closer to him, and he deepened their kiss when she wrapped her arms around his neck. Their bodies were touching in every area, and desire began to flare up in Grant’s body as he realized what was happening.

In the matter of a few seconds, things had heated up and progressed between the two. They fell on the couch behind them, Grant falling on top of her softly, both of them knowing that they didn’t have the time to walk all the way back to the bedroom. They wanted each other now. And they had been waiting so long for this to happen. Those days where Grant just watched Britta from afar were like torture.

And now, he was getting some much needed relief from that torture.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Grant murmured in her ear as he caressed her neck. Hearing her slightly moan from pleasure as his hands roamed her body made him almost lose control right then and there. He wanted her so bad, and his mind was still wrapping around the fact that she wanted him.

Grant’s heart began to beat fast when Britta’s hands played with his t-shirt hem, ultimately flinging it off of his body and onto the ground. Things were moving fast, but both of them craved each other. They had been waiting for this to happen for so long.

Grant and Britta undressed themselves slowly, very slowly, each of them savoring seeing each other’s bodies naked for the first time. When both of them were finally completely undressed in front of each other, it was like they could no longer hold back any of the passion that they had been holding back from each other for weeks.

Their eyes and hands roamed over each other, both of them discovering the pleasure that they had denied each other for so long.

“I want you,” Britta told him quietly. He, again, almost lost it right then and there.

Britta’s hands caressed his abs, and when he leaned in closer to her and she felt his hard desire against her, she moaned. She began to caress his hard desire for her, giving him a form of bliss that he had never had before.

After their hands were done discovering every inch of each other’s bodies, she pulled him closer to her, inviting him in and telling him that she wanted him over and over again. He entered her slowly at first, and then all at once, both of them making pleased sounds. Her little pleasure encouragements she was giving him made his desire harder and harder.

“God, you make me crazy,” he told her, breathless and he thrust into her again and again. And when she told him to make it harder and pick up the pace, he gladly obliged.

When Britta finally cried out in pleasure, Grant himself lost control as he felt her clench around him. They both fell back onto the couch when everything was said and done, this time with Grant on the bottom, and with Britta laying on top of him, her head resting on his chest. Grant watched her as her breathing began to slow with inactivity. He thought she looked beautiful laying there, clutching his chest as if she never wanted him to leave her.

They were both sweaty, but they clutched each other like they never wanted to leave. Their legs were intertwined as they lay their naked on the couch, with no blanket or anything covering them. Grant hoped no one walked in unannounced. That would be quite embarrassing.

Grant couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around the fact that he had Britta laying with him. And they had just had sex. And she seemed to be just as crazy about him as he was about her. It was like he was in a dream. He was floating on air. He was experiencing every little crazy emotion that he had, and he loved it.

He looked down at Britta again, who was now looking up at him with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his life. Her blue eyes shone back at him with happiness.

He realized that he had never been happier before in his life.

CHAPTER 15

Britta couldn’t believe everything that just happened. She felt like she was floating on air.

She was currently laying on top of Grant, in basically every way possible. They were still on the couch, and how they managed to stay on top of it during the whole thing made Britta laugh. Everything was falling into place almost perfectly. She couldn’t believe it.

“Why are you laughing?” Grant asked her, chuckling as well.

“We couldn’t bear to make it to the bedroom, could we?” She asked, smiling up at him. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw how gorgeous he looked laying there with her.

They lay there together for a few minutes more, both of them falling into a comfortable silence as Grant played with her hair. Britta realized that both of them were in this happy state of shock and bliss. She, for the millionth time that hour, couldn’t believe everything that had progressed between them.

She was so happy.

And now she just had to find out if Grant was in this for the long run like she was. She sure hoped he was. She didn’t know what she would do if he wasn’t. She decided to take that leap and actually be honest with him – and figure out where he stood in their relationship. There was no point in going back to that immature friendship that the two had where they wouldn’t confess their feelings to each other. Things were obviously very different between them now.

And Britta was beyond pleased with that fact.

“So…,” Britta began, trying to gain the confidence to just come out and ask him. “What are we?”

“What are we?” Grant repeated, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, Grant,” she rolled her eyes, though she still had that pleased smirk on her face. She didn’t think she’d ever get rid of it. Not after everything they just did.

“Well, I’m in this thing for the long term if you are.”

Britta looked up at him and saw him gazing down at her with an unreadable look in his eyes. Gosh, she loved that look. It gave her the chills. It made her heart quicken. It made her want to kiss him and never stop.

His words eventually sunk in once she was done processing how handsome she thought he was. She smiled even bigger as she realized that she wanted that, too. She wanted to be with him – and she didn’t want anyone else to be with him. She just needed him in her life, and she was good for the rest of her existence.

“Good,” she replied to him, squeezing his body closer to hers. “I’m in long term, too. And I think we should always just be honest with each other, even if we’re embarrassed or don’t want to be.”

“What? You didn’t like our little middle school dance around our feelings?”

Both of them laughed, and Britta playfully hit his chest. It was crazy to think that, only a few hours ago, they were both being so weird and immature about their feelings with each other. Now, they were actually being honest and open with each other. And they’d never truly done that before with each other. It was a refreshing turn of events for both of them. Britta was so happy.

“No, I wasn’t a huge fan,” she laughed at him, shaking her head. She felt sleepy, and all she wanted to do was fall asleep on Grant’s chest. And wake up with him still there.

“So, this means that we’re… an exclusive thing. Right?”

“Right.” Britta looked up to see him smiling down at her still. “Unless you’d rather not…?”

“Oh, I think we should be exclusive. We don’t want another Finn jealousy thing happening, do we?”

Britta burst out laughing as she remembered how jealous Grant was over nothing. She couldn’t help but love his crazy jealous side, though. Especially because that was when she realized that maybe there was something more between them than just friendship.

“Oh, no. I think us being exclusive would just be the smart thing to do.”

“Oh, it’s very smart.”

Grant pulled Britta into a kiss, and they would’ve initiated round two if her phone didn’t ring.

“Don’t answer it,” Grant begged her, a smile on his face, as she got out of her grasp and walked over to where her phone was on the floor. How did it end up there?

“It’s Kato,” she said, answering it after rolling her eyes at the desperate look that Grant was giving her, trying to make her laugh. She put her finger up to her lips to tell him to shut up, to which he reluctantly did. Both of them were smiling like they hadn’t in years.

“Britta,” Kato said after they both said their hellos over the line. “Hann just called an impromptu meeting. He’s making it sound like it’s pretty urgent, but he won’t say what it’s about. He said to make sure you came, though.”

“Okay,” Britta said, immediately going into work mode. “He wants us there now?”

“Yeah, he said to come on over to his house. Michael’s there. I think his unanticipated arrival caused this meeting. But I’ll come pick you up at your house if you want me to. It’s on my way.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m not there. I’ll just meet you there.” Britta hung up the phone before he could ask any more questions. Like where she was and what she was doing. For some reason, she didn’t want the whole world knowing about her and Grant just yet. She wanted it to stay between them, as their own little secret, for just a little bit more.

She knew that this was going to be impossible, though. In this pack, everyone knew each other’s secrets. The good and the bad.

“I’m assuming you’re leaving,” Grant groaned from where he was still laying on the couch.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” she told him as she quickly changed back into her clothes. “But Michael showed up unannounced and Hann called a meeting. I have to be there.”

“No, I know. I’ll meet you after.”

And, with one more kiss and another longing glance from both of them, Britta left.

CHAPTER 16

Grant felt like he was walking on air.

He entered the bar with a permanent smile on his face. He didn’t think it would ever leave. For the first time in a long time, Grant was happy. And it was all because of Britta.

Lukas waved at Grant from across the way. Grant walked over and noticed that he was sitting with Annie and Finn. When Grant saw Finn, he stopped momentarily and debated on whether he should actually hang out with the strange shifter. Grant mentally cursed at himself after thinking this though. He was with Britta – not Finn. And after their conversation and everything that had happened tonight, Grant had nothing to worry about. Him and Britta were the real deal, and being rude to Finn would just be immature at this point.

If Grant was being honest with himself, it was immature how he acted to Finn from the very beginning. As he said hello to the group and sat down next to Lukas, he realized he was probably gonna need to apologize to Finn. And he really didn’t want to.

“Kato had to leave with Ethan,” Annie told him when he sat down. “My father called some meeting last minute for all the alphas to go to.”

“Yeah, that’s what Britta told me,” Grant said before even realizing what he admitted.

Lukas definitely caught it, though.

“Oh, you and Britta hanging out pretty late together, no?” Lukas asked him, smirking and very clearly holding in a laugh. When Grant looked over at Annie, he realized that she was also trying not to laugh. Finn was the only one, other than Grant, not finding this funny.

“I’m not saying anything to you two children,” Grant replied, deciding it was better to keep his mouth shut than to spill everything that just happened. It was still new, and he wanted to keep the whole relationship between him and Britta alone for a little bit longer. “I’m gonna go get some beers for us.”

“I’ll go with you to help,” Finn jumped up with a friendly smile on his face. Grant nodded and they walked over to the bar and ordered four beers for their group.

“Listen, man,” Grant began as they waited for their beers. “I wanted to apologize for everything that went down earlier. I was a total dick, and I shouldn’t have freaked out on you like that.”

“There’s really no reason you should apologize,” Finn told him, shaking his head. “I didn’t know that Britta and you had a thing. But one talk with literally anyone in your pack, and I realized that you two are like the chosen couple or something. Everyone wants you guys to be together, and I’m assuming you guys are now. So, that’s great – I’m just sorry we started off on the wrong foot.”

“I just hope that we can put this whole dumb situation behind us,” Grant smiled at him. He hated apologizing, but Finn was actually a pretty straightforward and chill guy. Maybe him and Grant would even end up being friends down the road.

Finn agreed that they should just forget the whole thing even happened, and the two new friends walked back to the table where Annie and Lukas, ever the lovebirds, sat in wait for their cold beers.

“Man, if you didn’t slip up, I would’ve said something,” Annie said as they sat down again, a smile on her face. “Cause you have Britta’s scent all over you.”

“I left to get away from this conversation,” Grant groaned, though he was smiling. “I’ll leave again if I have to.”

“Okay, okay,” Annie laughed with Lukas and Finn. “We won’t say anything else. Promise.”

“Why did Hann call a last minute meeting?” Grant asked Annie. If anyone knew, it would be her. She was his only child, after all, and the two were very close. “Did something happen that we don’t know about?”

“Well…,” Annie trailed off and took a swig of her beer, obviously trying to calm herself slightly and think about what she was going to say. “Michael showed up unannounced. I’ve learned that him showing up out of the blue is never really good for us.”

Grant nodded, a sense of fear striking his body all over. He thought of Britta, and he hoped everything was okay where she was. Because Annie was right: Michael, the Elder that kept an eye out for anything dangerous or potentially harmful to the Moonlight Pack, never just showed up. He ran a tight schedule, as did Hann, so the little impromptu meetings always sent fear waves through the pack, regardless of how big or small the issue was.

It was sad when Grant realized that Michael was in Maine more often than he wasn’t. Times weren’t great. Everyone knew that. But the pack had seemed to grow immune to what used to be a panic. The Moonlight Pack shifters seemed to just be used to rogue uprisings and potential murderers trying to enact some sort of revenge.

Grant hated that they had all become accustomed to this new world.

And he desperately wanted to call Britta and just make sure that she was okay. Now that they were truly something, though he still didn’t know what, he felt a constant stream of concern regarding everything she did.

It seemed to just then, right in that moment as the group talked about why Michael could be in Maine, hit Grant that Britta had a very dangerous job. She was to be the right-hand man to the next alpha in line – an alpha that, in this day and age, faced constant threats from outside rogues because of his relationship with a human woman.

Grant zoned off, though he nodded and at least attempted to listen to the conversation and contribute. He couldn’t stop thinking of Britta, though.

CHAPTER 17

“I smell Grant all over you,” Kato fake whispered to Britta as she walked into Hann’s house. She swiveled around and elbowed him in the gut where he stood behind her. She smiled when she heard him grunt softly from the blow.

Her face was red. Her mind was swirling with what she was going to say. But there was a huge smile on her face that hadn’t left since she got to Grant’s place. She didn’t think it was ever going to truly leave. She was happy. And when Kato saw her face, he sent her his own smile and pulled her into a half hug. Kato had been rooting for Britta and Grant to get together from the very beginning, and Britta felt like she should thank her friend for the advice and friendship he had given her, helping her get to the point where her and Grant could be together, happy, and in love.

Britta and Kato walked together deeper into Hann’s house, which was very quiet for the time of night. Ross was sitting on one of the couches and nodded when he saw the two walk in. Ethan walked in right behind the two, sitting on the couch with them. Britta, for a slight second, was surprised to see Ethan was there. But then she realized that he was an alpha, and he should be at these meetings so that he wasn’t in the dark.

Hann walked in with Michael and smiled when he saw the group before him. Britta felt like maybe the news wasn’t going to be as bad as she originally thought because of the easy-going smile Hann had on his face – though Hann always seemed to have that smile on his face.

“Hello, Britta,” Hann said, smiling at her as he walked into the living room. “I see Grant and you are doing well.”

Britta groaned and covered her face in embarrassment and Kato and the whole room burst out laughing. She couldn’t believe her alpha just said that. And she couldn’t believe she didn’t think to shower or do something to try and get Grant’s scent off of her. The whole night had just been a whirlwind, and she felt like she was still living in a dream. An embarrassing one, at the moment.

Britta could’ve swore that she felt Michael start laughing in that weird, whispery way the Elders communicate. Michael’s friendly laugh was so much better than the last Elder she heard laugh: Gabriel. His evil laugh in the forest as he tried to take Thea away still haunted Britta’s nightmares.

“We have called you all here last minute because there has been some recent development in a big uprising that is being organized as we speak,” Hann told them when everyone settled down. He sat down on the couch across from the four other shifters, his forearms resting on his knees as he leaned forward. Michael stood standing at the corner of the couch, his black robe and hood making every single part of his skin hidden.

“I believe I know where Gabriel is,” Michael told them when Hann motioned that he could talk and tell them what was said between them earlier in private. “I also believe I know what Gabriel is attempting to do.”

The four shifters seemed to sit forward in anticipation. This wasn’t bad news – this was good news. This means that they were one step ahead of their enemies, and they could watch them and learn exactly what their plans were. Everyone seemed to be holding in their excitement as they realized that they could be putting a stop to the hell they’ve been living in for the past few weeks.

Maybe everything would turn out okay in the end. Maybe everything horrible that had happened in the last few weeks would’ve been for a reason – and now, they would be the winning side. They would finally defeat the closedminded shifters and Elders that just wanted to bring destruction to the shifter society. They would finally win.

“Tell us,” Kato said, excitement clearly in his voice. Britta looked over to see his eyes shining. This was huge news for Kato. Gabriel had been the sole Elder to try to take Thea away and either kill her or wipe her memory because she was a human in the shifter world who knew more than she should. Kato had been longing for revenge and justice since that happened, and the idea that justice was within reach was enough to make him start thinking of all the possibilities his downfall would bring.

Maybe the society would eventually go back to how it was: a peaceful society.

“We’ve – the Elders left that didn’t leave with Gabriel – been tracking the movements of certain rogue shifters,” Michael began, folding his hands together in front of him so that Britta saw a quick flash of pale white skin. “There are some rogues out there that have a specific shared ideology. They are not insane killers like some are. They are calculated, and they have a hatred towards what we have been progressing towards. They’ve always been on our radar, since this has been an issue for a while. We just didn’t think it would get to the boiling point that it has gotten to currently.

“We saw an interesting travel movement by one of these shifters that we’ve always kept an eye on. He went to Scotland for no apparent reason for a few days, and then came back to the States. He has no connections in Scotland, and it seems he left no evidence that he was even there. He knew where he was going, and he made sure no one, like the other packs there, saw him. And then, when he came back to the States, something very interesting happened. He didn’t go back to where he was staying before. He went to Michigan.

“Now, this shifter has never been to Michigan. We started to do our research, and we discovered that this shifter, and a few others, are organizing a huge rogue uprising that has very expensive backing. They talk as if they are one step ahead of all of us – and they talk of a leader that is one of the strongest beings around.”

“Gabriel,” Kato nodded. Britta got the chills, as did everyone else in the room. The only one who might not have been affected was Ross, as he sat in the chair and just stared attentively at Michael and the group. The guy was so cool, calm, and collected. Britta hoped she would be able to master that self-control one day when she served as Kato’s right-hand man.

“Exactly,” Michael nodded. “There’s been a huge number of rogues moving to Michigan in the last few days and weeks. We knew this, of course, but there was the hope it would turn out like the other uprisings have – in their own self destruction. There’s the worry that this won’t happen this time around. With Gabriel’s help and backing, there is a much greater chance that this small uprising will rise and cause massive destruction. Destruction like we’ve never seen before.”

“Well, what are we going to do, then?” Ethan asked Michael and Hann. “We know what they’re doing and what they’re planning. How do we act now?”

“We have to be careful,” Hann told him, nodding. The smile was still on his face, though it wasn’t as big as it was before. “This could be our chance to get Gabriel once and for all. But if we act too fast, or too loudly, we’ll scare him off. We need to make sure that we have him there before we do anything too drastic.”

“That makes sense,” Kato nodded, scratching his face in nervousness, it seemed. “We need to make sure that he doesn’t know we’re on to him. So, we’re just gonna watch as all these rogues band together and attempt to bring destruction to all shifters in the world?”

“We’re not gonna just sit on our hands, Kato,” Hann told him, that easygoing smile back and comforting everyone around him. “Trust me. That’s the last thing any of us want. We just want this over, however, even if Gabriel is gone, that won’t just wipe out all the hate. Hate breeds in different places, and when anyone has the chance to attack some that are different to make themselves feel better, they will.”

“So, what are we going to do, then?” Ethan jumped in, his eyes concentrating on possible things that they could do to help.

“We’re going to send in some spies,” Hann said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs, as if he was just talking about what he was going to have for dinner. Hann looked straight at Britta when he said this, and she kept his eye contact, though she knew her face was full of confusion.

“If you would be so willing,” Michael stated, making Britta’s head snap up to meet his masked appearance. “We have chosen you, Britta, and Lukas as our two reconnaissance members.”

Britta didn’t know what to say. Her mouth was hanging open in disbelief, though she shut it quickly so she didn’t seem too ridiculous. Her first thought went to Grant, which was ridiculous. This was a chance to help, and the fact that both an Elder and her alpha thought that she was good enough, and smart enough, to do this mission was crazy. She didn’t think she was anything special.

Did she really have what it took to accomplish this mission and bring an end to Gabriel’s mad reign?

She sure hoped she did. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins at the very idea. And it wasn’t like she would be alone. Lukas would be there, and she felt comfortable around him. She knew that he was good, and he used to be a rogue. They could do this. She could do this.

A smile lit up Britta’s face, and she nodded. She didn’t think she could speak from the adrenaline in her blood.

“Good,” Hann replied, smiling as well. “I will inform Lukas later tonight. I would like you two to leave in two days’ time, if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Britta nodded at him, breathing deeply.

They talked about some other things, and other small uprisings that had resolved themselves through self-destruction. Britta paid attention as best as she could, though her mind was elsewhere.

She kept on thinking how her life had changed so drastically. She was in the top-secret meetings with alphas and Elders. She was known by name by one of the oldest and most powerful Elders around. And she was being chosen to go on a mission by her alpha, a testament of his respect to her.

She felt like she was in a dream.

But then, her adrenaline seemed to dive down in a black pit, never to be seen again, when she thought of Grant. Just when things were getting good, and were right between them, she was going to have to leave on a dangerous mission. She didn’t know how he was going to react, though she hoped that he would be as excited and happy as she was. Something told her that he wouldn’t, though. He would freak out and tell her that it’s too dangerous.

And she understood why he would do this. She knew him better than he probably knew. He would think of his mother, and she hated that he would make those connections. A knife seemed to stab her heart over and over again as she thought of the pain he felt, feels, will always feel. And her going off on this mission probably wasn’t going to help.

But she needed to help out her pack. She needed to do everything that she could. She needed to make sure no one else dies like Grant’s mother did. She would make sure that these innocent deaths would never happen again. Even if she lost her life in the process.

She would make sure of it.

CHAPTER 18

Grant found himself anxiously waiting for Britta in the middle of the forest. She called him a few minutes earlier after she was done with the meeting Hann had called, telling him that they should meet in the forest for a run. They hadn’t run together in a few days, and Grant missed it. And he wanted to see her more than he would ever admit.

He was more than a little curious about everything that happened at the meeting. He felt cold all over from the fear that something bad was coming this way, though if anyone looked at him, they wouldn’t see that fear at all. He kept it well masked. He just didn’t want anything to happen to Britta, and he wanted to see her and hear her say that everything was going to be okay.

Grant heard a branch crack underneath the weight of someone’s foot. He swiveled around and smiled when he saw Britta walk through the dense forest and into the little clearing of green that he currently stood in. Her blue eyes were shining bright, and her long black hair was tied into her usual high ponytail. She was wearing all black, and Grant couldn’t help but think that she looked like an angel come to get revenge on someone or something.

Even in all black, she was an angel to him.

“Hey, you,” he said as she came closer to him. She smiled as he pulled her into his arms, kissing her with all of the passion that he had kept locked away during the few hours that they were apart. Man, if he was having a hard time being away from her for only a few hours, he was going to have to get himself under control.

“Is it cliché to say that I missed you?” Britta asked when they pulled away, still in his arms.

“It’s never cliché to miss me,” Grant responded, squeezing her to him. “I’ve been told I’m a missable creature.”

“I bet,” Britta rolled her eyes. She laughed though, which caused Grant’s heart to quicken in pace for a few seconds. He loved her laugh more than anything in the world.

“How was the meeting?” Grant asked, hoping his voice came out even and not at all flustered like he truly was. He had been imagining the worst possible situations for the last few hours, and he wanted Britta to tell him that everything was indeed okay.

“Okay, don’t freak out,” Britta stared. Grant’s heart dropped immediately, though he didn’t say anything and let her tell him while he stared at her in silence. “There’s this uprising in Michigan that is gaining more and more attention, and rogues from all over are setting up camp there. Michael thinks that Gabriel is the one that is funding and controlling everything there, and he thinks that, because we know this and we know that he is in Scotland right now, we have the opportunity to end this whole thing. Or, this whole thing with Gabriel at least.”

“Well, that’s great,” Grant said after a pause, a bit confused as to why he would freak out about that. He knew that there must be more she isn’t telling him. “There’s more, I’m guessing…”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Hann and Michael want me and Lukas to go to Michigan.”

“For what purpose, exactly?”

Grant felt his heart drop. Going to the place where there’s a massive number of rogues who want to bring destruction and murder to every shifter in the world? Yeah, that didn’t sound like something he wanted his girlfriend to go to.

His girlfriend… Was she even his girlfriend? He couldn’t imagine her being anything else, at this point.

“They want me and Lukas to go as spies. Gain some reconnaissance on what’s going on. See if we can find anything about Gabriel while we’re there.”

“Why can’t Lukas just go alone?”

Britta sighed and looked down. He knew Britta – she was probably ecstatic that she’s been given this opportunity from her alpha. She thinks that she’s gonna help every shifter and everything’s going to be fine.

But Grant’s been on the end result of what happens when things don’t go as planned. And even though he knows that he should be happy if Britta is happy, he kept on thinking of the worst thing that could happen. It’s a dangerous mission. And it could very well end in Britta’s death.

For a split second, Grant had an image in his mind of him holding Britta, who was bloodied all over and dead. Grant shook his head to get the image far from his mind, resulting in his looking back into Britta’s bright blue eyes.

He loved her. Realizing that she was leaving on a dangerous mission made him realize just how deep his feelings for her ran. He loved her more than he’d loved anything in this world.

“Everything will be okay, Grant,” Britta told him, smiling comfortingly at him and rubbing his arms in a soothing motion. It was like she could tell the personal turmoil he was going through in a matter of seconds.

“This is dangerous, Brit.”

“I know, but I’ll be with Lukas! He used to be a rogue, and Hann told me that he’s going to be doing the most dangerous part of the mission. I’m just there for backup and the survey the whole situation. That’s it. It’ll be over before you even realize it.”

“When do you leave?”

“Hann wants us gone in two days…”

“I don’t want you to go. But I’ll be here waiting for you when you come back.”

Britta smiled up at him, and it took Grant’s breath away. He realized that she wanted his approval, almost. She wanted him to believe in her and not argue – and he did believe in her and her skills. It was his own fear that caused his creative mind to imagine the worst. It wasn’t Britta, it was him.

“You wanna run?” Britta asked him, stepping away and pulling her shirt over her head. Seeing her with her shirt off made him want to do other things than just run, but the adrenaline of shifting into his wolf form made him smile and began to undress as well.

In the matter of a few seconds, both of them were naked and shifting into their wolf forms, their clothes lay scattered on the damp forest floor.

Britta took off first, her black fur blending in with the dense forest and keeping Grant on his toes and he tried to keep up. She was fast, he’d give her that.

They ran together, leaping over all the fallen twigs and branches, ducking under the branches that jutted out of the trees in places where they could very well knock them out if they didn’t duck. They began to tease each other like they normally did, but this time it was different. This time there was no hidden message they had for each other.

This time they were honest about their love and affection.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of them running around the whole forest, running miles and miles away from where they first started, they made it back to that clearing that held their clothes. Both of them were exhausted physically, but not mentally. The adrenaline that shifting into their wolf forms brought never seemed to tire them out. In fact, it just gave them more excitement to go out and do anything. Everything. It was like going out and partying, but never wanting to leave the bars or clubs because you had so much energy from the alcohol and atmosphere.

Britta and Grant walked out into the clearing, both of them shifting into their human forms and standing before each other naked. Britta didn’t need to hide herself from him anymore, obviously.

She stood and stared at him, a glimmer in her eyes. Grant knew exactly what he was suggesting as he walked over to her, pulling him to her and kissing her as they fell to the forest floor.

CHAPTER 19

When the day finally arrived, Britta found that she didn’t want to leave. She wanted to go and complete this mission for her alpha, of course – but she didn’t want to leave Grant.

They had been living in complete bliss for the last two days, never really leaving Grant’s house unless they had to go teach classes at the gym or Britta had to go and talk to Hann and Michael about the mission she was on with Lukas. They ran through every scenario that could happen, and Britta felt confident that everything would be okay. Lukas also reassured her that they would be fine – and he reassured Grant, who everyone seemed to know didn’t approve of the situation.

They were standing out in the front of Grant’s house, prepared to say their goodbyes to each other. Britta hated the finality that seemed to surround them. This wasn’t their last goodbye or anything – so why did it feel like it?

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Britta told him, smiling up at him and trying to blink away the water that was forming in her eyes. She didn’t want to cry, but she was finding it harder to keep her emotions at bay with Grant. She just trusted him so much.

“I’ll be here waiting for you, Brit,” Grant said as he pulled her into a kiss. Britta didn’t want to leave his arms. Pressed up against his body, she could forget that there was evil in the world. She could pretend that she didn’t have to go on this mission, one of the deadliest things that she’s ever done in her life. When she was with Grant, everything in the world was good.

And when she left his arms and felt the cold air hit her, she knew that she had to leave. Realization and reality came flooding back, and she knew that she would always remember their two days of bliss, locked away in his house with only each other and his bed.

“Don’t forget about me while I’m away,” she chuckled as she backed out of his grasp and started walking to her car. Neither of them wanted to actually say the word “goodbye”, so they simply didn’t.

“Britta, wait,” Grant said, making her stop and turn around. He walked over to her and kissed her again. She felt like she was going to melt in his arms from the way he kissed her with such passion. She’d never been kissed like that before. “I just wanted to say…”

Grant looked so uncertain and unsure of himself, and Britta looked at him with confusion. What was he having such a hard time telling her?

“What is it?” She asked tentatively, smiling at him with encouragement.

“I love you.”

Britta stared at him in surprise, but she wasn’t completely shocked. She was happy.

“I love you, too.”

Grant pulled her into a kiss again, and Britta felt like she was in a dream. She never thought Grant would be able to open up with her like he just did – and she never truly thought that they would fall in love so fast and passionately like they did. But she was happy. She was happier than she had ever been in her life.

Britta stared at him, cupping his cheek in awe, when she pulled away. He had her in his arms again, and neither of them wanted to leave. But she had to. Her pack, her alpha, everyone, was relying on her and Lukas to go and get the job done. To try and finish this hell once and for all.

Britta stepped backwards and out of his embrace. They smiled softly at each other, neither of them wanting or needing to say anything else. They wouldn’t say goodbye. And Britta had to remind herself that it wasn’t a goodbye. It was just a small time where they would be apart. But Britta would come back, and they would be okay.

Everything would be okay.

Britta turned around and got in her car, refusing to let Grant see the tears that were forming in her eyes. She couldn’t bear to look at him as she drove away, but the image her mind conjured up of him standing alone in his front yard was enough to break her.

She cried the whole way to Hann’s house, which was where her and Lukas were meeting with him and the rest of the alphas for one more meeting to go over everything they had to do. When she pulled up to his house, her tears were gone and her makeup was reapplied so that no one would be able to tell the struggle she had just gone through.

She hated the fear that she now had coursing through her veins as she stepped out of her car and walked up to the front door of Hann’s house. Maybe it was nerves and the fact that she was actually going to do this, but she hated that her conscious waited until right before she was to leave to have fear course through her mind. She was afraid. It was that simple.

And she hated that it was that simple.

Britta walked through the front door, pausing slightly as she saw Annie and Lukas hugging in the entryway. She nodded at them and smiled slightly as she walked past, trying to give them their space as they said their goodbyes to each other. Britta felt a pain in her chest as she saw Annie’s watery eyes. Those two had been through a lot, and Britta almost didn’t want Lukas to go so that he could stay with her and be safe.

Britta entered the living room and said hello to Hann and Michael, who were both sitting on one of the couches together, talking. Ross was in the corner of the room making a pot of coffee for everyone. She smiled at him as she sat down on the couch opposite her alpha and Michael. She didn’t need coffee this morning. It wouldn’t be good for her nerves.

“I just want to start by thanking you for doing this, my child,” Michael told her. Britta looked at his hidden face and smiled. She hoped that she was looking in the general direction of his eyes. It was hard to tell, though. She couldn’t see his face at all, those the emotions that surrounded him seemed to be friendly.

She remembered the emotions that surrounded Gabriel that fateful night in the forest with Thea. Those emotions and thoughts were nothing but evil. She found it crazy that two Elders, Michael and Gabriel, were so different from each other. Weren’t all Elders supposed to be similar?

“I’m just happy that I can help in any way,” Britta responded, smiling tentatively at the two powerful men in front of her. She still couldn’t believe that they thought she could help them out in any way. It was crazy. It was unbelievable. But it made her happy and more motivated than she’d ever been in her life.

Maybe this is what she was meant to do with her life. For as long as she’d been alive, she never knew what she wanted to do. When she became an adult and had to start working to make a living for herself, she took odd jobs here and there. Nothing seemed to interest her. Until she realized that her fighting skills and strategy thinking actually helped people.

And now she was going out on a mission for her pack. She felt like, for the first time in her life, she was finally doing something that mattered.

Lukas finally joined the group. Annie wasn’t with him, and Britta assumed she left after saying goodbye. Lukas seemed to have a mask over his face, as to not show the emotions that he was truly feeling. He seemed fine, but Britta knew him better than that. He loved Annie more than anything in the world, so leaving her to go on this dangerous mission probably wasn’t great for either of them.

Hann smiled at him, patted his back, and then launched into what the two had to do. They’d been over this plan multiple times, and both Britta and Lukas knew it by heart. Hell, Britta could’ve told it backwards to Hann if he asked. But Britta liked that they went over it together one last time. It helped set her at ease, and Hann’s easygoing smile that he always wore was in place, too. By the time her and Lukas got into his truck, she felt more at ease than she had been when she first got to Hann’s.

The two shifters said goodbye to Hann and Michael, and then they were off. They were driving to a certain point, and then they would travel the rest of the way on foot. They hadn’t decided whether they were going to go in their human or wolf form. They needed to scope out the area where these rogues were before they went in, guns blazing.

They were also staying at a small motel that was somewhat near the point where they thought all these rogues were meeting in the forest. It was on the outskirts of a very small town on the east side of Michigan, so they needed to be careful where they were seen and what they did. Small towns tended to be more on alert when they had strangers roll on through their home. Lukas and Britta needed to make sure that they didn’t get on the humans watch list. Because if the humans became interested in them, it wouldn’t be long before the rogues found out who they were.

“I’m sorry you had to leave Grant,” Lukas said as they pulled out of their little town in Maine. It was early in the morning, and the sun was nowhere in sight yet. Britta loved the moments of the day like this, when everyone was asleep and the animals had yet to wake up, either. She breathed in the fresh air that came through the open windows of the car, loving the way the wind blew her black hair around her face. She loved Maine.

“I’m sorry you had to leave Annie,” Britta responded. She couldn’t think of anything else to say. It sucked that they both had to leave their loved ones, but it was only for a few days. And they would be back with them soon.

Britta knew that her and Lukas would’ve done this mission no matter what, though. Even though it meant leaving behind Grant and Annie, which sucked, this was an opportunity to help out their pack and every shifter around. And there weren’t a lot of people who could go and do this. Lukas was a former rogue, so he had connections and ways that no other shifter did. And Britta was experienced in reconnaissance ever since she started watching and protecting Thea all those weeks ago.

They both wanted to do this. Maybe they even needed to.

Britta didn’t know which one it was, but she didn’t regret going on this mission.

That didn’t stop her from missing Grant with every ounce of her body, though

CHAPTER 20

Grant shouldn’t have let her go. What was he thinking?

Grant shook his head as he paced in the living room of his house. He couldn’t believe that he just let Britta walk away from him to go off on some dangerous mission that could very well end in her death. He didn’t even put up a fight!

Grant almost threw himself down on his couch, his head in his hands as he went over their goodbyes. He should have said more. He should have accurately told her how much she meant to him. “I love you” wasn’t enough in this situation, though the way she looked at him after he told her it made his heart still quicken with affection.

Grant sighed as he tried to calm himself down. He needed to get his act together. Sitting here and stressing about Britta, when she’d only been gone for less than an hour, wasn’t going to make things better. It was just going to result in him freaking out over nothing.

Because Britta was good at her job – he knew that. Everyone knew that. That was why Hann wanted her to go on this mission with Lukas. She was good, and she knew what she was doing. Grant was proud of her in that sense, but he wished she was in his arms right at that moment. He wished the world wasn’t full of evil people like these rogues that were forming an uprising. He wished Gabriel would just leave the whole thing alone.

But if Britta and Lukas were successful in their mission, then there was the huge chance that this whole thing would be over and done with soon. And Grant desperately wanted it to be over. He was getting annoyed with watching his back at every turn, or distrusting every innocent shifter that came to town from another pack to learn. He hated how jaded and horrible he’d become since Kaiser first came to town. Not that he was anything great beforehand. But at least then he trusted some people. Now, he was always on the defensive.

And he hated that.

Grant stretched out on the couch, yawning. It was in the early morning, and the sun had yet to come up. He hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. He held Britta in his arms as she quietly snored, and he couldn’t fall asleep with her. He just wanted to remember the way he held her, the way she breathed, the way she trusted him. The way she loved him. He never wanted to forget that moment.

He knew he was overreacting, but he couldn’t help it. He knew what it felt like to lose someone you love. He lost his mom, and he still wasn’t over her death. If she would’ve died naturally, or from some disease, he would’ve been able to grieve and understand it. But she was taken from this world through murder and carnage – and that he could never understand. He would never get over seeing his mother die before him at the hands of those rogues.

And now his girlfriend, the love of his life, was walking into the den of said rogues.

He felt like he was going crazy.

He knew that he loved her more than anything else in his life. He would always love her this much. And he decided, right then and there as he lay on his couch, going in and out of sleep from utter exhaustion, that he was going to ask Britta to be his mate. There was no one else for him. She got him like no one else, and she loved him even though she knew all about his horrible past.

She was his friend before she was anything else. And she loved him. He loved her. They were meant to be. If only she were here with him. Grant could almost imagine she was, and her scent came roaring back to him as if she had been gone for years. It was like he stumbled upon something she used to wear, and he would smell it to be reminded of all those memories they used to have.

He was being dramatic. She would be back soon. Everything would be okay.

And when she came back home to him, he would ask her to be his mate. And she would say yes, and they would spend their days intertwined on his couch, in his bed, on every surface they could find. On the forest floor if they had to, like that night not that long ago.

Grant breathed out again as sleep began to pull him under. He was exhausted. He felt like he hadn’t slept in years and years. Well, from the activities that him and Britta had been up to for the last two days, he hadn’t had a lot of time to sleep. He’d been preoccupied with something else…

No, everything would be fine in the end. Everything had to turn out okay. Grant wouldn’t accept anything else than Britta back home with him and in his arms. Britta would become his mate, they would be happy, and everything would be okay.

He could only hope. He could only dream. He could only wish that he was with her. He realized that he felt cold laying there on his couch without her in his arms. She made him warm all over. He only wished that she would return to him soon.

Man. He had it bad. He chuckled as he fell into sleep, beyond exhausted. He must’ve been really tired if he could sleep while his mind was so wired with fear and agony over potential things that could happen with Britta. Or to Britta.

And as he fell into that deep sleep, he only thought of her and how he wished she was in his arms.

CHAPTER 21

Britta and Lukas made it to Michigan in one piece. Now, the hard part began.

Britta was currently waiting at the motel where her and Lukas got a room. It was on the outskirts of the town where there’s been recent rogue activity, and both her and Lukas knew that the rogue gathering couldn’t be too far into the woods that surrounded them. The motel was a popular road stop for travelers, so they wouldn’t draw too much attention. They just had to lay low. Get in and out. Get the information and make sure no one saw them.

Britta took in her surroundings. The motel was pretty bland, and just like your average motel on the side of a main highway. The two beds that Britta and Lukas weren’t going to sleep in – because they wanted this mission over with as soon as possible – had those stereotypical, colorful and pattern-y blankets draped over them. There were two pieces of art work in the motel that depicted sceneries of beaches. They were nowhere near a beach, so Britta found their theme to be a bit odd.

Lukas was currently out surveying the area where Michael told them the rogues seem to be gathering in the forest. Britta wanted to come with, but Lukas told her to stay and rest. He wanted to figure out what was going on and how many people were there before he acted. So Britta was left alone in the motel with nothing but her thoughts, which was never a good idea.

They seemed to keep on going straight to Grant. She missed him. She wondered how he was doing. Did he miss her? She hoped he did – because if she was the only one missing him in this scenario, she would have to rethink their little relationship, then.

She kept on smiling when she thought of him, though. His smile. The way he made her feel. The way he always kept her on her toes and made fun of her. Gosh, she missed him.

She wished Lukas would get back so that they could talk about what the rogues were up to. She needed something to do. She just kept on pacing in the motel room with the window curtains drawn shut so as not to let anyone see in. She felt like she was going crazy in the small room.

Just as she thought it, Lukas came barging through the motel room front door. Britta jumped slightly off of the bed that she sat on for a second. When she saw his serious face, she felt her blood turn to ice. Something was wrong. She could just feel it.

“What’s wrong?” Britta asked him as he shut the door and locked it behind him. “What happened?”

“The uprising is bigger than we thought,” Lukas told her as he got out his phone. “And things are progressing much faster than I’ve ever seen. I need to call Hann and tell him now.”

Britta sat across from him on the other bed as he dialed, her heartbeat quickening with every breath she took. She felt like everything was spiraling out of control with every thought she had. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to be this big uprising already. They were just supposed to learn information, and then be out of there. They weren’t supposed to walk into a slaughter.

“Hann,” Lukas began as Britta heard Hann pick up the phone and say hello on the other end of the line. “Things have progressed faster than we thought. There are more rogues together here than I’ve ever seen in my life. There are ten times as more as what Kaiser had. And they’re… well, they’re not as unstable and crazy as Kaiser’s group was. Well, they’re obviously crazy because they want to bring destruction and murder to the shifter world – but they’re not as unstable. They have a clear view of what they want and when they want it. And Gabriel’s hand is in this every step of the way.

“They regard him as some sort of god. They say that he’s the only one that listens to their pleas and their demands. The rest of the Elders, and the rest of us, just seem to banish them without listening to their stories. They’re angry, Hann, and they’re going to attack soon. We need to be prepared. Because right now? Well, we’re not.”

Lukas listened some more, leaving Britta trying to hear what Hann was saying on the other end of the line to no avail. She was left trying to get some sort of information from the two, but was left on the outside. In what seemed like hours later, Lukas hung up the phone and finally looked at her, his eyes haunted.

“Hann wants us out of here,” he told her. “Now.”

It was like those words broke some type of spell the two were in. They jumped up from the beds they were sitting on and started throwing the few things they unpacked into the two bags they brought. They hadn’t brought a lot, so they didn’t have much to pack.

In less than two minutes, they were out the door and checking out of their room. They handed the key to the man at the front desk of the motel lobby, who asked them why they were leaving so soon and if they needed any help. He stopped asking questions when he saw the vague answers and looks that both Lukas and Britta had and were giving.

They wanted out of Michigan. Now. And they wouldn’t feel safe until they were back home in Maine with their loved ones.

They started walking to their car, which was parked at the back of the motel near a trail to the forest that encased their view. Britta wanted to ask Lukas more questions, like how he found out all the information so quickly, but she was too nervous to say anything. You never knew who was listening.

Britta and Lukas smelled their scents before they came into view.

Three shifters – rogues, upon closer inspection – stood around Lukas’s car. It was the only car in the parking lot, and the three rogues were almost invisible because there was no light in this parking lot. All they had was the forest beyond them and the stars and the moon for light.

It was fine, though. Britta and Lukas could deal with this. They hoped.

They stopped walking to the car a few steps away, and Britta saw Lukas clench the handle of the bag he was holding. Britta realized that she was doing the same thing to her own backpack, and she forced herself to look as calm and natural as she wished she looked.

“You’ve been sniffing around things that you shouldn’t have,” one of the rogues said as he stepped forward. The moonlight hit him as he took a step closer to them and away from Lukas’s car, and Britta saw that he wasn’t that much older than her and Lukas.

The rogue had long brown hair that was tied back in a low bun, and it took everything in Britta’s soul to not make fun of it. Now was not the time for a funny, sarcastic joke. It just wasn’t the right audience.

“We were just passing through,” Lukas told them, not wanting to give the shifters any information about who they were and what they were really doing there. “We don’t want any trouble.”

“You don’t want any trouble, eh?” The shifter laughed. Britta saw the two other rogues behind their leader, one male and one female, tense as he took another step forward. Britta and Lukas both tensed, and Britta took in her surroundings to make sure that no one else was around. It looked like these were the only rogues in the vicinity, and Britta relaxed slightly. “I know exactly who you are.”

It was Lukas’s turn to tense now, and Britta almost wanted to shake her head in defeat. This wasn’t going to turn out good now.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lukas responded, refusing to out himself.

“You’re Lukas, the rogue that turned his back on his brothers and snitched on Kaiser,” the rogue told him, an evil look forming in his eye as he looked Lukas up and down. “Oh, we all know about you. Heard you have a pack and everything now. Oh, and you’re screwing a halfie.”

Lukas seemed to tense even more at the mention of Annie. Britta prayed he didn’t lose control and attack the rogues. They deserved it if they were planning a mass uprising, yes, but they had to be careful. They didn’t know what type of territory they were in, and there could be a number of rogues who could hear what was happening in the forest and come running out to help their friends.

And if that happened, Britta and Lukas wouldn’t make it out of Michigan alive.

“You have the wrong person,” Lukas told them, bracing himself for them to attack.

“Nah, I don’t think I do,” the rogue replied. He took another step forward, and both Britta and Lukas knew that they were going to attack the second before they did.

Their bags were on the ground and they were in a defensive position when they ran at them. Britta felt the adrenaline run through her veins as the female attacked her first, while Lukas had to defend himself against the other two male rogues.

Britta managed to block the first three blows the female rogue sent at her, and then Britta pushed the rogue so that she fell on her back from the blow. Britta finally managed to shift into her wolf form now that she wasn’t being attacked, and one glance in Lukas’s direction showed that the two rogues and Lukas had both shifted into their wolf forms.

Britta wondered why the rogues didn’t shift into their wolf forms when they first attacked. That was beyond odd.

Britta didn’t have time to dwell on it, because her own attacker was in her wolf form and ready to strike again. She was sloppy though, and with each bite or claw she tried to hurt Britta with, Britta blocked. In the matter of a few seconds, Britta had torn out the jugular of the female rogue that was attacking her. Blood was all over Britta, and she only glanced at the limp female on the ground to make sure that she was dead before she ran over to help out Lukas, who was still defending himself from the two males.

Britta jumped on one of the males, she couldn’t tell which, that was attacking Lukas, giving him some space and room to take on the other attacker with his full strength. This rogue was much stronger than his female companion, though. And when he saw that Britta had killed her, he went at her with such rage and emotion that it became difficult to block all of the blows.

Slowly, for every blow that Britta did block, another came that she couldn’t. And after a few hits she began to feel… well, weird. Dizzy. Like she was under some kind of spell. Which was weird and didn’t make any sense. But she continued to fight, and she got in a few good shots of her own. She was never able to take down her attacker though, and the rogue kept coming after her with such viciousness. She couldn’t believe this rogue used to be a member of the shifter society. There was just so much hate in his soul.

And, almost as if she was watching a movie, she felt everything start to go in slow motion. Her moves began to turn to jelly, and her mind began to tell her that it was a great time to go to sleep. She blinked her eyes, trying her hardest to stay awake. When she saw that Lukas had finally taken down his own attacker, she gained a little adrenaline boost that helped her stay awake for a few seconds longer. But something was off, that much she knew.

And when she looked down at her body, she figured out what was wrong.

She wasn’t healing. Normally, shifters heal much faster than humans, and when they are in their wolf form, it takes a lot to make them go down. Their healing pace is just so much faster than any other species. But Britta was bleeding from wounds that should’ve been healing by now – or they at least should’ve stopped bleeding. But she was still gushing blood from these wounds. That made no sense. No sense at all.

And then, Britta felt the cold pavement come up to meet her face. She howled out in pain, and right before she shut her eyes, she saw Lukas run up towards her to help.

Lukas didn’t know what to do other than get the hell out of Michigan.

Britta was bleeding in the backseat of his car, still in her wolf form and unconscious. And she wasn’t healing. He didn’t know what to do, and his heartbeat hadn’t slowed down at all since the fight.

He didn’t know how those shifters found him. All he knew was that him and Britta were lucky to get out of there alive. Although, he kept checking his rearview mirror to make sure that no one was following him. It could’ve been so much worse.

And it had the possibility of getting so much worse.

Lukas had just gotten off the phone with Hann, and he relayed everything that had happened as he sped away from the town, praying that nothing else horrible happened. Hann had given him an address of a safe house that they had secured just in case something like this happened. Lukas was on his way there right now, and Hann had told him that he was on his way as well. Michael should be there before everyone else because he is faster at traveling, and Lukas only hoped that he was. If anyone could heal Britta, it would be Michael.

Lukas couldn’t understand why she wasn’t healing. But one look down at his own wounds made him realize that there was something else at play here.

Because Lukas was in his human form and still bleeding from wounds he gained in his wolf form. And that simply didn’t happen. Whatever shifter magic there was that gave them the ability to shift into another creature also gave them the ability to heal themselves. But shifters never had the same wounds they did when they were in wolf form or human form. The process of shifting normally healed them when they shifted.

That’s why his wounds that covered his whole body was so weird. Because they were in the exact same spot of where he got them when he was in wolf form. And that just couldn’t be possible. It didn’t make sense.

But one look at the moaning Britta in his backseat, who was writhing in pain and not speaking, told him that something happened that they weren’t used to. And he only hoped that Michael would be there and be able to save Britta’s life.

CHAPTER 22

Grant was running through the forest, leaping over fallen twigs and branches, never once stumbling though he felt like he was running blind.

The last few minutes played back to him. The call with a worried Hann on the other end, telling him that there was a problem. And it involved Britta.

Grant howled as he ran faster, his fur blowing through the wind. He could feel Annie who was close on his heels, and Hann who was just up ahead with Ethan and Kato. All of them were running as if their life depended on it.

And, in a way, it did. To Grant, at least. Because Grant didn’t know what he’d do without Britta.

He should’ve never let her go and do this. He should’ve been firm and told her that she couldn’t leave and go on this dangerous mission. He should’ve told her that he loved her more. He should’ve never been such a dick to her all those days ago, before either of them would admit their love and feelings for each other.

He should’ve, he should’ve, he should’ve.

Maybe if he did any one of those, she wouldn’t be in whatever state she was in. Hann wouldn’t tell him, just that she was hurt and it was serious. Hann also reassured him that Michael was going to be at the safe house, a place that was halfway between Maine and Michigan. Grant hoped that he would get there and Britta would be all healed with just a scrape on her head and a smile for him.

He prayed.

He ran faster.

Grant stared to think of the worst possible outcome, even though he forced himself to stay away from these dark thoughts. What if she was dead? Grant wanted to howl with rage and anguish. She couldn’t be dead. She simply couldn’t. He didn’t know what he would do without her – he didn’t know how he was supposed to live without her when she had become such a big and important part of his life.

Grant forced these images from his mind when they finally arrived at the safe house, somewhere in the middle of New York. Grant stopped as they neared the house, all of them slowing down as they took in the atmosphere. When Grant sensed the panic and fear in the house before them, he wanted to howl again.

He wanted to be in there with her.

They all jogged through the open back door that Michael seemed to leave open for them. Grant got the chills when he saw the blood everywhere. And then, he saw Britta and his heart stopped.

She was in her wolf form, on the kitchen table, bleeding profusely. Michael was working slowly and calmly, stitching her up towards the shoulder area. Lukas was washing away some blood that she had near her back, while also putting what looked like medicine on her wounds to help clean it.

None of this made sense. Why where they treating her as if she was a human? Michael could use whatever Elder magic he had – and he had used it before when Kaiser had almost killed Annie. He had waved his hand, done his magic, and Annie had turned out just fine.

So, why was Michael not doing that now? And why was Britta in her wolf form – and not recovering?

Something was wrong, and every single shifter in the room knew it.

“Michael?” Hann asked, using the mental communication that all shifters had so that they could communicate while in their wolf forms. Lukas and Michael were the only ones not in their wolf forms, so they all communicated in this way.

Grant sidled up to where Britta lay. He didn’t know what to do other than stare at her broken, bruised, bleeding body. What had happened?

One look at Lukas, at his own bloodied human face, made him realize that something horrible had happened. And something that was unexplainable.

Grant saw Annie walk up, in her wolf form, to where Lukas was helping work on Britta. Grant could see the way Lukas eased up just by being so close and near to Annie. Grant wished he could calm down by just being near Britta, but she was in such a horrible state that all Grant felt was anger, sadness, and anxiety. And he couldn’t help in any way, which killed him inside.

“Something has happened that is most unusual,” Michael told the group using the mental communication link. He didn’t look up once from where he worked on Britta’s shoulder, his white pale hands moving as if they were choreographed. If it was under different circumstances, Grant would’ve said it was the most graceful thing he’d ever seen. Of course, all he could think about was Britta dying underneath those pale, choreographed hands. And that set him on edge once again.

“What’s happened?” Hann responded, walking around Britta and surveying her wounds as the two shifters worked hard and fast to heal her. It seemed that even Hann couldn’t help out in any way, which obviously made the alpha tense with anxiety.

“First of all, the rogues that attacked us have been taken care of,” Lukas said as he poured some more medicine over the gaping wound he was working on. Britta would need stitches there to patch herself up, there was no question about it. “But when we were fighting them, we both noticed that something was off. I could see the way Britta was acting, as she had the worst wounds of us both, and I knew that something was… weird. But I’ve never seen anything like this before. It just doesn’t make any sense. It doesn’t make any sense at all.”

“Michael, please explain to me what the hell is going on, and why my shifter is lying here on the table not recovering like she should be,” Hann said, rage and sadness in his voice.

Grant couldn’t imagine how he felt. Hann, as an alpha of so many, almost saw his pack as his children. He didn’t do well when said children die in battle, and Grant saw how devastated he was after Kaiser’s attack first hand. Hann alone helped Grant through his mother’s death, and seeing how bent out of shape Hann was from the shifters who died, though it was a small number, made Grant realize just how much his alpha cared about everyone – which was such a rare feat in this day and age. Grant knew stories about alphas in other places that, quite literally, don’t care and don’t have much to do with the pack.

Hann was completely different. And he was loved by every single shifter in the Moonlight Pack. Hell, he was loved by other shifters around the world, even ones who didn’t know him. The man was an icon. A legacy.

So, it was weird seeing how broken he sounded and acted right then and there as he took in Britta lying on the table and Lukas’s own unhealed wounds. There were so many unanswered questions. And he wanted answers. Now.

“There is something else at play here,” Michael began, talking to everyone in the room using the mental communication link. It was weird, though – even in their heads, the Elder still sounded like he was whispering loudly to all. It was such a weird paradox. “Britta is not healing normally like shifter should. And for that matter, neither of Lukas. Britta obviously had the most wounds here, sadly.”

“But how is this possible?” Grant jumped in, still confused. This has never happened before – so why is it happening now? Things didn’t make sense, and no matter how hard Grant tried to make the situation clearer, he couldn’t.

“I think there was something in their claws and their teeth,” Lukas said after a slight pause.

Everyone looked at him in confusion, as well as surprise.

“What do you mean?” Ethan asked. Grant had almost forgotten he was in the room. He was near the back, giving the pack the space they needed to mourn and figure out what was going on.

Grant looked at Britta and hated the way she was breathing uneven in pain.

“I mean, there had to have been some type of poison or magic or something that they coated their claws and teeth in before they attacked us,” Lukas said, and then jumped into why he thought this. “When I was surveying the area, before this all happened, I was hearing rogues say how this time they were finally ahead of the rest of the shifters. They finally had something where they could beat us. I thought they were talking about Gabriel, and how having an Elder on their side was going to change their losing streak. I think they were talking about this, instead, now that I’ve seen the consequences.”

“I have to agree with Lukas on this matter,” Michael added. “My own healing methods don’t work on this poor child now. It refuses to be healed by anything shifter or magic. She has lost so much blood that she can’t shift. But, as you can see, Lukas did shift and those wounds transferred from his wolf body to his human body. This is new territory, and the only way this could happen is if shifter magic is at play. And I believe that Gabriel is helping them with that.”

“So, there’s no way to heal her?” Grant asked, his heart breaking.

“Only the old-fashioned way,” Michael told him comfortingly. “The way that humans heal themselves, that is. Through long, hard work, and prayers. But I have a feeling she is going to be okay. This one doesn’t just give up the fight when it’s just started.”

Grant sat himself, still in his wolf form, right next to Britta, but out of the way of Michael and Lukas so that they could do their work. He couldn’t believe this was happening. It was like his worst nightmare was coming true, and he couldn’t do anything but watch. She could die.

He refused to think like that. Now, he would just think of positive things. He imagined her waking up, better than ever and ready to go for a run with him in the woods. He imagined her being able to shift in her human form, and then laughing at how it was just her luck that she was brutally injured on her first mission.

He imagined her okay. That was all he really wanted. For her to be just okay.

“Michael, if this is true, this is worse than we thought,” Hann told Michael, who solemnly nodded his head. “If all of those rogues out there have this magic, this poison, whatever this is, then they can really harm us. More so than before. And there’s already more rogues than we thought. This could turn out to be a slaughter – and we’d be on the losing side.”

No one in the room knew what to do. Hann had never talked like that. Hann was always the easygoing, laid back alpha that laughed with people and said that everything was going to be okay. To hear him talk like this now, and to sound so bleak and negative about their potential fight that was to happen soon, was crazy.

But he was right. He was being realistic. And everyone in the room had chills like never before.

This wasn’t going to turn out okay. Even if Britta pulled through and was fine in the end, those rogues were still coming for them. And nothing would ever be the same again.

CHAPTER 23

Britta felt like a garbage truck had ran her over again and again.

When she slowly opened her eyes, she shut them quickly again from the bright light that was all around. Was she dying? Was this what “follow the light” meant.

One more look out into the world proved that no, she wasn’t dying, and the white light that was killing her head was just a bedroom light that faded as her eyes became accustomed to the light. Her head still pounded in pain though.

Britta slowly took in her surroundings. She was in some bed, in some type of house, and Grant was sleeping in a chair next to her, his head resting on the bed by her. She smiled when she saw him, and her heart leapt with joy. What was he doing here?

Better yet, what was she doing here?

And then, the last few moments that she remembered before waking up in a strange house and a strange bed came flooding back to her, all at once. The fight with those three rogues that somehow recognized and followed Lukas. Her killing of one, but then her weird feelings as she fought the other one. Her wounds that wouldn’t heal.

Remembering those wounds, she had the weird desire to look down at her body. Which was crazy, because she was in her human body. She wouldn’t have those wounds. But low and behold, there those wounds were. The cuts, jabs, and scraps that those rogues gave her where still very much in plain sight.

Which was crazy. Impossible. Never heard of.

Why were these wounds, that she gained as a wolf, still on her human body? That… never happened. Britta’s heart beat in her chest a bit faster as she tried to make sense of everything else. She remembered falling to the ground, but she obviously didn’t die. She didn’t remember anything else at all.

She wondered how long she had been out. She hoped it hadn’t been too long. And where the hell was she? Whose house was this?

She didn’t want to wake up Grant, mainly because she knew that he was a cranky person when he hadn’t gotten his sleep, but also because she knew that he would tell her everything that had happened. And something about the truth scared her. She didn’t know if she wanted to know the truth.

She gave up and realized that she had to learn what really happened, so she gently nudged Grant awake. She felt pain crawl up her arm from the pressure, and she had to bit her lip so that she didn’t yelp in pain. She felt horrible. The fact that she could even move was crazy.

Grant slowly awoke, as if he was in a dream at first, but when he realized that Britta was up, in her human form, and smiling down at him, he snapped out of his dreary state immediately.

“Hey, you,” Grant said, a huge smile forming on his face as he took in her face, her body, every ounce of her. “You’re up. How are you feeling?”

“That was a shit question,” Britta laughed, rolling her eyes where she lay in bed. “I feel horrible. What happened?”

“I’m gonna get Hann so that he can fill you in,” Grant told her before he quickly left, returning with their alpha. Grant gently clasped her hand, and only squeezed it in comfort when Britta squeezed him, letting him know that it didn’t hurt.

“Hello, Britta,” Hann said as he sat down on the other side of the bed and smiled at her. “It’s good to see your awake and in your human form again.”

“Human form?” Britta asked, confusion in her eyes. “Could I not shift back to my human form earlier?”

“No, dear,” Hann replied, shaking his head softly. “You were too injured. When we put you in this room to rest, you were still in your wolf form. You must’ve shifted when you were sleeping.”

“Hann… What happened?” Britta had to know. Her curiosity was killing her.

And then Hann jumped in with the story of everything they learned, including what Lukas learned in Michigan as a refresher. Britta nodded and agreed that the magic poison, or whatever the hell it was that the rogues possessed, seemed to do the trick and make her incapacitated. This would definitely give them the upper hand in the battles, sadly. Britta couldn’t believe that Gabriel would go to these extremes, though. He obviously really wanted to bring about destruction and the downfall of the society that’s trying to progress without him.

“I don’t think I have any broken bones, though,” Britta told him, confused. She was fairly certain that she would’ve gained at least one broken bone in her fight with those rogues, though she felt no broken bones in her body. She felt horrible, of course, but she knew that she had nothing broken.

“Michael and I have been talking about it and throwing out some theories,” Hann said. “And your new state helps us prove one of the theories we’ve been talking about. I believe that the magic poison, or whatever these rogues have, doesn’t just stop the healing process in us. It definitely slows it down, though. For example, if we hadn’t stitched you up and stopped your wounds from bleeding, you would have died because your healing process had been momentarily slowed down. Maybe when you shifted into your human form, it helped speed up the process in regard to your broken bones. Also, it’s been a few hours – and time always helps.”

“And Lukas had wounds when he shifted into his human form as well?”

“That’s correct.”

“Hann… This isn’t good. How are we going to defend ourselves if they have an added incentive to kill us? They can really cause damage with this.”

“I know, my friend. But trust me. We will find a way to end up on top. We always do.”

And with one more smile and a wink, Hann got up and left, leaving Britta in a state of bewilderment.

Britta looked back over to Grant, who had the strangest look in his eyes. She couldn’t decipher it.

“Come here,” she motioned to him, indicating that he should climb up and cuddle with her in the small bed she lay in.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said tentatively, hesitating as he took in her bruised body.

“You won’t.”

Grant climbed into bed, and Britta helped him slide under the covers. He wrapped his arms around her, and Britta instantly felt warm and safe. The cold air of uncertainty was gone now, and she had Grant to thank for that. She had missed him so much. She was so happy that he was here with her. Where ever here was…

“Hey, where are we exactly?” Britta asked finally as she rested her cheek on Grant’s strong chest. She loved the way he felt. She loved his strong, steady heartbeat that threatened to lull her to sleep.

“Some house in New York that Michael and Hann use as a safe house or something, I guess,” Grant told her as she softly stroked her hair.

“Grant?”

“Yes, babe?”

“I think something horrible is going to happen. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know when it’ll be. But the atmosphere there? It was horrible. They’re planning something big, and I’m scared that we won’t all make it out. We need to be prepared.”

“We will be. We’ll go back to Maine and we’ll train like never before. We’ll make our whole pack get their asses in the gym to practice. We’ll be prepared, babe. We just have to be confident and realistic.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend? You know, the guy that is negative about literally everything? Where the hell did all of this optimism and positivity come from?”

Grant laughed as Britta smiled up at him. She felt her eyes soften with drowsiness, though she was determined to stay awake for a little while longer.

“I think, when you were asleep for a while, I began to refuse to think of all of the negative things I was thinking. I couldn’t bear it. I was going crazy waiting for you to wake up and say you were okay, so my mind naturally went to the most horrible thing I could think of. I decided that that line of thinking wasn’t helping anyone – especially me. So, I simply stopped, and I just filled my brain with positive things.”

“I love you.”

There wasn’t anything else Britta needed to say other than those three words that she felt with all of her heart.

Before she fell asleep in the arms of her loved one, she heard him say “I love you” back, making her smile before she crashed.

CHAPTER 24

It had been a week since everything happened, and Grant still felt like his life could change at any moment. He kept on having thoughts that Britta’s condition could make a turn for the worse, which was crazy because Britta was almost completely healed now.

They were back in Maine, and Grant was taking over Britta’s lessons at the gym so that she could rest. Lukas was also trying to get back in the best shape possible, and Michael made it clear that they would both make a full recovery. Thank god. Grant didn’t know what he would do if Britta didn’t.

Britta, for her part, turned out to be the worst patient in history. She kept on wanting to go out and run in her wolf form, or Grant would come home and find her cooking in the kitchen. She wasn’t supposed to be on her feet at all in the beginning, but no one could seem to get her to stay put. She was staying at Grant’s place so that he could take care of her, something they were both more than a little nervous about when they first decided it. However, they both loved living together. Grant hated her as a patient, of course, but he loved her and he would put up with her crazy BS any day of the week.

Grant knew that Hann and Michael had started spreading the information to all the other packs about what the rogues were planning – and, more importantly, the magic that they had on their claws and teeth that made it fairly easy to take down their opponent. They were telling the packs to try and keep it tight lipped, though. They didn’t want a rogue or a sympathizer to hear and then to go running to Gabriel or someone else and then tell them that everyone knew about their plans and their new weapons of choice. Michael wanted to try and trace Gabriel still, and he felt like he could if everyone just laid low and pretended to be oblivious.

Though everyone knew that once those bodies of the rogues Lukas and Britta killed were found, questions would be raised and Gabriel and his rogues would be on high alert. They probably already were on high alert. Michael and everyone had to tread very carefully.

“Hey, Grant,” Finn called to him from across the room. Grant had just finished up teaching a small class about different defensive maneuvers. Grant and Finn were now fine in every way possible, and Grant was, surprisingly, beginning to see him as a friendly face.

“What’s up, man?” Grant asked him as he walked across the room to talk to him as everyone else in the class began to leave.

“I was just wondering how Britta was doing,” Finn told him, sweat beading from his head. “I heard that she’s doing better, but I just wanted to know if I could do anything to help her out.”

“She’s doing better. But there’s nothing you can do. All we can do is wait. She says that she’s great and she plans on being back here next week to start her classes up again, so you guys won’t have to deal with my shitty teaching anymore.”

Both Grant and Finn laughed at that. Grant was a good teacher, but he was no Britta. And he knew that.

“Well, that’s good to hear. I can’t wait to hear her shit on me, time and time again. Can you believe I miss that?”

“The woman has everyone missing her – even the people who hate her. She considers it her gift.”

They both laughed again at the love that everyone seemed to have for Britta before Finn waved goodbye and left. Grant couldn’t believe everything that had changed in the last few weeks. He had started off hating Finn, for selfish reasons, of course. Now, he actually found he had a soft spot for the shifter from another pack. He never thought he would.

He never thought that he would be in love with Britta, either. And he sure as hell never thought that she would be in love with him.

Things had changed so much in such a short amount of time, but he wasn’t going to complain. He was in love and his girl was healing. He couldn’t ask for anything more than that.

CHAPTER 25

“A war is brewing, my friends,” Michael told the little group in Hann’s living room. Britta was with the usual alpha group (Kato, Ethan, Ross, Hann), but Hann had included some others (Lukas, Annie, Grant) because they were directly involved with the situation that had unfolded a week ago.

Britta was fine now. Hell, she was more than fine. She still hurt a little, sure, but she hated being cooped up and told to not do anything for 24 hours straight. For a whole week. She was ready to get back out in the world and do some good. Teach some shifters. And she couldn’t contribute to the war that was going to come if she was stuck in bed.

“I’m sad to say that word has reached us that the rogues in Michigan have disbanded and gone their separate ways,” Hann added.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Annie asked, confused for everyone in the room. Weren’t the rogues leaving and not forming the uprising good for everyone else?

“Yes and no,” Michael jumped in. “We believe the only reason that these rogues have gone their separate ways is because they had orders from Gabriel to. We believe the only reason he did this was because he knows that we know. Someone tipped him off. Maybe he got scared when he heard of the three rogue bodies that we left behind. It doesn’t matter how he got scared or left, but he’s gone and no longer in Scotland. We’re back to square one: we don’t know where he is.”

“And what are the rest of the rogues doing, then?” Britta asked.

“They’re lying in wait for their leader to give them orders,” Hann sighed, leaning back in the chair that he was sitting in. “The uprising isn’t over. It’s just momentarily disbanded for the time being. Gabriel is more than likely trying to find a new home. He’s scared. He’s worried that we know too much. He’s no longer a step in front of us. He knows that we’re preparing ourselves for what will come, and he knows that we know that he is using some sort of magic to try and let the rogues win this war. He knows that we are trying to make our own shifter magic poison like he did to offset what they have created.”

“And are we?” Kato asked. “Making some type of magic offset so that their magic doesn’t hurt us like it did to Britta and Lukas?”

“Yes,” Michael nodded his head in encouragement. “We are trying our hardest to find a counter spell or potion to make sure that those rogues can’t slice through our society while barely lifting a finger. If and when they strike, they will devastate our ranks. We have to do everything that we can to make sure that this doesn’t happen. This can’t happen.”

“So, is Gabriel a lost cause, then?” Ethan pipped up, asking the question that was on everyone’s minds. Everyone and their mother wanted Gabriel captured and away from leading this horrible, destructive movement. The realization that they were so close to capturing him and finding out where he was in Scotland, only for him to leave and realize that they were on to him, was devastating.

They were so close…

“We’re trying to find out where he is now, of course,” Michael told them. “But we no longer have a lead. And all of the rogues have gone to various parts of the world, so tracking them is going to be harder and less fruitful. That doesn’t mean we won’t try, though. We will try, and I believe Gabriel will slip up again. And when he does, we will be ready.”

Everyone sat in silence for a few seconds as they took in everything that Michael said. They could only hope that Gabriel would get cocky and slip up again. They could only hope. And hope they did.

“So, what do we think the other rogues are going to do?” Britta asked, confused. “I mean, they’re obviously still planning for an uprising, aren’t they?”

“Yes, we believe they are,” Hann told her. “But this is no longer just some rogues banding together. This is an organized front, led by Gabriel. He expects there to be results – results he likes, that is. These aren’t just rogue who are crazy. These are shifters that used to be a part of our society, and now just simply want to bring destruction to everyone. Just because they are waiting for a signal doesn’t mean that the uprising is over. The idea will fester, and there’s the possibility that more and more will go over to their cause. I only hope that doesn’t happen. When will the uprising take place? Or when will they start attacking? I have no idea now that they’re in hiding. The best we can do is make sure that we’re prepared when they do finally decide to strike. But this could be weeks, months, years in the making.”

So, the whole shifter society would just have to be on alert until something happened. Britta hated that they were going to have to live like this – but it’s not like it’s any different from how they were living, prior to everything. Shifters have always had enemies, whether it was rogues or humans who learned too much. They’ve always had people trying to bring destruction to their society.

Now, it just happened to come from within. Which was, obviously, never fun.

“Any good news from all this?” Lukas asked, making everyone bitterly laugh. Hann got that easygoing smile back on his face and it seemed to calm everyone in the room. Whenever Hann was serious, it always brought chills and uncertainty to the group. When Hann was his normal self, they could look at everything with a clearer, less frightened, perspective.

That was probably why everyone loved Hann and considered him to be the best leader and alpha a pack could have.

“We’re very nearly close to finding a way to protect ourselves from the magic that the rogues seem to have,” Michael told them, and Britta had that weird feeling that he had a smile on his face. The Elder exuded friendliness and positivity in that moment, and all the shifters in the room welcomed it. They could use some more positivity and optimism in their lives. “We believe Gabriel is the one, with his Elders, that came up with the magic, as Elders are the only shifters that can use magic. Regular shifters can’t. Now, I and other Elders have been playing around with possible ways we can offset this problem. And we’re very close to finding a way that we can actually protect ourselves from this deadly possibility.”

Having uplifted the mood of the room, the group began to talk together in different ways that they could help prepare everyone for the rogues. Whether it was more classes to teach the shifters that weren’t as adept at fighting, or strategy help, everyone had something to offer.

Britta noticed Hann smiling as everyone volunteered to help in any way that they could. Britta realized then and there that that was why people like Gabriel and the rogues would never win. Because they didn’t care about each other the way the Moonlight Pack and other shifters did. They were willing to put their lives on the line on a daily basis to protect their brothers and sisters. Their pack. The rogues only did it when they were trying to protect themselves.

Britta had seen it when Kaiser fell and all of his comrades ran away immediately, having given up the war before it even begun.

Britta even saw it when Gabriel had swayed all those Elders over to his side. One word from Michael, and the Elders switched sides and left Gabriel with only a few Elders supporting him.

They were willing to give it up if a better offer came along. The Moonlight Pack? They would never do something like that. They had each other’s backs. They were a family.

And they would never fall to someone like Gabriel. They would never fall to evil.

CHAPTER 26

Ukraine. Gabriel found out, very quickly, that he hated Ukraine.

Maybe it had to do with he was in a bad mood. Maybe he was upset because he had to leave his sweet, beautiful, majestic castle in Scotland. Maybe it was because the castle they moved into in Ukraine hadn’t been inhabited for seven decades, which meant that it was falling apart and full of debris everywhere he looked.

Gabriel walked into the main foyer and grimaced with distaste. There was graffiti everywhere he looked, with children spray painting their names. “Anya was here” was followed by “Love is everywhere you turn”. Gabriel spat at it. Stupid children. Stupid humans. Always ruining history like they were the only things in the world that mattered.

Gabriel was in a bad mood, and this dank, decrypt castle in Ukraine wasn’t helping matters. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be in Michigan, but that damn Moonlight Pack just had to ruin it for him, yet again. He was really growing annoyed with the way they were acting.

He was first tipped off that everything wasn’t what it seemed when he got word that three rogues were slaughtered. And one of them was the main rogue that he had grown to rely on in Michigan. What was his name…? Gabriel could never remember names. Well, not the names of the little people that truly had no power.

Gabriel thought that this was going to be it. He was finally going to get the revenge he so longed for. He thought he could taste it in the wind, in the air, in his being. Instead, he had to pull out of the whole thing so that he didn’t ruin the good he already had created.

Gabriel knew that something was really wrong when a rogue said he thought he saw Lukas, of the Moonlight Pack, in town right before the three rogues were murdered. And then, when news came that Hann and Michael did know all about what Gabriel was planning, Gabriel knew he had to end it once and for all.

Well, not end it. Just put it on hold for a little while.

He was upset about the whole thing, of course. He hated having to wait. He realized that maybe he didn’t have any patience at all nowadays. But he had wanted to act. He had wanted to enact that revenge. He had wanted to win and see that face of disbelief as he finally confronted Michael for that last time.

It looked like he wasn’t going to be getting that. Not right now, at least. Now, he just had to sit on his hands and wait until the shifters forgot about them and went back to their careless, miserable lives. And then, when they were least expecting it, Gabriel and his rogues would strike.

And it would be a magnificent thing. A magnificent feeling. Gabriel closed his eyes and breathed in that feeling that he would have, forgetting about the dank, smelly castle full of graffiti and dirt. He could forget about his surroundings for just a moment.

But then a rat scurried past him, hitting his foot, and Gabriel had to reluctantly open his eyes and see the “Anya was here” graffiti yet again. He sure did hate humans.

And he really hated this castle. He really hated Ukraine. He really hated Michael. He really hated everything.

Gabriel walked around the castle, exploring his new home with such distaste. He couldn’t wait until he was out of this damn castle and somewhere else. He would just have to lie low and make sure that Michael and Hann were concerned with something else. Then, he would call the rogues back together, give them some more of those magic spells he had been working on to make sure the shifters truly did die at the hands of the rogues, and then everything would be fine.

He just had to find some type of patience in his soul. How could he, an Elder that was centuries and centuries years old, lose patience? What had become of him to make him so antsy?

He assumed it was his deep hatred for everything that kept on beating him and pushing him down. Michael. Hann. The Moonlight Pack. All of the shifter world. They loved to tell him to shut up and sit down. Loved to tell him that he didn’t know what he was talking about at all.

Well, one day they would regret that. One day they would realize that they should’ve listen to him all those years ago. They should have given him the attention he so desired. They should have paid attention. Because when he came and destroyed their society and took away all their loved ones, when he became the most powerful Elder and shifter in the world, they would all then come to him and beg for mercy.

They would beg for forgiveness. For his mercy. For love.

And he would laugh before he killed them all.

CHAPTER 27

Britta was happy. Even after everything that had happened, she was happier than she had ever been. Sure, she had almost died. And it took her forever to confess her feelings and love to Grant. And it had kind of been a horrible year for all of the Moonlight Pack.

Regardless of all the struggles that they had all faced, that she had faced, she was happier than she had ever been in her life. And she thought she had Grant to thank for that.

“I’ll see you later, Brit,” Ethan yelled over his shoulder as him and Finn left the room in the gym where Britta had just finished her class. It was her first time back teaching since the whole rogue incident, and she was more than happy to be back. She had missed teaching. She had missed seeing Ethan and Finn and Hazel and Lea. She had missed the gym. Hell, she had missed doing anything, as Grant made sure she never left the bed when he was home with her. He wouldn’t even give in when she tried to seduce him. He was way too worried about her health, but now that she was proven to be okay, he had eased up a little.

“It’s good to have you back, teach,” Hazel told her as they all walked out into to the main gym together.

“Aw, thanks,” Britta smiled at her friend. She loved that everyone had missed her. It made her feel all warm and happy inside.

Britta walked into the gym, loving the atmosphere that she hadn’t been a part of in a few weeks. She had missed being around her pack on a daily basis. Now, there were even more shifters from packs around the world that were there to learn and even teach in some cases. They currently had some guy from Poland that was a master at offensive techniques in wolf form.

It had been pretty quiet on the rogue front for some time. Everyone knew that they were just laying low and waiting until they could catch the shifters off guard. But Britta didn’t know if that would happen. Every single day, the gym was packed with shifters from all over the world. They were all preparing for an uprising, and Michael was working with the Elders to bring some magic to their own fighting abilities. Morale was higher than ever in the society, and the rogues and Gabriel had to have noticed.

Their desire to bring the society apart had backfired. It had only brought the shifters closer together. Had it taken some time? Yes, and there were still certain Moonlight Pack members who tensed up when yet another strange shifter walked into the gym. But it was better than before, and Britta saw so much progress everywhere she looked.

As Britta walked throughout the gym, saying hello to the shifters that welcomed her back, she noticed Grant ahead in front of her, talking to Lukas. He hadn’t seen her yet, as his back was to her. She grinned, knowing what she was going to do.

She was going to finally tackle him and surprise him.

She took off at full speed, keeping light on her toes and not making a sound. But Grant turned around and tackled her to the ground, softly, right before she could jump on his back and surprise him.

“Are you serious?” Britta whined and Grant laid on top of her. She couldn’t help but smile and laugh when she saw Grant’s smug smirk he was giving her.

“When will you realize that I’m better than you?” He asked her, desire filling his eyes. She knew that hers looked the same. She kind of wanted to go away with him and fulfill that desire right then and there.

“Never,” she replied. She was about to lean up and give him a kiss when she heard boos from around her. Both of them looked up to see Lukas with Annie, Finn, and Ethan, all of who were catcalling and laughing at the two on the ground.

“Get a room!” Lukas yelled at them, rolling his eyes and laughing as he grabbed Annie’s hand and walked away.

Grant reluctantly got off of Britta, helping her up from the ground and making sure that she wasn’t hurt in any way.

“We’ll finish this later,” Grant told her in her ear as he pulled her towards him, his hands resting on her lower stomach.

“You can bet on it,” she told him, stealing a quick kiss before jumping away from him and walking in a separate direction. From the way he smiled at her as she walked away, Britta knew that tonight was going to be all sorts of fun.

As Britta walked to the women’s dressing room, more and more shifters came to welcome her back and say that they were happy she was okay. She was a bit astonished from all the love, and she almost felt like she was going to burst into tears from all the support she was getting.

She knew then and there as all those shifters, some from her pack and some not, came up to talk to her that everything would be okay. When the rogues came back, they would be ready. When Gabriel came back, they would be ready. They would be ready for anything that life threw at them.

Because they were a family. All of them would fight to the ends of the earth for each other. She didn’t know when Thea and Annie and Kato became her family. She didn’t know when Lukas became someone she could rely on. She didn’t know when Ethan and Finn and Hazel and Lea had become her friends. And she sure as hell didn’t know when Grant had become the love of her life.

But they all were a part of her now. And she knew that, no matter what, everything would be okay. And they would win.

And she had her friends, her family, her loved ones all around her. And that was all that she truly needed.

THE END

The Coven Box Set (1-5)

Book 1: Origins

Chapter One

It may not seem like the truth, but once, long ago – I was a girl. I was a normal child. While I always struggled with my beliefs, I tried my best to remain steadfast and hold strong to my family’s beliefs. My parents were on the fringe of the godly. My father had narrowly escaped death back home, in England, after which my family fled to the New World, seeking salvation and divine inspiration.

The New World was a frightening place. Where we had once lived in a grand home with wooden floors and glass panes in our windows, we now had nothing but a small shack with a muddy floor covered in rushes. My father remained convinced that this was best. “Excessive hedonism turns one away from the Lord,” he always said. “Ligeia, it is your duty to make sure that your heart remains steady and true.”

My mother was more concerned with breeding. She had lost three babes in the New World, and I felt as though nothing could ease her grief. Despite my father’s attempt at comfort, Mother remained isolated and cold. When she fell pregnant once more, her devotion to the Lord and Savior seemingly increased tenfold overnight.

At twelve years old, I was now expected to care for my younger brothers and sisters as my mother’s confinement became imminent. The burden of cooking, cleaning, and childrearing fell on my shoulders. Godly children were always expected to be self-sufficient, and my parents had very high expectations of me.

For the longest time, my biggest regret was not living up to the hopes and expectations of my family. But now…well, it’s unfair to make assumptions.

I’ll just have to let you decide for yourself.

--

Ipswich, Massachusetts – 1681

“Ligeia!” William Arrowsmith stood at the base of the stairs, bellowing loudly. A thunder of footsteps sounded above as William’s four children raced down the stairs, giggling and squealing.

“What cheer, Father?” Ligeia asked, sobering instantly. Her long, dark hair was bound in a knot at the back of her head, and her blue eyes flickered with intelligence.

William frowned. He was a man in early middle age, the dark hair on his head shot through with white and grey.

“Daughter,” he said sternly. “Prithee, tell me, have you finished your lessons for the day?”

Ligeia shook her head. “No, Father,” she said. She turned to her younger sisters. “Drusilla and Abigail have been fighting. It makes my head ache!”

William glared. “Daughter, you will soon be a woman,” he said. “You must learn to shoulder the responsibilities of a family.”

Ligeia hung her head. “Yes, Father,” she said softly. “I am sorry.”

“Do not apologize to me,” William said sharply.

Ligeia nodded. She turned to Abigail. “Sister, take the others outside,” she said softly. “I must pray with Mother.”

At age twelve, Ligeia was a serious young girl on the cusp of womanhood. She’d inherited her mother’s slender figure and her father’s intensity.

Ten-year-old Abigail was as different from Ligeia as night from day. She cocked her head to the side and licked her lower lip, looking impudent.
“Heed my words,” Ligeia said sternly. “Do not disobey me!”

Abigail rolled her eyes before taking the three remaining siblings by the hand and guiding them outside. Left alone with her father, Ligeia once again looked him in the eye.

“Father, tell me,” she said softly, “how is Mother today?”

“Pray for the soul of the babe,” William barked. “I have a meeting with the minister. He is coming to visit. Ligeia, prepare some libations.”

Ligeia nodded. She crossed the dirt floor of the small, wooden home, pausing as she walked past her parents’ chamber to gaze inside at her mother. Constance Arrowsmith’s belly was swollen huge with child, and she lay on a bed of straw, whimpering. Her face was bloodless and pale.

Ligeia knew it was wrong to disobey her father. Still, she couldn’t help but sneak inside the chamber and kneel at her mother’s side.

“Mother,” Ligeia whispered. She put a hand to her mother’s forehead; it came away warm and sticky with perspiration. “Is your time coming close?”

“It shouldn’t be more than another fortnight,” Constance said. Her features screwed tightly in pain. “I am getting older, that is all, child.”

Feeling helpless, Ligeia stroked her mother’s sweaty hair. The roots were dark with oil as Ligeia brushed the hair away from her forehead.

“Father has yet another meeting with Minister Boggust,” Ligeia whispered.

“Hush, child,” Constance said. She whimpered again. “Your father’s affairs are not for you to dwell upon.”

“It’s the third time he’s come to the house,” Ligeia said. She leaned back on her haunches, wondering what her father could possibly be doing with the minister. Minister Boggust was an intimidating man – elderly and stern, with closely-cropped white hair and bright grey eyes. Ligeia always felt as if the minister could peer directly into her soul. She was perpetually waiting for the day the minister would point a finger at her chest and call her evil.

“Ligeia, leave,” Constance said. She sighed and sat up in bed. “Tend to your brothers and sisters. The devil makes use of idle girls,” she added in a warning tone.

Ligeia clambered to her feet and wiped her palms on her homespun apron. “Yes, Mother,” she said. She dipped her head. “Fare thee well.”

Constance was silent as Ligeia closed the wooden door to the bedroom, but Ligeia’s heart was twisted with anxiety all the same. Since the terrifying journey to the New World, Constance had suffered three miscarriages – each more bloody and horrifying than the last. It was enough to make Ligeia swear off the idea of ever having children herself, although she knew it was unavoidable when it would come time for her to wed.

I’m only two and ten years, she thought as she reached into the pantry for a hunk of dark bread. Father and Mother will keep me at home until I’m at least six and ten. Ligeia stood on her tiptoes and felt for the earthenware jug, then filled it with ale from the larder. She set the ale and the bread down on the crudely hewn wooden table, then walked out into the fresh, crisp sunshine of the spring day.

Abigail and Drusilla were seated on the grass, playing with dandelions and weeds. John and Thomas were roughhousing, tumbling around, and shoving one another into the dirt.

Ligeia crossed her arms over her chest. “Thomas! John!”

The boys didn’t stop. Anger surged inside of Ligeia, and she walked over, grabbing her younger brother, Thomas, by the scruff of the neck.

“Father and the minister are having a meeting,” Ligeia hissed. “Do you want us all to look like heathens? Do you?”

Thomas cowered. He shook with fear as Ligeia released him. “No,” he whispered. “I am sorry, sister.”

The sound of a horse trotting up to the small, wooden home made the children fall silent. Ligeia watched as the minister dismounted, then leashed his reins to a fencepost. His grey eyes glittered with anger as he stormed inside the house.

“Prithee, be silent,” Ligeia hissed to her younger siblings.

Abigail glared at Ligeia. “I know what thou are doing,” she said slowly.

Ligeia’s blue eyes blazed with anger. “You also know that I am your elder,” she said, walking closer and staring down at her younger sister.

“It is a sin to eavesdrop,” Abigail said. She bit her lip.

Ignoring her, Ligeia crossed the yard and crept back inside the house. She closed her eyes, creeping along the dirt floor. The rushes crackled under her feet as she moved, but she didn’t turn or slow down.

Snippets of voices from the other room filtered through the dusty air and straight to Ligeia’s ears. She silently crept closer, pressing her ear to the thin wall.

“The sins of the people of Ipswich,” William said heavily. “I fear they are too much to bear. I fear my family will fall to the devil; that the whole town will fall to the devil if we do not act!”

“William, you need not concern yourself with these matters,” Minister Boggust replied. There was a pause, and Ligeia heard the unmistakable sound of chewing. “I advise you to let me and the other godly ministers address this.”

“Forgive me for saying so, but I believe you are not doing everything in your power to seek and destroy the evil among us.”

“William, are you implying that we are idle?”

“I am implying the evil is too great to be handled by a single man.”

Minister Boggust laughed, but the sound sent a shiver down Ligeia’s spine.

“I assure you, William that is not the case.”

“There is evil everywhere!” William hissed loudly. “I see it every morn, every night with the rise of the moon. God is nowhere to be found in this village, Minister.”

Ligeia heard the creak of a wooden chair as Minister Boggust stood.

“William, I will not argue with a man who refuses to listen to God’s truth,” the minister said. “I cannot call on you again, not until you defer to me as the true minister of God’s beliefs.”

Ligeia dashed outside, forgetting to be quiet as she ran. Abigail and Drusilla were still seated on the grass, quietly singing a rhyme. John was sitting with his back against the trunk of a tree, his eyes closed against the late-morning sun. And Thomas was nowhere in sight.

“Thomas!” Ligeia yelled. “Thomas!”

Abigail gave her sister a smug look. “If you had not been sinning, sister, you would have seen that he has gone.”

Ligeia slapped her sister across the face, hard enough for Abigail’s head to whip backward.

“Hateful,” Ligeia spat under her breath. She gathered her petticoats in one hand and ran across the yard, screaming her brother’s name. As the panic and fear mounted in her belly, she felt her skin grow cold and chilled. ‘Abigail was right,’ she thought as she ran faster and faster. ‘I have begun to sin, and I do not know how to stop!’

A boyish giggle halted Ligeia dead in her tracks. Gasping, she saw that Thomas had wandered into the vacant lot by the edge of the Arrowsmith’s property. There was a huge pile of wood and a few tools for clearing away grass and bushes.

Ligeia gasped. Thomas was walking steadily toward an old man, who was clutching an axe. Unlike the other men in the village, he had long, white hair that hung around his shoulders. His beard was also pure white, and his skin belied the appearance of someone who had spent a great deal of time in the sun. He was as wrinkled as a walnut, with bright, shining eyes.

“Thomas!” Ligeia shrieked. “Thomas!”

Thomas turned around, giggling. As Ligeia ran toward him breathlessly, the old man erupted into laughter.

“Child, calm yourself,” he said. His accent was strange – thick and almost fluid, like honey.

“Thomas!” Ligeia snapped. She glared at her younger brother.

The smile disappeared from Thomas’ face as he slowly walked to join his sister. Ligeia grabbed Thomas by the wrist and started pulling him back toward the Arrowsmith’s yard.

“Not very friendly, eh?” the old man called. When Ligeia didn’t reply, he laughed heartily. “You will be!”

Ligeia shivered. Something about the old man made her think of the church meetings when sin and evil were discussed. The way he’d smiled had been almost…otherworldly.

“You disobey me one more time,” Ligeia hissed to her brother, “and I will tell Father that you have been colluding with the devil!”

Thomas stuck his tongue out, and Ligeia resisted the urge to slap him, too. She glared, and after a few seconds, his expression softened.

“I am sorry, sister,” Thomas said morosely. “I swear.”

Ligeia took a deep breath. “Go,” she said. “Go and be with your other siblings.”

It hadn’t always been like this. Back in England (or at home, as Ligeia privately thought of her former country), Ligeia had enjoyed the company of her siblings. Life hadn’t been so hard or nearly so bleak as it was in the New World. There had been time to play, time to sit in the dusty panels of sun on the dining room floor and practice making letters, or sewing stitches in old clothes of Mother’s. A nurse had been under the employ of William, and she was responsible for the younger children.

But William had been unable to cope with, what he saw as, the worst wicked of evils that began to pervade Glastonbury. The English Civil War had barely been over before William saw a terrifying split among the others in the village. Some families chose to secretly practice Catholicism. Whenever they were found, they were executed. And while most families belonged to the Church of England, William found the Church just as vile and fanciful as the Catholic Church.

Ligeia had been a child when William and Constance made the decision to book fare on a massive ship and cross the ocean. She was the only Arrowsmith child to have memories of living in England, albeit very vague ones. She wouldn’t have admitted it to her parents – or anyone – but Ligeia missed England constantly. She missed the wet, misty weather and the variety of life. Everything in the New World was plain, difficult, and bland.

And the paranoia that spread through Ipswich like wildfire was enough to make life practically unbearable.

Ligeia walked into the house just as William was replacing the pitcher of ale on top of the larder.

“Father, prithee, what business did Minister Boggust come to tell?”

William’s eyes hardened. “Do not ask such fanciful questions,” he said. “Go and look in on your mother. Prepare a meal,” he added. “And watch over your brothers and sisters.”

“I do not think Ipswich is full of sin,” Ligeia said suddenly. She looked at her father. “Father, why are you so afraid?”

William grabbed Ligeia by the shoulder and roughly yanked her across the room. She felt the blaze of fire from the hearth hot upon her cheeks. When she struggled in her father’s grip, he only grabbed her harder.

“Do not make me question the nature of my own daughter,” William growled, “or straight into the fire you will go!”

“Father, I–”

“You listen to me,” William growled. “Sin is afoot in Ipswich; sin and the devil are everywhere, Ligeia! You must stay alert and not fall prey to such evil!”

Ligeia bit her tongue. She was tempted to argue with her father, but she clamped her lips shut until William released his grip on her body. When he pulled his fingers away, a dull ache bled from her shoulder all the way down her back.

“Evil surrounds us,” William growled. “Witches and devils and demons in the air, in the night!” He clenched his teeth together, and Ligeia pulled away from his gust of foul breath. “I will see to it that all witches are burned, burned until the evil has left their bodies!”

“Father, this cannot be true!” Ligeia cried. Fear crept into her heart as she thought of how painful it would feel to burn at the stake, to have the flames lick over her petticoats and apron, melting the flesh from her bones.

“Witches,” William spat. “They ride at night and bear the devil young. They corrupt the minds of the innocent and seek to destroy all that is good and right with the world!”

“I have never seen a witch,” Ligeia said softly.

The sting of her father’s slap left Ligeia reeling. Tears came to her eyes, but she angrily blinked them away before William could notice.

“Heed me, child,” William said darkly. “Do not make me regret what I have said.” He stared at Ligeia for a long moment, then turned on his heel and stalked angrily out of the house.

Ligeia went to her mother. Constance was sitting up in bed, rubbing her arms. The pain seemed to have stopped, at least for the moment, but her face was lined and creased with exhaustion.

“Daughter, help me,” Constance said. She held out her hands and Ligeia gripped them firmly before pulling her mother out of bed. “I am as weak as a kitten.”

“The baby will come soon,” Ligeia said. “And then your strength will return, Mother. I know it.”

Constance narrowed her eyes at her eldest daughter. “Do not make such false prophecies, child,” she said. “You know how the devil can play upon one’s mind.”

Ligeia hung her head. “Yes, Mother,” she said. “It is only that I wish for you to be well once more.”

“If God wills the return of my strength, I welcome his blessing.”

Ligeia sat down on the end of the mattress. “There is a man outside,” she said. “A strange man.”

Constance nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Your father and I received news that the property has been bought by man called Henrik.” The name sounded strange and foreign, like the whisper of a dark wind. “He is not like us, child.”

Ligeia frowned.

“He is not a member of the truly godly,” Constance continued.

Ligeia almost mentioned how Thomas had found his way onto Henrik’s property, but she kept her lips tightly fastened.

“Ligeia?” Constance looked into her daughter’s eyes, searching.

Ligeia shook her head. “I do not have anything to say,” she said quietly.
“You keep away from that man,” Constance said. Her nostrils flared, and she looked proud. “A man like that is dangerous, child.”

Ligeia nodded. A shiver ran down her spine when she recalled the way Henrik had looked at her.

“Do not disobey me,” Constance said. She gasped and clutched her belly as a sudden pain struck her.

“Mother!” Ligeia cried. “Father!”

“Hush, child!” Constance snapped. “Do not alarm your father.” The pain seemed to pass, and she relaxed against the wall of the cabin, rubbing her swollen and distended belly with both hands.

“What is the man doing in Ipswich?”

Constance’s eyes blazed, and she glared at her eldest daughter. “Prithee, child, do not make such demands of your mother!” She sighed and yawned. “You keep away from him,” she said sternly. “If I find out you disobeyed me, I’ll have your father throw you out!”

Ligeia nodded. She stood up and wiped her palms on her petticoats.

“Is there anything else, Mother?”

Constance gave a brief shake of her head, and Ligeia left the room.

Chapter Two

Even as a child, I had my doubts about the extent of my parents’ knowledge. Ever since we abandoned England for the New World, my father seemed to grow more pious and devout by the day. I was sure that in time, the same ideations would come to me. I had doubts about God and religion, but it seemed to be something that strengthened with age – something that would come naturally with enough time and wisdom.

Little did I know, I had a lot to learn.

Despite the warnings of William and Constance, Ligeia felt more intrigued by Henrik with each passing day. She took to sitting outside in the sun with her morning sewing and mending, and watching Henrik as he turned the empty field of a lot into a small, but cozy home.

The few times Henrik called out to her, Ligeia ignored him. The first time it happened, she leapt from the ground and scampered inside, forgetting her mending. When Constance yelled at her for dirtying her work, Ligeia neglected any mention of Henrik.

But it wasn’t just the arrival of the strange man that had upended Ligeia’s world. Everything was changing – she was changing, transforming from a girl into a young woman.

William eyed Ligeia one morning as she served the family gruel and bread. “Daughter, how old are you now?”

Ligeia kept her head down as she moved around the table, ladling a spoonful of gruel into each bowl.

“I am two and ten, Father.”

William chuckled. “Soon, you will have a family of your own,” he said. “Prithee, child, tell me, does that please you?”

Ligeia kept her expression neutral as she met her father’s gaze. “What will please God and my family will please me.”

“Good girl,” William replied. “Ligeia, go and fetch milk from the goats in the shed. They are braying with full bellies.”

Ligeia took the wooden bucket and made her way outside to the shed. The morning was bitterly cold – it was hard to believe that spring was well underway – and she shivered under her thin gown. The two goats were circling in their pen, nuzzling and chewing at each other affectionately.

Ligeia eyed them with disdain. She hadn’t had any feelings about farm animals until her family had come to the New World, but now there was something about the blank eyes of goats, chickens, and cows that frightened her.

“Settle, thee,” Ligeia muttered as she reached forward and took ahold of the goat’s udders. The goat pawed the ground, eyeing Ligeia with beady eyes as warm milk splashed into the bucket. Despite the chilly morning, the work was hard, and soon, Ligeia was panting and sweating.

“Ah, good morrow!”

A cold stab of fear pierced Ligeia’s heart, but she didn’t look up as she heard Henrik’s voice booming through the air. She stuck the tip of her tongue out between her lips, concentrating hard on filling the bucket with fresh, warm milk.

“Child, can you not hear?”

Ligeia didn’t reply. She finally looked up and over her shoulder to where Henrik was standing at the edge of his property.

“Child, come here,” Henrik said. There was a kindly look in his eyes. “And bring some milk, would ye?”

Ligeia gave a terse shake of her head. When she looked back down in the bucket, she screamed in fright. The pale, yellowish milk had turned to dark red blood. Ligeia moaned softly as the sickening scent of iron reached her nostrils. In a panic, she leapt away from the bucket, kicking it with her foot.

“Child, I did not mean to scare ye!” Henrik bellowed.

Frightened, Ligeia grabbed the bucket and ran toward the Arrowsmith cottage. Henrik stood behind her, booming with laughter as she ran.

Inside, William admonished his daughter. “Ligeia! Prithee, tell me, why are you disobeying my orders?”

Ligeia kept her head down. The vision of the blood was still fresh in her mind, and she shuddered, unable to rid her senses of the rich, meaty scent.

“I was frightened, Father,” Ligeia said shakily. She twined her fingers together; they were cold and sweaty.

William frowned. “And thou has wasted milk!”

“I did not mean to,” Ligeia said quickly. She stepped backward, then turned on her heel and ran up the stairs to the large room where she and her younger brothers and sisters slept. In the middle of the day, the room was empty. Ligeia dove onto the straw mattress and pulled the rough blanket over her head. When she heard footsteps, she began to shake at the knowledge her father would likely beat her for spilling the milk. But these footsteps were too quiet, too soft to be that of William Arrowsmith.

Seconds later, Abigail poked her head inside the room. “Sister, what is wrong? What caused you to flee?” Abigail frowned, walking over to the mattress and sitting down. “You are never afraid of anything in this world!”

Ligeia was still shaking. She pulled the blanket around her shoulders and shivered.

“I…” She trailed off, biting her chapped lower lip. “Things have been happening,” she said softly. “Things like what Father predicted would come at the end of the world.”

Abigail’s eyes went wide. “Ligeia!”

“It is true, Abigail,” Ligeia said miserably. She shuddered again. “I do not wish to continue seeing such horrors.”

Abigail touched her sister’s shoulder. “Sister, tell me. What have you seen?”

“The milk turned to blood in the pail,” Ligeia whispered, almost inaudibly. “I could smell it, Abigail. It was real; I know it was.”

“I think you are ill,” Abigail said. “You have been acting strangely for weeks now.”

Ligeia closed her eyes and sighed. “That is not all,” she said softly. “I cannot close my eyes; I cannot sleep. For when I dream…”

“What, sister?”

“For when I dream, I see the ungodly ones,” Ligeia said. The words felt too large for her throat, and for a moment she was afraid of choking. Then, suddenly, the feeling passed.

“Sister!” Abigail covered her mouth and leapt from the mattress in horror. “The devil is at work!”

Ligeia shook her head quickly until her black hair tumbled free from its grips and loosed around her shoulders. “No,” she said quickly. “Do not tell Father. Do not tell Mother, sister.”

“I must!” Abigail’s face was white with fear. “I must tell Mother and Father that the devil is here!”

Ligeia grabbed her younger sister’s wrist and pulled her close. “No! I swear it, Abigail. I will spend the whole day praying and repenting. I pray that God will pull me close once again, that I will be pure and righteous.”

Abigail stared at Ligeia for a long time before scampering down the stairs. Ligeia groaned as she heard her younger sister’s voice bubbling through the cabin, informing her parents of everything she had just witnessed.

---

Ligeia stayed upstairs all day, afraid each time she heard the thud of footsteps on the wooden floor. She prayed and prayed, growing more desperate with each passing hour. Despite her fervent calls to God, she felt only distant and removed from everything holy. Try as she might, she found it impossible to banish the ghastly image of the bucket filled with blood from her brain.

In fact, the more Ligeia’s mind wandered, the more afraid she felt. Whenever she closed her eyes, she was subjected to numerous and horrifically intrusive thoughts. Once, she saw a group of men and women, all hooded and cloaked in black. They were swaying back and forth and chanting in Latin; she recognized the ancient tongue from church rituals back in England. But this wasn’t anything like a church ritual. If anything, it was dark and evil, the work of the devil himself.

“Ligeia.” William’s voice was a stern command. “Prithee, look upon your father.”

Ligeia’s knees were aching from hours of kneeling on the wooden floor, and her throat was raw from praying under her breath and lack of water.

“Yes, Father,” Ligeia said. “What news have you brought me?”

“You are a troublesome child,” William said sternly. “The day you become a woman is the day I cast you from this family forever. You are to be married to a man from the village.”

“No!” Ligeia shrieked. “Father, do not force me!”

William’s eyes narrowed with anger. “Go from me,” he hissed. “Go from me before I am forced to act in the devil’s stead.”

Ligeia leapt from the floor and bolted down the stairs as quickly as her feet would carry her. She stumbled but didn’t fall, running out of the house and across the yard. The woods loomed ahead, dark and black with the magic of night. Ligeia’s lungs ached as she gasped for air, and she was so thirsty that she felt nauseous. Still, she ran on.

The woods felt cool and shady. Ligeia shivered but didn’t stop running, her feet churning over dead leaves and branches.

“Ho, child!”

The sound of Henrik’s voice made Ligeia shriek with fear. She stumbled on a fallen branch and landed on her hands and knees, roughly scraping her palms against shards of rock. Henrik stood there, looking larger than life.

“Child, do not be afraid of me,” Henrik said. His accent seemed even thicker than it had before. “Come here.”

Trembling with fear, Ligeia climbed to her feet. She stayed rooted firmly to the spot, as if Henrik would think she had vanished.

Henrik clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Come here, child,” he said. “I swear – I shan’t hurt you.”

Ligeia shook her head. “I cannot,” she said softly.

Henrik roared with laughter. “And why is that? Because of your pa, eh?”

Ligeia glared. She turned on her heel to leave just as Henrik spoke again.

“I have seen the future for you, child,” Henrik said. He shook his head slowly.

Ligeia knew she should run. She knew she should bolt away from Henrik as fast as possible, run back to the safety of the Arrowsmith cottage, and never speak to this strange man again. But something about the way he spoke made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

“What have you seen?” Ligeia asked in a quiet, trembling voice.

Henrik smiled mysteriously. “Aye, so now you want to know?”

Ligeia stared at him.

“Your future, child, is tied to your destiny.” Henrik spread his hands through the air and goose flesh sprang up all over Ligeia’s body. “I have seen you wedded to a man from Ipswich.”

“Is it…is the marriage a happy one?”

Henrik grew solemn. “No,” he said. “‘Tis not. ‘Tis cruel and demanding, your future husband.” He leaned in close, and his words chilled Ligeia to the very bone. “You bear many a child, but few live beyond the first hour.”

Ligeia shivered with fear. She hated the idea of marriage, especially when it came time to think about her ‘wifely duty’ and bearing children. After seeing her mother have three miscarriages in such a short time span, Ligeia was terrified of suffering the same fate. And although she had taken joy in having younger brothers and sisters, watching her mother give birth had always been a particularly horrifying experience.

“You can change your fate,” Henrik said heavily. His eyes flashed and glittered. “But you must take matters into your own hands, child. You are strong. You need not let yourself be beaten down by those around you, don’t you see?” He threw his head back and cackled.

“You…you art full of dark magic!” Ligeia cried. Fear raced through her body, and finally, she turned on her heels and fled.

Chapter Three

The small village of Ipswich buzzed about Henrik Larsson, the foreigner, for quite some time. Spring turned to summer, and still the villagers talked and gossiped whenever Minister Boggust wasn’t around to chastise them. Mother and Father were no exception. Despite Father’s piety, he wasn’t above making snide remarks about the quality of our new neighbor’s dwelling. Henrik wasn’t a tradesman. In fact, most people had no idea how he truly lived. He spent most days alone, in his cabin. At night, he walked through the woods. It terrified me, and I never went under the shadow of the trees ever again…at least, not until much later.

Constance’s screams and cries of agony filled the air. Her facial features were screwed up and shiny with sweat as she grunted and writhed on the straw mattress.

Ligeia sighed as she reached down with a cool rag and wiped the sweat from her mother’s brow.

“There, Mother,” she said softly. “It will all be over soon. It will all be over.”

Constance shrieked again – an animal-like cry that filled Ligeia with horror and dread. Her mother had been in an agonizingly rough labor since the wee hours of the morning, and Ligeia and Abigail hadn’t left her side.

William, along with some of the other men in the village, were meeting with Minister Boggust and making arrangements to build a new church. The current church was a small, windowless shack. William and the other men were convinced that if they raised a large, airy structure, church would become a more popular option among the people of Ipswich. William had spent the previous week talking about how the church was losing its grip on the godly. Since the churches of the New World were plain and spartan, he reasoned, people felt less incentivized to come.

It was something that clearly enraged William. Ligeia had shuddered to see her father so angry, ranting about sin and vanity.

“God’s flock is straying, all due to lack of stained glass panes and lace,” William had sneered, driving his hand into the table again and again. “We deserve to burn, children! All of us – even the godly!”

It terrified Ligeia and her younger brothers and sisters. But today, she had more pressing matters at hand: the mortality of her mother, and hopefully that of the baby as well.

“Ligeia,” Constance grunted. She gripped Ligeia’s hand until the fingers were numb. “It’s coming,” she added in a hideous wail. “It’s coming soon!”

“Abigail, run and fetch water!” Ligeia barked. She stood over her mother’s bed, watching in horror as her mother’s belly shifted and moved. “Prithee, run as quickly as you can!”

Abigail darted out of the room, looking nauseous and terrified. Ligeia almost envied her younger sister for being able to leave at the moment. Because she was the eldest child in the family, Ligeia knew her place was at her mother’s side until the babe was born.

The chill spring had turned into a surprisingly hot and humid summer. Ligeia felt as though she would boil in her own sweat as she fanned her mother, brushing Constance’s sweaty hair away from her forehead. ‘Prithee,’ she thought desperately, ‘live, Mother! I need you to live!’

Constance groaned and shifted. She gulped for air, then lay back on the straw mattress with her legs akimbo. The straw bed was stained with blood and fluid, and the room smelled sharply of iron.

“Mother, be strong,” Ligeia whispered.

“Pray for me, child,” Constance said weakly. “My strength is beginning to fade.”

Kneeling at the side of the bed, Ligeia dipped her head in prayer. She prayed until her throat was raw and her knees ached from kneeling. She prayed for her mother, for the child, for her family to survive.

Abigail ran into the room, carrying a bucket full of water. Ligeia took the bucket from her younger sister and set it on the floor. She dipped a cloth into the lukewarm water, then sponged Constance’s forehead.

“In England,” Ligeia said quickly to her scared sister, “we had a midwife. But no midwife here; Ipswich isn’t like home.”

Abigail’s eyes were wide with fear. “Ipswich is our home,” she said slowly.

Constance screamed in pain once again, and there was the sound of something tearing. Ligeia crawled on the mattress between her mother’s thighs, reaching blindly. There was something slick and hot, and she gripped it, pulling gently.

“Mother, push,” Ligeia cried. “Push!”

Constance screamed. She arched her back and strained, clutching handfuls of the mattress until her knuckles were white with the effort. At last, a bloody infant slid into Ligeia’s arms, wailing and screeching.

“Mother!” Ligeia cried. “A babe!” A female infant lay in her hands, kicking and screaming. Ligeia was amazed at the scale of the features – the baby’s nose was smaller than her thumbnail, but perfectly shaped. Her fingers were like little worms, and her head was full of dark hair coated with blood and slime.

Constance had passed out. Her eyes were closed and her face was still etched with pain as Ligeia took shears from Abigail and cut the umbilical cord. The baby looked helpless as it squalled, crying and screaming. Ligeia wiped the baby’s forehead with the damp cloth before swaddling it as best as she could in some rough homespun.

“Will Mother go to live with God?” Abigail whispered.

“She is resting,” Ligeia said. “She will survive.”

“Ligeia, I’m scared,” Abigail whimpered. “Mother could perish.”

“She will not,” Ligeia snapped. “Now take the babe!” Ligeia passed the squalling infant to her younger sister before walking out of the room. She was so weary that she felt it in her bones, but she knew there was no time to rest.

Ligeia started a fire in the hearth and filled the cauldron with water. As she waited for it to boil, she sat down on the stone and leaned against the wall. It felt good to be idle, even just for a moment, and she rocked back and forth, cradling her elbows in her hands.

Ever since Ligeia had stumbled upon Henrik in the woods, her visions had mercifully stopped. She knew she should be grateful; perhaps this signified that she was again restored to grace in the eyes of God. But instead, Ligeia felt more fearful than ever before. She wondered if the visions had shifted to Abigail, or perhaps to one of her younger brothers. The idea was nothing short of terrifying to Ligeia. What if her whole family was being stalked by the devil, one by one, until they fell from grace?

Constance slept for over an hour. When she woke, Ligeia passed her the infant and looked away as Constance parted her shift for the infant to nurse. Despite the painful ordeal she’d gone through, Constance looked better than she had in weeks.

“How are you, Mother?” Ligeia asked softly. “Does it hurt very much?”

“I am always filled with joy when a new babe has come,” Constance said softly. She stroked the dried blood away from the baby’s head.

“What shall you name the babe?”

Constance didn’t look up. She cradled the baby in her arms, staring down with eyes full of love and admiration.

The door opened and slammed and William stepped in the room. His face was angry, but his expression melted when he saw the little babe. He strode into the bedroom with purpose before reaching down to pluck the child from his wife’s arms.

“Are you poorly?”

Constance shook her head. Some of her strength was beginning to return, but her face was still bloodless and pale.

“No,” she said softly. “William, we’ve had another girl.”

“Aye,” William said. He turned to Ligeia. “And fitting. I have news for my eldest.”

Ligeia’s heart sunk. “Father, what do you mean?”

William patted the infant and gently returned it to Constance’s arms.

“Father, tell me,” Ligeia demanded. “Prithee!”

William sighed. “I have found a place for you,” he said. “In Salem.”

Ligeia’s heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, she thought she would be sick.

“You mean, I am going away? To live with another family?”

William nodded soberly. “Aye,” he said, “for a year. And if things are promising, you will marry the son.”

“No,” Ligeia said. She shook her head, stomping defiantly on the ground. “I will not go.”

William grabbed Ligeia’s arm and pulled her close. “You will heed me, chit,” he said. “I refuse to allow my own daughter to go against my wishes.”

“Mother, please,” Ligeia begged. Her eyes filled with tears as she turned to face her mother. “Please! Do not let Father send me away!”

“Ligeia, this isn’t a punishment,” Constance said. Her eyes hardened. “You are no longer a child,” she said. “You are becoming a woman. It is time for you to have a family, to bring godly children into the world.”
“No,” Ligeia said. A tear rolled down her cheek. “I will not go!”

William yanked Ligeia roughly by the arm, pulling her close and slapping her across the face. She cried out in pain as the slaps grew heavier and her cheek was burning and stinging in agony. William’s face screwed with rage and spittle flew from his mouth as he slapped his eldest daughter.

“You will obey me,” William ordered. “Lest I cast you out to find your own way!”

Ligeia whimpered in pain. “Please,” she whispered. “Please. Do not make me go!”

William sighed. “Aye, child, I know it is not what you wanted.” He shook his head. “But it is the decision I have made for you, and you will do me proud.”

Tears streamed silently down Ligeia’s face.

“On the day you become a woman, I will make arrangements with the family,” William said. “You will act as a household servant for a year, in order to cover the cost of your room and board. And if you prove a suitable match for the household, you will wed Thomas Whittier, the eldest son, at the year’s end.”

Ligeia stood mute. She recalled Henrik’s warning, but she found she could not make herself refuse her father. The idea of being cast out was horrifying – too horrifying to bear. Ligeia shivered as she thought of being alone in the woods, curled under a sodden tree in the middle of a thunderstorm.

“Yes, Father,” Ligeia said softly. “I will do your bidding.”

William’s face relaxed and he released his grip on his daughter’s shoulder. “Aye,” he said. “You are headstrong, child, but this is the godly path. All women must obey their fathers, and then their husbands.”

I hate this life, Ligeia thought suddenly. Rage burst open inside of her chest. I cannot stand the idea of never being in control of my own fate! It’s not fair!
“William,” Constance said softly.

Ligeia’s heart flipped. She yearned for her mother to take her side, to stand with her against William. Maybe she will come to my aid, Ligeia thought as she stared at her mother, nursing the babe. Maybe it is not too late. And I have not yet begun to bleed. Perhaps I have months, even years before I must leave home.

“Yes?” William ignored his daughter and stepped closer to the bed. “What is it?”

“The babe,” Constance said. “Her name shall be Prudence.”

William nodded solemnly. “Prudence Arrowsmith,” he said quietly. “After the baptism, I will inscribe the name in the family bible.”

Constance beamed with pride. Ligeia’s hopes faded once more.

My parents don’t care for me, she thought angrily. She balled her hands into fists as the taste of iron seeped into her mouth. They’ve already forgotten my misery. And the same thing will happen with Abigail, and Drusilla, and yes, even to baby Prudence when she comes of age.

Henrik’s warning flashed in Ligeia’s head, but instead of saying anything else, she slunk out of the room, feeling utterly defeated.

Chapter Four

Months passed, and my blood cycle still did not appear. I felt both nervous and frightened each time my belly twinged with pain, each time I felt swollen and bloated. But there was no blood on the inside of my petticoats, and I remained a child for another year and a half.

My father grew impatient to be rid of me. Six children under one small roof was a great burden, and the responsibility of raising my brothers and sisters often fell to me. I took some small, petty delight in the knowledge that once I left home, the family would be lost, if only temporarily. But my younger sister, Abigail, was now the age I was when Father had brokered my own marriage. I knew she wouldn’t have much longer at home, either.

The strange visions never returned. I couldn’t forget them; I knew I’d never be able to rid my mind of the bucket filled with blood. But for the most part, life in Ipswich returned to normal. Even the buzz around Henrik Larsson died down. After a while, most people saw him as an eccentric old man, albeit not a godly one.

My father and mother grew more pious by the day. When I was thirteen, Father came home, looking defeated and angry. He had quarreled with Minister Boggust, and our family had been cast out of the church. Father said it was a blessing. He said the rest of the village placed too high of an importance on vanity and sin. He said that our family needed to stick together and remain godly, remain as pure and free of sin as possible.

The morning of my fourteenth birthday, I woke up in a pool of rusty blood. My mother scolded me for not being more careful, but she didn’t attempt to hide the news from my father. And later that day, my father made arrangements with James Whittier.

I didn’t cry when I left home. I was too angry with my father, and even angrier with my mother for failing to protect me from his wrath. But if I had known what horrors awaited me in Salem, I would have cried until my eyes were as dry as gravel.

---

Salem, Massachusetts – 1683

“What a pretty picture you make,” Thomas Whittier sneered. He stood with one foot planted on the steps, the other on the landing with his arms crossed against his muscular chest. “I should have Mother make you do this each day.”

Ligeia silently fumed. She was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the floor with a boar-bristle brush and lye mixed with water. It was backbreaking work. She had never thought her knees could ache as much as they did right now. It had taken her the better part of the day to scrub stairs, and now she had two whole floors of dusty wooden planks awaiting her. Despite the chill in the air, she was overheated and flushed. Sweat dripped down her forehead, soaking the neck of her gown. Her dark hair was plastered to her head with sweat, and her blue eyes glittered with hatred.

“Do not ignore me,” Thomas said. He glared at Ligeia. She still did not look up, keeping her attention on the work at hand. When she still did not reply, Thomas strode across the floor and grabbed her by the back of the neck, twisting his sausage-like fingers into her delicate skin until she whimpered with pain.

“Yes, Master Thomas?” Ligeia whimpered. Her blue eyes flashed with anger.

“That’s better,” Thomas replied. He released her and strode around her in a circle, keeping his eyes glued to her figure beneath the thin, homespun gown. “I am eager for your time to pass more quickly,” he said. “Do you feel the same?”

“Yes, Master Thomas,” Ligeia grunted. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply as pain shot up from her knees to her thin thighs.

Thomas grinned cruelly. He squatted down. When Ligeia did not look up, he tangled his fingers in her sweaty hair and yanked her face to meet his own.
“You are a lovely thing,” Thomas sneered. He licked his lips, letting his eyes trail down her body and focus on her budding breasts. “And I know exactly how to treat things that are so lovely.”

Ligeia glared, but she did not speak.

“Only, you have one problem,” Thomas said. “You are too quiet.” He released his grip on her hand and stood up, circling her once again. He snickered as he leaned in and swatted her hard on the behind, smacking her again and again until his palm stung from the force of it.
“You stupid beast!” Thomas shouted angrily. “Make noise! I want to hear you cry!”

Ligeia was biting the inside of her mouth to keep from howling with pain, but finally, she relented and released a loud cry of suffering and hurt. Thomas grinned. He smacked her buttocks all the harder until Ligeia collapsed on the soapy floor.

“You little wench,” Thomas sneered. “Pathetic!” He kicked her roughly in the stomach. This time, Ligeia’s cry of pain was genuine. Tears flooded her eyes, and she sniffled, rolling into a ball and hugging her knees to her chest with both arms. Her cheeks burned with shame as Thomas grinned down at her, evidently enjoying the sight of his betrothed in pain.

“Leave me alone,” Ligeia hissed.

Thomas snickered. His boots were filthy with mud, and he smiled at Ligeia, keeping his eyes locked with hers as he strode around the room, covering the floor with mud and dirt.

“For now,” Thomas said cheerfully. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked out of the room, humming under his breath.

Ligeia took a deep breath and hauled herself into a sitting position. Her whole body ached. She hated living with the Whittier family more than she’d ever thought possible. Thomas, the eldest son (and her soon-to-be husband) was a menacing bully who delighted in tormenting everyone around him – even his mother, Joy, who was the only kind person in the household. When Ligeia had first arrived, she had sensed an ally in Joy. But her trust and happiness eroded quickly as soon as she realized that Joy would offer no true protection against Thomas’ constant cruelties.

The Whittier home was a grand one, the largest in Salem. Ligeia’s father, William, had been very proud when he’d announced to his family that Ligeia would be marrying into wealth. But Ligeia deeply regretted not standing firm or running away. Life in the grand house was horrible, and she spent her days cleaning, cooking, and sometimes watching the younger Whittier children.

James Whittier, the patriarch of the family, was no better than his son, Thomas. Joy, his wife, and his daughters shrank when he was around. Ligeia was frightened of him, too. James and Thomas were both large, bulky men with shining caps of blond hair and smug, fat cheeks. They looked like overgrown children, and Ligeia grew more horrified with each passing day in the knowledge that she’d soon be having children of her very own.

Heavy footsteps thudded down the stairs, and Ligeia cringed. ‘Prithee, Thomas, leave me alone,’ she prayed silently as she scrubbed the floor. ‘Do not bother me again today!’

The footsteps grew nearer. Ligeia kept her head bent over her work, scrubbing hard at the wooden floor until it shone with suds and water.

“Ligeia.” James’ booming voice made Ligeia cringe. “You work so hard,” he said. He snickered, stepping closer. “Come, take a moment to chat with your father.”

Ligeia shuddered. The worst part of living as a servant in the Whittier home was having to treat James and Joy like parents.

“Yes, Father,” Ligeia said obediently. She stood and curtsied, keeping her gaze lowered at the floor.

“Tell me, are you happy in this godly home?” James snickered. “William seemed to think you would be.”

“Yes, Father,” Ligeia said. James’ eyes slid from her face to her bosom, and Ligeia was reminded, unpleasantly, of Thomas. ‘All men are disgusting,’ she thought as James ogled her. ‘I hate being subjected to this!’

“Come here.” James raised his eyebrows and held out his arms.

Ligeia walked forward stiffly, as if her joints were made of wood. James pulled her into a tight embrace. Ligeia couldn’t decide who was worse: Thomas or his father, James. While Thomas pinched and hit, James was more subtle. He enjoyed holding Ligeia close to his body and refusing to allow her to escape.

James wrapped his arms around Ligeia’s shoulders and pulled her close. She tried not to gag at his bodily stench. It was raw and musky, like onions and stale urine. She stood stiffly as James stroked her back, sliding his hands down to her bottom and squeezing. Her flesh was still sore from where Thomas had spanked her, and she tried not to shake as James squeezed her buttocks.

“You’re a good girl,” James said. His breath was even worse than the rest of his malodorous body, and Ligeia shuddered. “A very, very good girl.”

“Yes, Father,” Ligeia said automatically. She cringed as she felt James’ prick stiffen in his trousers and press against her.

Voices sounded from below, and Ligeia tried to escape from James’ grip, but he held her all the tighter. Ligeia stifled a groan when she recognized Joy’s light soprano making its way up the stairs.

“Husband,” Joy said. She was panting. She was extremely overweight, and her face was perpetually red and shiny with perspiration. “I need your help.”

Finally, James released Ligeia, and she immediately sank into a curtsey for Joy. Joy glanced at her with derision. Ligeia hated the sense of guilt and anger she felt toward Joy. She hated the fact that Joy’s husband treated her like a wanton slut and she was expected to put up with it. But mostly, she hated how Joy grew angry with Ligeia for obeying James.

“How thee fare, wife?” James asked sarcastically. “Our little wench was just cleaning.” He pointed at the floor. “And doing a very poor job. What is all this mud?”

Ligeia’s ears burned. She could not tell the truth, that Thomas was responsible for the state of the room. “I will clean it all,” she promised meekly.
“No supper for you,” James said. He winked, and Ligeia shuddered.

“Go on,” Joy said. She gestured for Ligeia to kneel and once again begin scrubbing the floor. “Continue your work, wench.”

Joy and James left the room, talking amicably. Ligeia heaved a sigh and scrubbed with more force than ever before. She deeply wished to run away, but she had no money and no resources in Salem. The other household servants resented her. Ligeia wasn’t bound to servitude for life, and one day they’d be serving her themselves, and she had no companions in the home or in town. Ligeia was rarely allowed to leave the house, and when she was, she often was expected back in a strict timeframe. She’d had no contact with her own family since she’d left; her few letters had gone unanswered. More than once, Ligeia had thought perhaps James, or even Thomas, was responsible for taking the letters and hiding them. But then one day, she’d heard Joy saying how strange it was that Ligeia never received post from her family.

‘It’s like they forgot all about me,’ Ligeia thought sadly as she slopped a little more water and lye over the floorboards. ‘It’s like I never even existed.’

When she thought of her family, she pictured her brothers and sisters as young as they had been when she’d left. But she knew that Abigail was growing up. Maybe Father would find a place for her in Salem, too. Ligeia desperately wished for the opportunity to run away, but no such time ever presented itself.

Cleaning the floors of the Whittier home took the rest of the day. By the time Ligeia was through, she was exhausted and so hungry that she thought she might faint. She wasn’t looking forward to a cold night, alone in her tiny room, shivering and hungry.

“Girl!”

Ligeia’s head snapped up. The cook, Mary, snapped her fingers.

“Yes?”

Mary gestured for her to come closer. “Come here, wench,” she said. “You must go to the market and fetch fresh fish.” She stamped her foot in exasperation. “The little wench at the stove forgot it earlier, and Master James will be angry.”

Ligeia’s heart began to thump, and she nodded eagerly as Mary handed her a fistful of coins.

“And hurry!” Mary added in a sharp voice. “I can’t have Mistress Joy finding out, or she’ll whip the hide off my back.”

Ligeia pulled a cap over her dark hair and took her cloak from the washroom. The chilly air made her blood pump faster through her veins, but she welcomed a change from the dank, stuffy household. The Whittiers lived in close proximity to the market, but Ligeia knew that she had to hurry as it was almost time for the merchants to clear for the day.

The roads were muddy and slippery from last night’s sleet, and Ligeia stumbled, almost falling once. She pushed her way through the crowded streets, clutching the money tightly in her fist. When she was near a dark alley, she ducked inside and held the money close to her face, counting.

The cook had given her six shillings. Ligeia trembled, suddenly wishing she’d worn her warmer cloak and her thicker boots. She wouldn’t be able to get very far on six shillings, nor would she even be able to buy much food. Her back ached as she leaned against the brick wall, sobbing.

Suddenly, a flash of white hair in the street made Ligeia jump. She gasped as she emerged from the alley. Henrik Larsson, the strange man from Ipswich, was standing in the middle of the street, looking down at a piece of parchment.

“Henrik!” Ligeia cried.

Henrik looked up, frowning. When he saw Ligeia, he nodded. “Aye,” he said. “‘Tis Ligeia, the Arrowsmith girl.”

Ligeia lips her lips. They were dry and cracked. “Aye,” she said softly.

Henrik touched his forehead. “Well, good morrow to you,” he said. He turned around and began walking away from Ligeia.

“Ho!” Ligeia cried. She ran after Henrik, slipping and skidding on the muddy street. She was panting by the time she caught up with him. For such an old man, he had an interesting and slow way of moving down the street.
Henrik turned around, a curious smile on his lips. “Yes?”

“Prithee,” Ligeia begged, “help me.” She began to sob again. Henrik stood there, watching her for a moment with an emotionless look on his haggard face. Then he pulled her close, wrapping her in his cloak.

“I see you did not heed my warning,” Henrik said, but his voice was kind, “and now, you are suffering. Are you wed?”

Ligeia shook her head. She wiped her nose on her cloak and sniffled. “No,” she said. “I am not. But I am to wed within the year to Thomas Whittier.”

Henrik’s expression turned dark. “His cruelty is legendary for such a young man,” he said. “Your father sought to punish you, yes?”

“I do not know,” Ligeia cried helplessly. “I am a servant, and once I marry Thomas, a servant I will remain!” The sobs began to come in earnest, and she wept openly, burying her face in her hands.

“There, now, child,” Henrik said. He slid his fingers under Ligeia’s chin and tilted her face up to meet his. “Do not cry.”

“I cannot help myself,” Ligeia whimpered. “I cannot return to that home!” Her blue eyes flashed with hurt and desperation. “I cannot allow Thomas to beat me!”

“And beat you he will,” Henrik said. “Child, come closer.”

Ligeia obeyed.

“You must escape, yes?”

Ligeia nodded. “I do not know how,” she said softly. She bit her lip as tears streamed down her face. “I have no money, no friends, nothing!”

“Nothing but the six shillings in your hand,” Henrik said.

Ligeia stared at him. “How…how did you know that?”

Henrik gave a small shrug. “Now, child,” he said firmly, “you do not get to ask the questions right now. Do you want to escape, yes or no?” He sighed. “Time is running out for you, child.”

Ligeia nodded quickly. “Yes,” she said. “I am well aware.”

“Are you willing to risk your life?”

Ligeia nodded. “Yes,” she said. A flash of anxiety bolted through her body.

“Give me the shillings, child,” Henrik said. He held out his palm.

Ligeia hesitated. “I…I was supposed to buy fresh fish.”

Henrik shrugged. “Find a way to obtain it anyway,” he said. “I have no use for greedy children.”

Ligeia shoved the coins at him. “Here,” she spat.

“There is a forest at the edge of the village,” Henrik said. “Do you know it?”

Ligeia nodded. “Yes,” she said.

“Come tonight at the devil’s hour, three hours past midnight,” Henrik said. His eyes flashed with a bright light, and Ligeia felt hypnotized.

“At the devil’s hour,” she repeated, her lips barely moving.

“Yes, child,” Henrik said. He pocketed the coins, then gave her a gentle shove toward the market. “Tonight.”

The devil’s hour. The devil’s hour, Ligeia thought over and over as she darted through the stalls. Despite the late afternoon hour, the market was more crowded than she’d expected, and she found herself weaving in and out of masses of women and men. When she reached the fish stall, she stood for minutes unnoticed.

“Good morrow,” Ligeia said loudly, staring at the man in the stall. He ignored her.

“I said, good morrow!” Ligeia repeated, glaring angrily.

“May I assist you?” The man leaned in close, and Ligeia pointed to a fillet of salmon. But she realized he was speaking to the woman behind her.

‘How queer,’ Ligeia thought. ‘It’s…it’s almost as if I’m invisible!’

Her hand was shaking as she reached out and plucked a fillet of salmon from the counter. No one said anything. No one reached out to stop her or yelled that she was a thief.

Ligeia shivered. ‘I do not know what is happening,’ she thought nervously. ‘But tonight, I will be free.’

Chapter Five

I had never been more frightened. I was on the verge of running away – an act that would embarrass my family, and perhaps, if I were to be caught, even endanger my life. Life with the Whittier family in Salem was bad enough. I’d rather have killed myself than be captured and forced to return like some kind of runaway slave.

That was when I knew I had to do everything Henrik ordered. It was very strange to think that my only alliance in the world was a foreign man – maybe even a foreign man who worshipped the devil. It was curious. Even though only six months had passed since I’d left Ipswich, Henrik looked exactly the same, perhaps even younger. His grizzled white hair and face belied the appearance of an old man, but there was something in his eyes – a look that I’ll never forget – that seemed almost youthful.

Still, foreign or not, Henrik was my only hope to escape a life of abuse and assault at the hands of the men around me. Much as Thomas delighted in telling me of the horror that would come to pass once we were wed, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to escape his father, James, either. They were sadists.

And I was starting to realize that my family was equally sadistic. How could they have surrendered me to such cruelties without being evil themselves?

I was starting to realize that no matter how godly the people of Ipswich and Salem thought themselves to be, they were, in truth, the exact opposite.

The sky darkened as Ligeia ran home from the market, the fish clutched in her hands. She kept glancing down; the dead, glassy eyes reminded her of her own. Whenever she looked in the glass (and often when she was polishing it, by Joy’s order), Ligeia didn’t recognize the woman staring back. Her blue eyes were cold and hard, and her pale face was creased with worry and sadness. ‘Why, I don’t look four and ten at all,’ Ligeia had thought in horror. ‘I look like an old crone!’

Thunder boomed overhead, and pellets of rain stung Ligeia’s face as she hurried quickly back to the Whittier home. Her feet slipped in the mud, and twice, she almost risked losing the precious fish. But she arrived intact, and just as she began wiping her boots on the rushes at the front hall, the rain began to fall in earnest.

A painful set of fingers grabbed Ligeia’s ear and pulled. She cried out, pulling away and whirling around. The cook, Mary, stood there. She looked absolutely enraged.

“You stupid child,” Mary hissed. “Where the devil have you been?”

Ligeia held out the fish. “You sent me to market,” she said. “There was many a man more than I was expecting. The stall was busy.”

Mary tutted. She grabbed the fish from Ligeia’s hands and frowned. “Where are the coins?”

“I spent them,” Ligeia said. “On the fish.”

“You stupid child!” Mary repeated. “Six shillings, for this?” She waved the fish in the air. “‘Tis not worth half a farthing!”

“I am sorry,” Ligeia said. She hung her head.

“Dumb child,” Mary muttered under her breath. She shook her head. “Never the mind,” she said. “There is no time for anger now. Quick!” She barked at Ligeia. “Over to the stove. Help with supper!”

Ligeia nodded. She rinsed her hands in a bucket by the door, then hung her cloak. Her heart was thudding fast inside of her chest, and she couldn’t believe the encounter she’d had at the market. Why had Henrik agreed to help? And what kind of magic had he performed that made Ligeia invisible at the fish stall?

“Child, stop dawdling!” Mary growled. She was scaling the fish with her large, calloused hands as efficiently as a man. When she finished, she filleted and deboned the fish before tossing the raw chunks in a kettle filled with the leftovers from the middle meal.

The Whittiers were extraordinarily wealthy, even in the town of Salem which was far grander than Ipswich had been. Most colonists ate a single, large meal in the middle of the day, but James Whittier ordered a large supper – something that had been more common back at home, in England. When Ligeia thought of England, her heart ached. More than anything, she wanted to return.

‘And mayhap I will have the chance,’ she thought as she peeled potatoes on the stone counter. ‘Mayhap, with Henrik, I can do everything that I’ve ever dreamed of.’

“Child!” Mary snapped her fingers. “Are you dumb?” She chuckled at her own joke. “Potatoes and carrots in the stew, now!”

Ligeia nodded. She dumped the potatoes on top of the fish, inhaling the rich, salty fragrance coming from the cauldron. When she was finished, she hastily peeled a few carrots and tossed them in, admiring the way the rich, brown gravy looked as it coated white chunks of fish and vegetables.

“Has Master Thomas spoken with you?” Mary raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms across her chest. Despite her brash, bossy manner, Mary loved household gossip.

Ligeia bit her lip. “No,” she said shortly. “Aside from taunting me in the middle of the day and ruining my floors.”

Mary’s eyes went wide. “Oh, child,” she said. “Master Thomas has told his father that he wishes to be wed immediately.”

Ligeia’s heart sank, and panic welled inside of her chest. ‘No!’ She thought. ‘Now I won’t be able to escape! What if he knows what I’ve done? What if he had me followed?’

“Child, don’t worry,” Mary said kindly. “It won’t be as bad as all of that.”

‘Yes, you think that because you’re too fat and too old to be a target of lechery,’ Ligeia thought angrily. ‘You think that no one can touch you because you’re at the head of all the servants!’

“I think it will,” Ligeia said grimly. “I can’t help but think it will.”

“Master Thomas is a godly young man,” Mary said. “He is proud, that is all. He will calm with age.”

‘Yes,’ Ligeia thought. She glared down at her hands folded in her lap. ‘Once he is old, well, then he’ll be fine. And it won’t matter because I’ll likely be dead from constant pregnancy and childbirth.’

“You are dismissed, child,” Mary said curtly when it became clear that Ligeia wouldn’t divulge anything else. “Upstairs. Now!”

She spooned a small portion of the fish stew into an earthenware bowl and passed it to Ligeia.

“Your supper,” she added.

When Ligeia was almost out of the kitchen, Mary whistled. Ligeia stopped and turned around, looking at the older woman expectantly.

“Go,” Mary hissed. “And do not let anyone see you with that!” She pointed to the bowl. “We are not supposed to eat before the family; you know that!”

Ligeia felt a sudden surge of affection for the old cook. ‘With any hope, I will never see you again,’ she thought as she scampered up the back staircase. ‘With any hope, this will be the last meal I consume in the Whittier household.’

Upstairs, alone in the small attic room, Ligeia drank the soup and then reclined on her straw mattress, staring at the ceiling. Sneaking out to meet Henrik at three in the morning wouldn’t be an easy feat. Often, other servants woke as early as four. And in order to make it out of town and into the woods, Ligeia knew she would have to watch the moon to figure out the time.

Soon, sounds from below filled the attic. Ligeia shivered – she could practically hear Thomas’ booming voice all the way from downstairs. ‘I will not marry him,’ she thought. ‘I will refuse. Even if Henrik is attempting to trick me, I will run away. I’d rather die than become Thomas’ wife!’

Ligeia knew there was inherent risk in her plan. Henrik could be lying. He could have plotted a fantasy in Ligeia’s head. What would he do with her? Kidnap her and keep her as his own slave? Sell her?

Ligeia shivered. ‘Just a few more hours,’ she thought. ‘Just a few more hours, and then I will have my freedom.’

The hours and minutes crept by. Ligeia dozed fitfully, waking up with a start and then falling asleep again. She kept the window open despite the winter chill in the air. The rain had stopped and Salem was filled with the hazy, humid smell of moisture.

When she guessed that it was about a quarter past two in the morning, Ligeia pulled on her heaviest boots and cloak. She took the small leather purse that Father had given her before she left Ipswich. It was empty, but she planned to stop in the kitchen and grab whatever she could carry.

The house was silent as Ligeia crept down the stairs, holding a candle in one hand. When she reached the main floor, she was dismayed to hear that the fire was still crackling and burning. ‘They must have stayed up later than usual,’ she thought. ‘Normally, the fire would be all ashes at this time of night.’ Holding her breath, she snuck quietly across the floor.

“What cheer, Ligeia?”

Ligeia froze. Thomas stood in front of her, swaying with drunkenness. He was grinning like a fool, and his eyes glittered with savage lust.

“Pardon me, Thomas,” Ligeia said delicately. “I was just on my way to the kitchen for a drink of water.”

Thomas stuck out his foot and tripped Ligeia. She crashed to the floor, extinguishing the candle with the palm of her hand and screaming as the flame burned her skin.

“I dare say you will not be going anywhere for quite some time,” Thomas said. He squatted, toppling over from lack of balance. It was almost comical, but Ligeia couldn’t laugh. Her heart was in her throat as she tried to climb to her feet.

But despite his drunken behavior, Thomas was still strong and fast. He grabbed Ligeia’s wrists and pinned her to the floorboards, climbing on top of her. She kicked and struggled, but the heavy cloak made her as weak as a kitten, and soon, she found herself trapped completely beneath Thomas’ muscular bulk.

“I have waited long enough,” Thomas growled in Ligeia’s ear. “I have waited for you, and now you shall be mine. Tomorrow, we wed.” He snickered. “But tonight, we lie together as man and wife.” He grinned as he reached under Ligeia’s dress, ripping the petticoats away from her bare legs.

Ligeia shrieked with fright as Thomas pulled the cloth away from her bare body. She wriggled and squirmed, trying to fend off his advances as he kept her firmly in place. His breath reeked of onions and ale, and Ligeia shuddered each time Thomas tried pressing his damp mouth to hers.

“Stop!” Ligeia shrieked. “Thomas, stop it!” She yanked her arm free and cracked him over the head. The blow seemed to fall at just the right place, and for a moment, Thomas was too stunned to move. Ligeia grabbed his arm and pulled him off of her body, throwing him to the side and scrambling to her feet. Her heart thudded, and she glanced wildly around the room, looking for anything to use as a weapon.

Spotting the iron poker leaning against the hearth, Ligeia darted toward it. She grabbed it and swung it through the air, enjoying the feel of the iron gripped tightly in her sweaty hands.

“Oh, no,” Thomas said blearily. He got to his feet and reached for Ligeia, missing her and swearing under his breath. “You little wench, you can’t get away from me!” His menacing smile returned as he advanced on the girl, stumbling across the room.

“Stay away!” Ligeia shrieked. She swung the poker through the air, narrowly grazing the side of Thomas’ head. He cried out in pain, and she swung it again, bringing it down with a satisfying thwack!

Thomas crumpled to the floor.

“Thomas?” Ligeia stepped closer. Her heart skipped a beat, and a cold sweat broke out over her limbs. “Thomas?”

Thomas didn’t reply. His eyes were half-open, his lips parted. Spit bubbled at his mouth, and Ligeia gasped when she saw a dark pool of blood spreading from Thomas’ head over the wooden floorboards.

‘I’ve killed him,’ Ligeia realized. She was still gripping the poker in her hands, and without thinking about what to do next, she ran down the stairs and out of the Whittier home.

The sky was an inky, starless black as the clouds raced back and forth over the moon, providing minimal light for Ligeia’s escape. She ran as fast as she could, still gripping the fire poker in both of her small hands.

The town of Salem looked haunting and dangerous at night. Ligeia held her breath as she ran through the dark town, keeping to the quieter streets and alleys whenever she could.

Twice, Ligeia thought she heard footsteps from behind her. She quickened her pace, slipping and sliding in the mud and nearly falling more than once. She kept a firm hold of the fire poker the whole time, refusing to let go of the weapon that had likely saved her life.

Thoughts of Thomas lying dead on the floor filled Ligeia’s head as she ran and ran. Despite the fact that she’d committed one of the worst sins of all – taking another human life – she felt only relief…and a burning sense of shame that came from the relief itself.

Entering the woods felt like entering a different world. Ligeia gripped the poker and darted through the trees, crying out whenever a branch or twig snapped beneath her feet. After only a few moments, she saw an unearthly white glow fading through the trees.

“Henrik!” Ligeia yelled. “Henrik! ‘Tis I, Ligeia!”

Henrik appeared as if conjured from the darkness. His pale skin and white hair practically glowed in the forest light, and Ligeia gasped.

Henrik looked at the iron poker in Ligeia’s hands and chuckled.

“Have you come to kill me?”

Ligeia shook her head quickly, dropping the poker into the twigs below. Henrik tutted.

“You shan’t do that, child, if I have any clue as to what you used it for,” Henrik said.

Ligeia blushed. She grabbed the poker and held it behind her back.

“So, you’ve killed a man,” Henrik stated. “How does it feel?” His calm voice infuriated Ligeia.

“Are you teasing me?” Ligeia asked sharply. “Have you come to punish me, to bring me back to Salem in chains?”

Henrik threw his head back and laughed. “No, child,” he said. “Hush. No more of that talk!”
Tears filled Ligeia’s, eyes and she crumpled to the ground. Forgetting about the poker, she wrapped her skinny arms around her legs.

“The Whittier family will have me thrown in jail and hanged or burned,” she sniffled. “I killed their son!”

“Hush, child,” Henrik said. “There is no time for tears. You know that.” He reached down and gently but firmly pulled Ligeia upright to a standing position. “You are free,” he said. “And no harm shall come to you.”

Ligeia sniffled again. The guilt was still there, but it was starting to fade. She wondered if Henrik was using his spell craft again; she almost hoped that he was because it was quite ungodly to feel relief after committing such a heinous crime.

“You’re a witch,” Ligeia said softly.

Henrik shook his head. “A warlock,” he said.

Ligeia was full of strange feelings and conflict. She knew she should run from Henrik. He was evil, and not a godly man. But he had saved her. He seemed to have some kind of affinity for her – an affinity she could not understand, considering how infrequently they had actually exchanged words.
“Why are you helping me?”

Henrik laughed. “Because you are in need of help,” he said. “A blind man could see that.” He paused and looked at Ligeia until the hair on the back of her neck stood up. “And because you are a witch,” he said softly. “I have known since the first time I saw you.”

Ligeia shook her head. “No, that cannot be true! I cannot be evil!”

Henrik laughed again. “‘Tis not evil to be a witch,” he said. “Think, child. Haven’t you ever had experiences unlike any other? Visions? Dreams?”

Ligeia remembered the visions from years ago – the bucket filled with blood, the group of chanting men and women. She shivered.

“Dreams,” she said. “Mere dreams meant to tempt me away from the Lord.”

Henrik shook his head. “Visions,” he said. “Meant to alert you of your own power.”

Ligeia’s mouth grew dry. “Earlier, at the market…” She trailed off. “After you took my money, I realized I still had not purchased fish. I knew I could not possibly return to the Whittier home without it. They would punish me, and I would not be able to escape.”

“And you stole the fish, did you not?”

Ligeia nodded. Oddly, she felt more shame over the petty theft than over the murder of Thomas Whittier.

“Yes,” she said. “But the fishmonger…no one seemed to notice me. I just took it and walked away.”

“Your powers,” Henrik said. “You did that yourself.”

“No!” Ligeia cried. “I couldn’t have!”

“You did,” Henrik said seriously. “You are quite strong, child. And if you agree to come with me, you will find out just how strong for yourself.”

“I don’t believe in magic,” Ligeia said uncertainly. “It isn’t godly!”

Henrik laughed. “There are many great things in life,” he said. “Many of them are wonderful, and a great many of them are ungodly.”

Ligeia trembled in fear, but she didn’t run. She couldn’t help it. She was intrigued by Henrik and the stories he managed to weave with just words.

“I come from Sweden,” Henrik said. “From a powerful family, with ancient Viking ties.”

“Is…is your whole family witches?” Ligeia trembled. Something about the idea seemed awful to her.
Henrik looked grave. “No,” he said shortly. “My parents were killed at Mora years ago. They were not witches. They were merely suspected,” he said slowly. “‘Twas then that I fled Sweden for the New World, hoping to find a place of tolerance.”

The idea of tolerating witchcraft was so absurd that Ligeia laughed.

“Watch, child,” Henrik said. He waved his hand through the air. “Close your eyes and listen to your senses. Listen to what they tell you!”

Ligeia obediently closed her eyes. A warm gust of air blew over her body, and she gasped. She saw herself and Henrik standing together, hand in hand, over a stone ground etched with odd markings. They were wearing white robes and wearing stern but peaceful looks. Men and women danced around them, dressed all in black. The chant was haunting and strange, but somehow familiar.

Ligeia gasped when she recognized the sounds. It was the same sounds of the Latin chanting she’d heard years ago as a girl when she was still in Ipswich.

Ligeia opened her eyes. Henrik was giving her a kindly – if faintly sardonic – smile.

“Do you believe me now, child? Will you join me and embrace freedom?”

“Aye,” Ligeia whispered. “I will.”

Chapter Six

My life changed as drastically as day to night when I accepted Henrik’s offer. We disguised ourselves with magic – like Uther Pendragon, Henrik told me – and made our way out of the colony and to the north, where the land was rocky and mountainous and full of lush, verdant woods.

I thought I had known the idea of paradise. I thought paradise was a world after the earthly world, where the godly and the blessed sang and worshipped the Lord, day in and day out. There was no time, there was no age, and there were no earthly bonds like husband or mother. Men and women were but brothers and sisters, and they were happy, chaste, and protected from all evil.

After a month with Henrik, I learned that was no paradise at all. Paradise was freedom. Living in a small, wooden shack in the woods, eating whenever one wanted. Running and exercising and practicing natural healing and magic. Henrik taught me more than I’d learned in my fourteen years on earth. He said I had a natural aptitude for healing and that I must embrace all of my natural aptitudes.

In time, others joined us as well. The first two members of our coven were young girls that Henrik had found in villages, both with similar predicaments to mine. When they first came to us, their eyes were wide with fear, and they could barely speak without trembling. It was hard for me to believe that I’d once been the same – as skittish as a young fawn, and almost mute with shyness.

In my new life, I found a way to embrace myself that I’d never found before. I slept comfortably at night, knowing that I was living a life of freedom, without pain, and without cruelty.

And as for Master Thomas Whittier?

I rarely thought of him and the way he’d looked lying on the floor, dead.

---

Twenty miles west of Exeter, New Hampshire – 1692

“Ligeia! Mistress Ligeia!”

Ligeia turned in her chair and watched as a young woman ran into the room. She was clad in robes dyed dark blue with berries, and her pale hands were shaking.

“What is it?” Ligeia set her quill pen down on the crudely hewn wooden desk, glancing over her letter. “What is troubling you, child?”

“Master Henrik,” the girl said. “He wishes to speak with you!”

“Tell him I’m working,” Ligeia said. She sighed.

The young woman frowned. “He’s angry, Mistress,” she said softly. “He demanded I bring you.”

“Aye,” Ligeia said sarcastically. She stood up, brushing her hands off on her robes. Like the young woman’s, they were dyed a deep blue, but the linen was of a fine weave, and the robes suited her petite, slender frame. At three and twenty years old, Ligeia was of a similar stature as she had been years ago. But there was a wisdom in her blue eyes that hadn’t been there before, and she projected peace and calm wherever she went.
Henrik was waiting outside, scowling. He, too, was unchanged – his face only slightly more lined, his white hair a shade longer than it had been before.

“Yes? I was working on something, you know. I’ll need one of the younger women to gather inventory,” Ligeia said. “I need to ensure we have enough medicine for winter.”

“You’ve been going into the village again!” Henrik thundered. “I know it, Ligeia!”

“Aye,” Ligeia said. “I won’t lie to you, Henrik.” She shook her head sadly. “Henrik, those people…they have no idea of true medicine! They’re as likely to kill one another as they are to help.”

“Aye,” Henrik agreed. “But that is their business, is it not, Ligeia? These same people would have us burned if they knew our true identity! It is not up to you to save the very people who would condemn us!”

Ligeia sighed. Ever since she’d found a talent for medicine, she’d often dressed as a member of the godly and gone into a village, particularly when a woman was giving birth and in need of a midwife. She felt proud at the lives she’d saved, almost as if she’d atoned for the murder she’d committed years ago.

“Do not cross me, Ligeia,” Henrik said. “You threaten our existence!”

“That is not my intent,” Ligeia said calmly. “You told me years ago that I have a natural aptitude for healing and I must pursue it!”

“Yes, to heal those who would only wish you well,” Henrik snapped. “Ligeia, I forbid your involvement in the village affairs!” He lowered his voice. “All it takes is one mistake – one death – and you’ll be chased and likely killed!”

“But I haven’t made a mistake!” Ligeia persisted. “I have done everything well. Not a single person I have treated has died!”

Henrik sighed. “Do what thou wilt,” he said bitterly. “But know that you act against me, and without my support.”

“Aye,” Ligeia said stiffly. She turned on her heel and stalked back inside the cabin, continuing her lists of all the supplies they would need for the long winter ahead.

The rest of the day passed quietly. Ligeia supped with Henrik and the other witches of the coven, but her mind remained firmly on the people of the village of Exeter. Just last week, she’d been in town to deliver a woman suffering with a breeched babe. The babe and the woman had both lived, but they had been very weak. Ligeia had it in mind to return and offer some poppy for pain. From previous experience, she knew that the woman must still be suffering.

At nightfall, Ligeia shed her loose, comfortable robes and pulled on two petticoats, followed by an apron and a white cap atop her dark head. She took a few envelopes of the bitter-yet-effective powdered poppy in her leather purse and a flask of water, and then slipped out and began the long walk through the woods.

The town of Exeter reminded Ligeia of Ipswich, her childhood home. Every time she went to visit, she was flooded with nostalgia. She often thought of her parents. Were William and Constance still alive, or had they perished? And what of her brothers and sisters?

Ligeia spent only a few minutes in the home of the woman who had just delivered. The mother and babe were both doing better than expected, and Ligeia felt relieved. Somehow, after her conversation with Henrik, she had a nagging feeling that her arrival in the village would have yielded a horrifying discovery.

Just as she was leaving, she heard the patter of childish footsteps behind her.

“Miss, oh, miss! Prithee, stop!”

Ligeia turned on the muddy street to see a young girl chasing after her.
“Yes, child?”

“You must come,” the girl begged. Her cheeks were stained with tears. “It’s my mother. She’s given birth!”

“Child, if she’s already birthed, she will likely live,” Ligeia said. She felt weariness down to her bones. It was a feeling she was no longer used to experiencing, and more than anything else, she wished she were at home, in bed.

The child shook her head. Her blue eyes were wide with fear, and her dark hair was wild and uncombed about her shoulders.

“It is not like the other times, miss,” the child said. She sniffled. “I am worried! My mother is an older woman. This is the eighth child.”

Ligeia frowned. “Child, what is your name?”

The child trembled with fear. “Prudence,” she said softly. “Prudence Arrowsmith.”

Ligeia felt faint. ‘Oh, Mother!’ She thought in desperation. ‘Prithee, do not die!’

“I’ll come with you,” Ligeia said quickly. “But we must hurry.”

Prudence turned and darted down a dark alley. Ligeia followed, her feet barely making a sound as they landed. Prudence led the way into a small, stone cottage that was filled with smoke from the fire blazing in the hearth.

Ligeia could hardly believe her eyes. Her younger brothers had grown into young men, and they were sitting in front of the hearth, talking quietly. She didn’t see her younger sisters, Abigail and Drusilla, and wondered what had happened. Had they been married off?

“Here,” Prudence said. She took Ligeia into a small chamber. An elderly Constance reclined on a straw mattress. Her eyes were closed, and Ligeia panicked when she realized that her mother wasn’t breathing. It took every ounce of will not to throw herself into her mother’s arms and sob for forgiveness, but Ligeia knew she couldn’t disclose her true identity…at least, not yet.

Ligeia stepped close to the mattress and knelt by her mother’s side. When she took Constance’s hand in her own, she realized that Constance was already dead.
“She has passed,” Ligeia said softly. Sorrow and regret filled her, and tears came to her eyes.

“No!” Prudence threw herself on the bed and wailed, sobbing loudly. Ligeia pulled her younger sister into an embrace, and they rocked together. As Prudence sobbed, Ligeia closed her eyes and thought of her mother. All of the times Constance had gently chided her came rushing back tenfold, and Ligeia felt as though she could weep until her eyes were as dry as sand.
“I am sorry,” Ligeia said softly. “I arrived too late.”

The straw mattress under Constance’s body was soaked with blood. Ligeia pulled a sheet over her mother’s waist to hide the worst of the stains, then charged Prudence with bringing a bucket of water and some rags. For a time, the two sisters cleaned together in silence.

“There is nothing more I can do,” Ligeia said softly. “You must arrange for a funeral and a burial. Is your father at home?”

Prudence whimpered. “My father is dead,” she said softly. “He was sick for a long time, but I did not think he would die.”

The news hit Ligeia like a fist to her gut. She sniffled and dipped her head, hoping that Prudence wouldn’t see her cry. Straightening, she made sure to compose her face. ‘Oh, magic,’ she thought. ‘Serve me well. Allow me to remain calm. Allow me to summon strength from the depths of my will and guide this young child.’

“Where are your elder siblings?”

Prudence sniffled. “Abigail and Drusilla are wedded,” she said. “Abigail lives in Salem, and Drusilla is in Ipswich. John and Thomas are at home. Thomas can never leave. He is too soft.”

Ligeia stared. Her lips went white. Abigail had been in Salem, perhaps even during the same time as her! Oh, my sister, she thought desperately. I hope you are happier than I would have been!

“Who is the elder of the village?” Ligeia asked. “You must call upon him and make the arrangements for your mother.” It pained her to hide the truth from her younger sister, but Ligeia knew that Prudence should not be trusted with such sensitive information.

Prudence sniffled. “Elder Thorn,” she said. “Do you not know him? Do you not reside in the village?”

Ligeia thought of lying for a second. Instead, she shook her head. “No,” she said softly. “I do not dwell within Exeter. I hail from Ipswich, then from Salem. Now...well, child, I do not live nearby.”

Prudence stared for a moment. She was almost a perfect twin of her elder sister, and it was unnerving for Ligeia to look upon her. Ligeia was still in shock. She could not believe that she had finally failed to save a life…and the life that had been lost was one of the dearest possible.
“My family moved from Ipswich years ago,” Prudence said softly. “My eldest sister was promised in marriage to a young man from Salem.”

Ligeia’s heart began to pound. ‘Surely, she cannot know ‘tis me,’ she thought quickly. ‘Surely, she has never been told the whole truth!’

“And what happened, pray tell?” Ligeia asked softly. “Where is your eldest sister now?”

Prudence gave her a sad smile. “‘Tis but a mystery,” she said. “But she is likely dead. She ran away from the home in Salem after murdering her betrothed.” Prudence sighed. “It tore my family apart,” she whispered. “My mother and father could never forgive each other – or themselves – for allowing their daughter to commit the vilest of evil acts.”

Ligeia stiffened. “Mayhap your sister acted out of self-interest,” she said softly.

Prudence’s blue eyes were turbulent with anger. “No,” she said sharply. “My parents spoke of Ligeia as a headstrong, ungodly child – a child who paid no heed to their word, a child who was bound for a life of misery and noncompliance with the Lord.”

Pain shot through Ligeia’s heart and she forced herself to look sympathetic. It was more difficult than usual to control her emotions. Suddenly, she resented herself for disobeying Henrik. She felt selfish, willful, and guilty for tearing her family apart. ‘If only I had obeyed Father and Mother,’ Ligeia thought sadly. ‘None of this would have happened.’

The thought that she would have been miserable as the wife of Thomas Whittier did not cross Ligeia’s mind. She was wracked with guilt, and she felt as though she’d never recover.

“My eldest sister ruined my family,” Prudence spat. “She was a child of the devil. Mother and Father always said she couldn’t have come from God.”

A lump formed in Ligeia’s throat, and she stood up. “Child, may I be of further assistance?”

“No,” Prudence said. Hatred shone in her blue eyes. “You cannot.”

Chapter Seven

I went crawling back to the coven last night, feeling worse than I’d ever felt in my life. Prudence’s words haunted me. I couldn’t believe that such a young girl was already so fervent about religion. Somehow, that made me feel worse. What was wrong with me, that I’d never accepted the scripture as truth? What had happened to me to keep me unafraid of sin?

Why was I so selfish?

Henrik and the others seemed to sense a change, but no one spoke to me about it, not even Henrik himself. I ceased my visits to Exeter as well as all the surrounding New England villages. I threw myself into a work as a mistress of the coven and a healer, counseling everyone who sought my assistance. But I no longer disguised myself as a godly woman. I no longer wore dresses and petticoats, only robes – both plain, and ceremonial.

At Samhain, three new witches joined our Coven. Henrik and I planned an elaborate ritual, followed by a feast. We slaughtered deer, bear, and moose to keep for winter. Henrik often compared our coven to the coven of Avalon back in Arthurian times. But I never felt prosperous or happy again. Prudence’s words stayed in my head, and even though I knew I could never return to a normal, godly life, I felt as though staying with the coven was doing a disservice to both myself and the other practitioners of witchcraft.

---

Twenty miles west of Exeter, New Hampshire – 1693

At four and twenty years old, Ligeia was no longer a young woman. She often spent solitary days alone, away from Henrik and the other witches as she studied plants, herbs, and the craft of healing.

A year had passed since Constance’s death. Ligeia had tried to give herself time to mourn – time to mourn Constance, William, and the life that she’d never had. At first, she’d thought that with enough time, she would overcome all of her sadness and trials. But the guilt plagued Ligeia, and eventually, she ceased speaking except for the occasional affirmation or argument.

Henrik was bothered by the changes in his companion. Despite his aloof behavior, Ligeia knew he cared for the coven more than anything else in the world. One day, he came to Ligeia’s small hut and knocked on the door.

“Mistress,” he called. “You are much missed within the circle. Rejoin your family, Ligeia.”

Ligeia stared. She had not disclosed what had happened, but she felt the weight of Constance’s death more with each passing day.

“I cannot,” Ligeia said simply. She attempted to walk past Henrik, but he grabbed her arm, pulling her close.

“Mistress Ligeia,” Henrik said sarcastically. “You forget to whom you owe respect. Have you forgotten ‘twas I that saved you from a life of misery?”

The dam that had been building inside Ligeia for almost a year broke loose. Tears streamed down her face, and she looked away, letting her long, dark hair fall in her face.

“Mistress Ligeia!” Henrik softened, tilting her face toward his. “What has happened?”

Ligeia shrank from his touch. “My own sister found me the last time I returned to the village,” she said.

Henrik’s eyes went wide. “And she knows about us? Did you disclose knowledge of the coven?”

“No!” Ligeia said. “She came to me because her mother – our mother – was giving birth. But the babe arrived, and Mother perished before I could intervene.” Ligeia began to sob, burying her face in her pale hands. “I am useless,” she said softly.

“Even the best of magic cannot save lives,” Henrik said. He shook his head. “Ligeia, what were you expecting to happen? That your family would be pleased to know about what happened in Salem? When I took you in, I made you a promise that no harm would come to you. Ligeia, I intend to keep that promise. But you cannot continue to compromise the safety of the coven!”

“I know!” Ligeia screamed. Her sadness melted into rage, and she snarled in Henrik’s face. “You’ve ruined everything! Without you, I would still have my family!”

Henrik threw his head back and laughed. “The family who sold you into misery? That family? The family who called you ungodly and selfish?”

“I am ungodly and selfish!” Ligeia roared. “And ‘tis all the fault of you!”

Henrik laughed. “You’re a fool to blame that upon me,” he said. “Have you never considered the life of unhappiness you would have endured at the hands of Thomas Whittier? You realize he would have kept you as a meek servant, do you not?”

Ligeia shivered. “At least my family would not have turned their backs on me,” she said softly. “At least I would have that.”

Henrik shook his head. He glared at Ligeia in disgust. “You are a fool,” he repeated. “My Sight never lies, Ligeia. I saw you miserable, and you were indeed miserable. I took pity on you because I could sense the power and magic deep within your soul.”

Ligeia shook her head. She wanted to argue, to tell Henrik that he was wrong, that she would have lived a satisfactory and happy existence as Mrs. Thomas Whittier.

But deep down, she knew that he was absolutely correct. She knew that Thomas would have abused her, made her miserable and unhappy for the rest of her days. She shuddered. I could even be dead, she thought. ‘I could have died in childbirth, just like Mother. And Abigail and Drusilla – what of them?’

“Think on it, Mistress,” Henrik said angrily. “But you must know that I’m correct.”

He stalked past Ligeia, angrily shoving her with his shoulder. She stayed rooted firmly to the spot, silently fuming with anger and guilt.

---

The week passed uneventfully, and Ligeia kept even more to herself than before. She began taking meals alone in her hut, staying up until the sky was streaked with light and studying the art of healing until her eyes ached from reading.

One such night, Ligeia was startled to hear the door of her cabin burst open. One of the younger witches, a girl named Faith, ran into the room, panting.

“What is it?” Ligeia asked. Her heart slammed against her ribs. “Is it Henrik? Is he injured?”

“No, Mistress,” Faith said. “There is news from Salem!”

Ligeia’s heart sank. “My sisters,” she said softly. “Abigail and Drusilla!”

“No, miss,” Faith said quickly. Her cheeks were pale and bloodless. “Prudence – Prudence Arrowsmith!”

Ligeia stood up and grabbed Faith by the shoulders, shaking her quickly.

“You must tell me! You must!”

“Prudence Arrowsmith is on the hunt for witchcraft,” Faith said quickly. “She has spoken to the town magistrate and arranged for the burning of five young girls.”

Ligeia felt faint. She gripped the back of her chair until her knuckles went white. “That cannot be,” she said softly. “That cannot be possible!”

“Aye,” Faith said. “But ‘tis, Ligeia.”

Ligeia grabbed her cloak and ran to Henrik’s cabin. Unsurprisingly, he was awake, sitting in front of the hearth, warming his hands.

“Henrik!” Ligeia cried. “Henrik!”

Henrik frowned, but when he saw the genuine concern on Ligeia’s face, he stood up and ran to her, pulling her into his strong arms. For a moment, Ligeia sobbed against the chest of her oldest friend. Then the panic came back, and she pulled away, pacing back and forth in front of the flames.
“I did not tell you before,” Ligeia said quickly, “although you may have surmised. My sisters, Abigail and Drusilla, were both sent to Salem to be married. And now my younger sister Prudence is there, as well!”

“And I assume you want to intervene, to pull her close,” Henrik said.

“No! She has told the village magistrate that witchcraft is taking place, and five young girls have been sentenced to burn! To die, at the stake!”

Henrik sighed softly. “Ligeia–”

“It’s my fault,” Ligeia said quickly. “It’s my fault that I didn’t speak up, that I did not disclose my true identity to Prudence before.”

Henrik scoffed. “And you think that would have made a difference in the child? She is a fanatic, Ligeia! There is no helping someone like that – no turning them away from the Lord and back to rational thought!”

“Henrik, she’s going to have five innocent girls murdered!” The hair on the back of Ligeia’s neck stood up. True witches could survive such a sentence; the fire would not burn them. But innocent women had no such power, and Ligeia felt sick to her stomach as she imagined the scent of roasting human flesh singing her nostrils.

“And you wish to travel to Salem, to prevent this?”

“Aye,” Ligeia said. “I do.”

To her shock, Henrik nodded. “Aye,” he said. “This might be a chance to redeem yourself, Ligeia. Redeem yourself in own your eyes.”

Ligeia felt shaky and nervous with fear as she fled the coven. She packed a small bag and raced through the forest, disguising herself and traveling through the air as fast as a demon. It took hours to reach Salem when it would have taken a normal human days, and Ligeia reached the small village just as the sun was shining high in the sky.

As quickly as she could, she ran to the magistrate’s house. The door was bolted and locked, and Ligeia pounded her fists, screaming for help.

No one answered the door. Panic consumed her, and she raced through the town, not even thinking about what would happen if she saw a member of the Whittier family. There was a crowd gathered at the marketplace, and Ligeia’s heart sank when she saw the five stakes piled high with straw.

Young Prudence, looking absurdly mature for her three and ten years, was standing at the front of the crowd.

Ligeia stared at her sister. ‘Come to me,’ she thought, summoning her strength. ‘Leave the crowd and follow me.’ For a moment, she was horrified by the thought that her magic might not work on such a godly young woman. But Prudence’s face grew dazed, and she wandered away from the crowd.

Ligeia grabbed Prudence by the elbow and yanked her behind a building. Prudence gasped.

“‘Tis you!”

“Yes,” Ligeia said angrily, “‘tis I. Your sister, Ligeia!”

Prudence gasped in horror and started to scream, but Ligeia muttered a quick incantation and soon, Prudence’s voice was reduced to a whisper.

“Yes,” Ligeia repeated. “I am your sister, and I have done awful, unspeakable acts, Prudence. But these five young women – they are innocent. You must release them! Do not kill innocent women just because you’re seeking the true evildoers of the world!”

Prudence’s blue eyes heated with anger. “I should have known ‘twas you,” she said angrily. “You are the spawn of the devil, the most evil!” She narrowed her eyes and spat. “And I shall not bend to your will and do your bidding!”

“Release the young women,” Ligeia ordered. Her eyes flashed with light and magic. “Do not make me force you, Prudence! Do the right thing – the godly thing!”

“These women are not godly, and neither are you!” Prudence said hotly. “I hate you, sister. I wish that I had never met you. You killed our mother.”

“I did not,” Ligeia said. She felt shock and horror as she stared at her sister in disbelief. “She was dead when I arrived,” she said. “You are aware of that, sister. You know that, do you not?”

“I think you killed her with witchcraft!” Prudence said. “You murdered her just to increase my suffering!”

Ligeia stared at her sister in shock. “Come, sister,” she begged. “Do not make such accusations! Are we not of the same blood?”

Prudence slapped Ligeia across the face. It didn’t hurt exactly, but Ligeia felt cold with shock and panic. As Ligeia stared at her villainous younger sister, she realized that she was never meant to be an Arrowsmith all along; she had always been wicked, she had always been different.

Ligeia waved her hand over her sister’s face, muttering in Latin: “Ne obliviscaris, et ne obliviscaris, delere!”

Prudence’s blue eyes glazed, and her pupils shrank and grew smaller.

“Forget….” Prudence mumbled under her breath. She stumbled away from Ligeia, looking dazed. Ligeia watched her sister for another moment, making sure that the spell had worked correctly. Prudence stumbled slowly down the alley, holding her arms in front of her like the walking dead.

Ligeia smelled smoke. Her heart began to race. I’m too late, she realized in a blind panic. She began to run toward the center of town, her feet racing beneath her. To her horror, five young girls had been tied to the stakes. They were all crying, tears streaming down their faces as they screamed for help. The townspeople gathered around them booed and hissed. Ligeia gasped when she recognized Joy Whittier sneering and throwing tomatoes toward the accused girls.

Ligeia hid herself behind a stall, keeping her eyes locked on the girls at the stakes. She pulled a handful of herbs from her pocket and crumbled them in her fingers, smelling the fresh scent and calling to mind the power of the coven. As she watched the magistrate step forward with a flaming torch in his hand, the screams of the young girls almost broke her concentration. But Ligeia summoned every ounce of strength in her body. She stared, narrowing her gaze and chanting under her breath until her mind was flooded with the images of the girls twisting at the stake.

As Ligeia stared and chanted, her mind opened. ‘These girls are yet innocent,’ she realized. ‘But they have the power to become witches, to open their minds and escape from the confines of the godly life.’

“Vivo risus non uror,” Ligeia whispered again and again. “Vivo risus non uror! Vivo risus non uror!”

The girls’ shrieking stopped as the flames licked higher and higher. Ligeia stared grimly ahead, desperately repeating the incantation under her breath. ‘This will allow them to survive the flames,’ she thought. ‘They will realize their true power, and hopefully embrace it. The flame should only tickle and not burn.’

Smoke filled the Salem marketplace, and the jeering and screaming of the crowd began to die down. As the girls sagged against their bonds, people slowly began to filter away from the marketplace. Soon, everyone but the magistrate was gone, but the flames were still burning high, sending columns of black smoke into the sky.

Ligeia gathered her petticoats in her hands and ran toward the girls. With a wave of her hand, the fire was extinguished.

They stared at her in shock.

“I am Ligeia Arrowsmith,” Ligeia said, almost proudly. “And you will all be coming with me.”

Chapter Eight

When I returned to the coven with five girls in tow, I knew that I’d made amends. Henrik was proud. Although he didn’t say so, I didn’t need to hear the words to know. He told me that my strength as a witch exceeded his wildest expectations, and that I had made a successful contribution to the coven.

I never saw my sister Prudence – or any of my other family members – ever again. I heard many a report from those in the coven who traveled to villages that Prudence had gone dumb. She spent the rest of her life in a daze, wandering from place to place, a glassy look in her eyes, and her lips slow to move. I did not regret cursing her. The hatred in her eyes had been unmistakable, and I knew that she was finally getting what she had long deserved.

In a way, I still felt guilty. Prudence had very likely been indoctrinated by my father; I wondered just how devout he had become before death. But that did not excuse her wild demands and cries for the murder of innocent girls. After I rescued the girls from Salem, no one else was burned at the stake. Life returned to a state of almost normal, and for many years, the coven was happy.

Times changed. The centuries shifted, and the former colonies became their own country. Henrik and I aged slowly – our power kept us relatively young at mind and in the heart. Religious fervor gripped the country, but our coven was always safe. Henrik and I shared a bond more powerful than any on Earth.

Eventually, I forgot about my old life completely.

But just because the times had changed did not mean that my coven and witches were free of danger…

---

The woods outside of Jaffrey, New Hampshire – Present Day

It was a crisp fall day. Henrik and Ligeia walked through the woods, arm in arm, collecting mushrooms and various herbs.

“I had a vision last night,” Henrik said stiffly.

Ligeia snickered. “And you’re quite sure it wasn’t the wine?”

“No,” Henrik said shortly. “‘Twas not the wine.” He sighed, groaning as he leaned against the trunk of a tree.

“Well, what then?”

“A young girl – nearby, in town – has a familiar spirit,” Henrik said slowly. “A spirit very familiar to that of your sister, Prudence Arrowsmith.”

The name sent a chill through Ligeia, and she shuddered. “It has been years since I even thought of my family,” she said softly. “What did you see, friend?”

Henrik sighed. “Nothing good,” he said. “This girl… she is young, but powerful, is fervent, and determined to rid the world of demonic activity and witches.”

Ligeia frowned. “And she is aware of us?”

“No,” Henrik said. “Aware of a young witch – a young witch who is much like those girls from Salem many years ago.”

Ligeia frowned. “And you want to intervene?” She raised an eyebrow. “That is most unusual, Henrik – most unusual for you.”

“I did not want to alarm you,” Henrik said unsteadily. “But when I say a familiar spirit, I believe she is a reincarnation of your sister. I believe she is dangerous.”

Ligeia took a deep breath. “I am sure it is not as bad as all that,” she said softly. “After all, we live in a rational world. People are all too proud of their science, their designs. No one fears us now,” she said. “Which is a good thing, I know.”

“This girl is different,” Henrik insisted.

Ligeia fell silent. For a moment, there was no sound other than their feet crunching dead leaves. Henrik escorted her back to her small hut, and Ligeia locked the door before building a raging fire in the hearth. When the flames were as high as her shoulders, she tossed a handful of rosemary and lavender into the fire. The fragrant smoke soothed her, pulling into a headspace of magic and tranquility.

Ligeia took her looking glass from the mantle and held it close to her face. ‘Show me the girl,’ she thought as she stared into the glass. ‘Show her to me; make me see what Henrik sees.’

The glass fogged and swirled, as if covered with mist. But after a few seconds, the mist cleared and a girl – perhaps four and ten at the oldest – appeared to Ligeia. In no physical way did she resemble Prudence Arrowsmith. Her hair was light brown, and her face was round, almost chubby. But her eyes belied the same evil fire, the same ‘godly’ drive that Ligeia had seen so obviously in her younger sister.

The sight was shocking. Ligeia felt the strength drain from her body as she focused harder and harder, watching as the girl’s thoughts opened to her. She learned that the girl was attempting to expose one of her friends as a witch – one of her friends who surely had powers but was likely still unaware.

Ligeia set the glass down and closed her eyes. She breathed in the fragrant smoke, summoning Henrik to her cabin. After only a few seconds, his face appeared in the fire.

“She is dangerous,” Ligeia said. The flames flickered in her blue eyes as she spoke. “You must stop her. We must bring the girl she seeks to accuse here and give her warning.”

Henrik chuckled. “I am pleased to see you’re taking this seriously,” he said, “because we could all be in grave danger. Grave danger, indeed.”

“You must spirit her friend, Monica, away,” Ligeia said. Knowledge was blossoming in her mind with each passing second, and she felt her body weakening with the force of the ritual.

Henrik chuckled again. “Aye. She will be frightened,” he said. “Just as you were, Ligeia.”

“She will survive,” Ligeia said dryly. “But we must hurry.”

Henrik dipped his head in a signal of respect. “Aye,” he said. “Worry not. She will be safe, and so will we all.”

“May it pass,” Ligeia whispered into the dying fire, “may this danger pass swiftly.”

---

A day later, Henrik brought the girl to Ligeia. She looked even younger than Ligeia had suspected, with fine, blonde hair layered around her face and big, brown eyes. Ligeia chuckled. This girl had evident strength about her that seemed to radiate off her body in waves.

“Who…who are you?” The girl swallowed. “I want to go home!”

“Soon,” Henrik promised. “This is Ligeia Arrowsmith. She is the mistress of the coven.”

The girl gasped. “Not you, too,” she said. “This guy keeps trying to tell me that he’s a warlock!”

Ligeia chuckled. “Aye,” she said. “That may well be because he is indeed a warlock, but that isn’t any of your concern right now.” She patted the stone bench. “Come, child. Sit.”

The blonde girl stepped forward nervously. Ligeia could tell she was fighting the power.
“I won’t hurt you,” Ligeia said. “You have to trust me.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” the girl retorted.

“Child, what is your name?”

“Monica,” she said defensively. “Monica Boer.”

“And tell me, Monica, have you not noticed anything strange, anything unusual, going on around town?”

Monica stiffened. “How…how did you know?”

Ligeia smiled serenely. “You don’t think we could just spirit you away, do you?” She laughed at the surprised look on Monica’s face. “Dear child, we were behind the activity.”

“You murdered a bunch of my neighbor’s cattle,” Monica said angrily. “Why?”

“We sacrificed them to ensure your protection,” Henrik corrected. “Someone you call a friend is out to hurt you, Monica. Someone very powerful. Someone reincarnated from your worst nightmare.”

Monica shivered. Ligeia put a homespun cloak around her shoulders.

“Child, do not be afraid,” Ligeia said softly. “I was like you once. Afraid and surrounded by people who called themselves godly. But they were not godly at all. They were cowards and prone to making false accusations.”

“I don’t believe you,” Monica said. She began to cry, and Henrik and Ligeia exchanged an annoyed glance as the girl sobbed.

“Andrea D’Amico is a powerful girl,” Ligeia said. “She is a descendant of my sister, Prudence Arrowsmith.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me,” Monica sobbed. “I wanna go home! I don’t care!”

“Child! Cease this,” Henrik said sharply.

Ligeia glared at him. “I promise, you are safe,” she said softly. “But you must listen to Henrik and myself. You can go home very soon – as soon as you understand.”

“Understand what?”

“You’re a witch, Monica,” Ligeia said softly. “You have very strong powers.”

“Aye,” Henrik agreed. “And you may not have believed me, but you ought to listen to the mistress. She is wise, child. She knows.”

“What happened to you?” Monica sniffed.

“I was born to a Puritan family in England, but my family moved to Ipswich to seek their version of religious freedom,” Ligeia said. “The people in England were too worldly – too bold – and my father thought they were all damned. He thought we, too, would be damned if we stayed. So, we left.”

Monica listened, obviously interested. Her tears dried up, and she pulled the cloak tightly around her shoulders.

“My younger sister, Prudence, was born shortly before I had to leave home,” Ligeia said. “My parents gave me to a family in Salem, a wicked, rich family who sought to make me miserable. I escaped because of Henrik. He saved my life.”

“That was hundreds of years ago,” Monica said slowly. She reached out to touch Ligeia’s shoulder, the cold tips of her fingers brushing Ligeia’s cloak.

“Aye,” Ligeia said. “But the powerful do not age like normal humans, Monica. We do not shrivel and die – we can sustain ourselves for long past a normal human lifespan.”

“My fanatical sister has been reborn as your friend, Andrea,” Ligeia said softly. “And unless you work with Henrik and myself, everything is at stake.”

Monica shook her head. “That…that can’t be true,” she said slowly. “Andrea’s crazy, but she’s not that crazy. She wouldn’t, like, hurt anyone.”

“Are you positive about that?” Ligeia stroked Monica’s back. “Can you not recall a time when you angered or frightened her?”

Monica’s eyes glazed over, and after a few moments, she nodded.

“The séance,” Monica said dimly. “It frightened Andrea so badly that she wouldn’t speak to me for months.”

Ligeia nodded. “Andrea does not realize that witches are not evil,” she said slowly. “She is just like the Puritans of my time: hell-bent on destroying anyone who isn’t like her.”

“But what if I talked to her?” Monica swallowed. “Isn’t there some way I could make her understand that she’s wrong? I don’t want to hurt her,” she said fearfully. “I mean, I don’t like her. But I don’t want anything bad to happen to her, either.”

“Harm shall come to everyone unless you help,” Henrik said strongly. “You must accept your fate, Monica. You are one of us, and you will help us…or else everything you know, life as it stands, will change forever. Your town and your home and your family will all be destroyed if Andrea has her way.”

Monica blinked. “I don’t believe it,” she said slowly. “I don’t believe anything that bad could happen.”

“It is true,” Ligeia said. “Jaffrey will be the scene of the biggest witch hunt of all time unless you intervene. You must work with Henrik and myself.” She paused. “I could force you, but it would be better if you agree.”

Monica’s brown eyes shone with fear. “And what if I consent? What then?”

“Then you get to go home,” Henrik said. “For a time. You will watch Andrea. You will observe her every move. You will ensure that she remains in the dark.”

Monica looked frightened.

“‘Tis for the best, child,” Ligeia said softly. “‘Tis what must be done.”

As Henrik led a mute and dazed Monica back toward her home, Ligeia sat in front of the fire, contemplating her next move.

‘I will not let you win, Prudence,’ Ligeia thought as she stared into the licking, hungry flames. ‘I will not let you triumph over my coven.’ ’

THE END

Book 2: The Ritual

Chapter One

Elizabeth – Present Day

You know that moment right before you wake up, when you’re almost still dreaming? You can see the light and the shadows playing in front of your eyelids, and you’re warm and wrapped up and comfortable?

Sometimes, I wished I could stay like that forever. It sounds crazy. Even I know that. But sometimes, I can’t shake the thought of how much I want to disappear from the world.

When I keep feeling like that for more than a few minutes, the guilt starts to seep in. ‘I have a great life,’ I think. ‘I shouldn’t want to escape from everything.’

But I can’t help myself. That’s part of being human.

The morning after my twenty-second birthday, I was in one of those moods. Spring had come early, and the windows were open. A fresh breeze was blowing in, the kind that we normally wouldn’t get until much later in the season. Steven or Karen or someone had done laundry that week, and the duvet still smelled like fresh cotton. ‘This is heaven,’ I thought as I nuzzled the pillow, refusing to open my eyes. ‘I wish I never had to get up.’

The second that thought flashed through my head, the bedroom door opened with the same creak as always. We lived in an old house, and the wood was always swelling and bloating with the change of the seasons.

“Morning, beautiful.” Steven’s voice was raspy. The pillow next to me was cool, but I could tell that he hadn’t been awake for long.

I yawned, covering my mouth with both hands and rubbed my eyes.

“You gotta stop doing that, babe,” Steven said. He reached for my hands and held them tightly in his own. “You’re gonna ruin the skin around your eyes.”

I snorted. “Come on,” I said. “I’m only twenty-one. Don’t you think I have a few years left to worry about that?”

Steven snickered. I felt the bed shifting with his weight as he leaned over and kissed my forehead. He smelled good – musky, but in a clean way. Almost like sandalwood.

“You’re twenty-two,” Steven said. He tapped the tip of my nose with his finger. “Or did you forget that, too?”

I opened my eyes and laughed. Already, the desire to vanish into half-sleep for eternity was starting to fade and seem ridiculous. It always did when I was around people. Whenever I had to make conversation or think about the real world, I couldn’t disappear inside my subconscious.

“I remember,” I groaned as I sat up in bed and yawned again, stretching my arms over my head.

Steven shook his head. “You still sleep like a kid, though.” He snorted. “That was some storm we had last night. You hear that?”

I shook my head and frowned. “What storm?”

“It was huge,” Steven said. He ran his hands through his thick, brown hair. “Thunder and lightning. Shit, I think there was hail.” He raised an eyebrow at me.

I blinked. “Wow! I must have really been out.”

Steven nodded. “Six cocktails before dinner will do that to ya,” he said. He pulled me into a clumsy embrace, rubbing my back with one of his oversized hands. “How ya feelin’, kid?”

I licked my lips and swallowed. “Hungover.” Actually, until I said that, I hadn’t been feeling particularly bad. But now that I was sitting up in bed, my head ached like it was filled with wet cement. My lips and tongue were dry and papery, and I was so thirsty that my gut was cramped and twisted.

“Poor kid.” Steven handed me a cup of water. “I put this here last night, but you didn’t even wake up.”

I drank greedily until my stomach felt like it would burst. Burping softly, I wiped my lips and handed the cup back to Steven.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Good.” Steven flashed a big grin toward me. “Because I have a plan for today.”

“You do?” I frowned. “I have to study, remember? The GRE is next week.”

Steven looked guilty. “So, I may have done something about that,” he said uneasily. He shifted forward and crossed his fingers in his lap. “Remember how you told me the other day that you weren’t sure if you’d be ready by next week?”

I nodded.

“Well, I called the board and rescheduled your test for next month. I know your internship is over in a couple of weeks, and since I’m making more now, I thought you could use the extra free time to study.”

My jaw dropped. “Steven!” I grinned. “I can’t believe you did that!” I shook my head and laughed. “I know that should probably piss me off, but I don’t care. Wow. Best birthday present ever. Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?”

Steven shrugged. His face lit up with a shy smile – the kind I hadn’t actually seen in years. All of a sudden, I was fifteen years old again.

“You look happy,” Steven said. He grinned, and all traces of the adolescent gawkiness disappeared.

“I am,” I said. “Why, do I normally not look like it?”

Steven opened his mouth and then shrugged. “I know you’ve been under a lot of stress lately,” he said. “But I bet when you get into grad school and really get settled, things will be easier.”

I bit my lip. “I hope you’re right.”

“Anyway, get dressed,” Steven said. He stretched and bounded off the bed in a single fluid motion. “Wear something comfortable,” he said with a wink.

I giggled. “I can’t believe you’re trying to surprise me,” I said. “This is so not like you!”

Steven flashed me a grin before walking into the hall. “I know, babe,” he said. “See you soon.”

When I was alone again, I yawned and rubbed my eyes. My little moment of selfish escapism had passed, and I was already starting to emerge from the fog of my hangover. At twenty-two, I wasn’t exactly old. ‘Still,’ I thought weakly as I climbed out of bed, ‘really shouldn’t be pounding tequila whenever I have the chance.’

Remembering Steven’s advice on dressing comfortably, I pulled on my favorite distressed-boyfriend jeans and a flowy peasant top that hung off one shoulder. I grabbed a jacket – spring in New Hampshire feels like a warm version of winter, even on sunny days – and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

Downstairs, I found Steven and Karen sitting at the table together. Steven was sipping coffee and glancing down at the news on his tablet. I laughed, and he looked up.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I said, sliding into an empty chair. “You just look so much like a teacher right now. It’s funny.”

Steven smirked. “I am a teacher,” he said smugly. “At least, I like to think so.”

“Hey, Elizabeth,” Karen said. “I made bacon. Want some?”

My stomach rumbled, and I nodded. Karen passed me a plate loaded with greasy slices, and I grabbed a few. The salty, savory taste spread through my mouth, and I closed my eyes.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. “This is good.”

“Not a problem.” Karen smiled politely before getting up and walking out of the kitchen. I glanced after her for a few seconds before turning my attention to Steven.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing,” I said. “She’s nice. She’s a good roommate.”

“Especially because she makes bacon,” Steven teased. “But yeah, she’s fine.” He yawned. “Still hoping this whole place will be ours someday.”

I frowned. I loved the big, old farmhouse where we all lived, but I couldn’t see just Steven and myself living there. I knew that I wouldn’t exactly be making much in grad school, and Steven made a decent salary as a teacher, but it wasn’t the kind of money that could buy a house. Until recently, we’d had another roommate, Paul. But he’d left for a military deployment. We’d found Karen on Craigslist about two weeks later, and, while she was quiet, I thought she was a good fit.

“Come on,” Steven said before I had a chance to ask him about it. “Let’s go.”

--

Steven drove us out of Jaffrey toward Pitcher Mountain. “I thought we could take a lazy hike,” he said. “Then maybe we could go into Peterborough for lunch. There’s a new deli that looks good – lots of craft beer on tap.”

I nodded. “That sounds nice,” I said. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sun’s warmth on my face. I wasn’t much of a hiker – Steven was by far the more athletic – but I loved the idea of spending a lazy day in the sun with my boyfriend.

To my relief, Steven suggested the easier path. Pitcher Mountain wasn’t huge – only a little more than two thousand feet – and in the summer, it was covered with patches of blueberries. I had to admit that it looked beautiful in the early spring. Buds covered the trees, and the grass was just beginning to glow again from a long, dreary winter.

We walked together in silence. Steven reached for my hand and squeezed. “I know I don’t tell you a lot,” he said in a low voice as we rounded a corner and started uphill. “But I appreciate you, Elizabeth. You mean so much to me.”

I bit my lip, smiling self-consciously. “I know,” I said softly. I squeezed Steven’s hand, and he squeezed back. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

“We have,” Steven said. He cleared his throat, and I waited, wondering if he would say anything else. But then he swallowed. I watched as a muscle ticked in his jaw.

“I’m happy we’re together now,” I said. “I hated when you weren’t here.”

“I know.” Steven sighed. He ran a hand through his hair. In the sun, it looked almost blond again, like it had when we were kids. “But maybe I had to go away for a while, you know? I had to realize how much we meant to each other.”

I nodded. “I know. I missed you every day.”

Steven squeezed my hand. “I missed you, too,” he said. Suddenly, he stopped walking. “Elizabeth, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” My heart skipped a beat in my chest, and I felt my fingers trembling. Steven locked eyes with me, then dropped down on one knee. I gasped as he pulled a small, velvet box from his pocket and opened it up to reveal a sparkling diamond solitaire.

“Oh, my god,” I murmured. “What is this?”

“Marry me, Elizabeth,” Steven said. “I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Make me the happiest man on Earth and say yes.”

Tears flooded my eyes, and I started nodding rapidly, bobbing my head up and down. “Yes,” I whispered hotly. “Yes.”

Steven leapt from the ground and pulled me into a tight embrace. He nuzzled my hair, and I tilted my face up to meet his lips. We kissed, and I felt tears spilling from my eyes as Steven locked his arms around me.

“I feel like I’m going to hyperventilate,” I said, wiping my eyes and laughing. “I feel like I’m having a heart attack!”

Steven pulled the solitaire ring from the box and slid it on the third finger of my left hand. It fit perfectly, and I stared down, enraptured by the shiny diamond twinkling on my hand. It was large, but understated – a simple round cut set in six prongs of white gold.

“This is so beautiful,” I said softly. “How did you find this?”

Steven grinned. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me close. “I had a lucky guess,” he said. He kissed the side of my forehead.

Right then, I was so glad to be alive. I couldn’t believe how happy I was. Being engaged seemed natural. Steven and I had been together for almost seven years – not counting the two years we were apart – and he was my best friend. Whenever I closed my eyes and thought about the future, Steven was there by my side.

“I love you,” I said softly. The tears came back to my eyes. “I wish Monica was here.”

Steven squeezed me again. “Do you ever think about what happened to her?”

A lump formed in my throat, and I nodded. “Every day,” I admitted quietly. “I can’t not think about her, you know?”

Steven nodded. “I know.” He sighed. “I do, too.”

“David probably killed her,” I said bitterly. “Asshole.”

Steven clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Yep,” he said. “That’s probably what happened.”

Chapter Two

Elizabeth – Seven Years Earlier

“Elizabeth, come on,” Monica whined. She crossed her arms over her narrow chest and stared at me. “You know we can’t throw a party. Especially not right now.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why not? Your parents aren’t coming back until Monday; they won’t ever know.” We kept walking away from the school, toward home on the main road.

“It’s not that,” Monica said. “You know Jamie and Brian don’t care.” She narrowed her brown eyes. She paused and stood rooted firmly on the side of the road. A car passed, and her blonde hair whirled in the breeze, obscuring her face.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s everything else,” Monica said. “You know – all this shit that’s been going on around here.” She sighed and closed her eyes. For a moment, her pale features were so still that she looked like a corpse. Then she opened her lids and sighed dramatically.

“Like what?” I stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“My neighbor, Gene, found all six of his dairy cows dead,” Monica said. “Like, last week. Someone had snuck into the field and slit their throats.”

I shivered. “That’s creepy,” I said. “But I don’t think someone who killed a bunch of cows is going to attack us because we have a party.”

“It’s not just that,” Monica insisted. As always, when she was getting worked up about something, her voice rose to a higher pitch. “Whoever did it splashed the blood all over the side of Gene’s house.”

“It was probably a bunch of bored jocks,” I said. I groaned as a truck full of football players drove past, staring at Monica and me with obvious teenage lust in their eyes. “Like those assholes,” I muttered.

“It’s not just Gene’s cows, though,” Monica said. “What about all those people who’ve had robberies and burglaries lately?”

I frowned. “I think my mom mentioned something about that,” I said.

“Yeah,” Monica said. She gestured wildly with her hands. “Like, someone breaks in and makes a mess, but they don’t take anything. Why would anyone do that?”

I shrugged. “My mom said something about how if someone wants drug money, they’re not going to take the time to sell anything. Maybe nobody has cash lying around anymore.”

Monica shrugged. “It seems…worse than that,” she said. A deep crease appeared in her pale forehead. “I don’t know.”

“Come on, wouldn’t it be safer if we had a party? Lots of people around,” I said. I jerked my head in the direction of home. “Let’s go.”

“Yeah but if something bad happened, their parents would sue Jamie and Brian,” Monica said darkly. “Everyone hates my family as it is.”

“You worry too much,” I said firmly. “Nothing is going to happen, Monica. Everything’s fine. It’s just a party.”

“You just want an excuse to call Steven,” Monica teased. She smirked.

I blushed hotly. “That is not true,” I said firmly. “I don’t care about him.”

“Yes, you do,” Monica said.

“He hasn’t called me in weeks,” I said flatly. It was hard to keep from deflating when I thought of Steven D’Amico. A popular junior at our high school, I’d had a crush on him since the first time I saw him. He wasn’t a jerk, either; that was one of the things I liked about him. He was cool, but he wasn’t like the rest of the assholes who played football.

Monica rolled her eyes. “His mother is nuts,” she said. “She probably got jealous.”

In spite of myself, I snickered. “Their family is a little weird.” My stomach twisted, and I tried to shrug off the bad feeling creeping into it.

“A little weird? Are you serious?”

‘Shit,’ I thought. ‘Why did I have to say that?’

“A little weird, honestly, Elizabeth?” Monica asked bossily.

“Just because Andrea is a freak doesn’t mean Steven is,” I said. “Come on, she was scared. She’s like a little kid.”

“She is a little kid,” Monica said sourly. “She’s only fourteen.”

“Just because she skipped kindergarten doesn’t mean she’s smarter than you,” I said carefully.

“Obviously,” Monica replied. “If she were smart, she wouldn’t have acted like such a little kid last year.”

I cringed. The previous year, Monica and Andrea had held a séance in Monica’s attic. Monica and I had been doing that for years. It had been one of our favorite things to do as kids. But since we got into high school, we stopped. Then one day, Andrea came up to Monica and asked if she could help her contact her recently dead grandmother. I still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened – I hadn’t been there – but somehow, the séance had gone badly. Andrea had run out of Monica’s house, sobbing uncontrollably. Mrs. D’Amico had called Monica’s parents, and while they hadn’t punished Monica, they’d warned her not to do that again.

“She couldn’t help it,” I said. “She’s so naïve.”

“She’s a little brat,” Monica said. “She seriously told me that I’m possessed.”

I snorted. “That’s ridiculous,” I said.

“I know.” Monica’s brown eyes flashed with anger. “Steven’s lucky he’s not crazy like his stupid sister. Have fun dealing with her when you and Steven start dating.”

“We’re not going to start dating,” I said stubbornly. “I told you. He’s been ignoring me for weeks.”

“Poor baby,” Monica said dryly. “So, you really want a stupid party, huh?”

I nodded.

“And you wanna call Steven and ask if he can come?”

I nodded again.

“Fine,” Monica said. “But if my house is a wreck, you’re staying to help me clean it up. And no disappearing upstairs with Steven! Don’t leave me alone.”

I laughed. “Okay.”

“I’m serious, Elizabeth.”

“I said okay!”

“Good.” Monica looked satisfied for the first time since we’d begun our walk home. “I’m going to call David and ask if he can drive down. I haven’t seen him in, like, a month.”

I bit my lip. “Sounds good,” I lied. “I’ll be over around seven.”

Monica and I hugged and then we parted ways. We lived on opposite sides of the small town…granted, that was less than a quarter of mile. Monica’s parents, Jamie and Brian, were old hippies. Before they’d had Monica, they’d actually lived in a nudist colony. They had an old farmhouse on the outskirts of Jaffrey. I lived with my parents and my younger brother, Aidan, in a newer development. Jaffrey was a small place – I’d known most of my classmates since elementary school – but I didn’t mind. I wasn’t one of those people who was dying to get out to a big city. I’d always loved living in New Hampshire because it felt so different than everywhere else. It wasn’t for everyone. That was why I liked it so much.

Monica, on the other hand, was constantly unhappy that her parents had picked such a ‘desert.’ She couldn’t wait to graduate and go to college in the biggest city she could find. Every summer, she went to camp for teen members of Mensa, and that was where she had met David.

When Monica had come home from camp about three months ago, she’d gushed about David until I thought my head was going to explode. I’d never really seen her get like that about anyone before. Monica was the understated to my loud; hearing her talk about a guy for hours on end was a little unnerving. By the time I met David, my expectations were sky-high.

He didn’t exactly meet them, either.

Monica’s parents had told her to invite David up for a weekend. She’d invited me over for dinner, and amongst the Tibetan kitsch that Jamie had strewn around the family home, I tried to get to know my best friend’s new boyfriend.

I still remember it like it was yesterday.

The evening had gone incredibly poorly. Afterwards, Monica had explained that David must have been nervous…he wasn’t normally so arrogant. But I wasn’t sure I believed her. David had a magnetic energy about him, but not necessarily in a good way. He seemed like the kind of person who would either wind up a reclusive genius or a serial killer. He looked the part, too – dressed in black from head to toe, with a perpetual smirk and longish black hair that flopped over his coal-black eyes.

I was hoping he wouldn’t be able to make it tonight.

The house was empty when I got home. My brother, Aidan, had just started playing junior-high football, and he was usually at practice for hours. My mom worked as a nurse at a hospital in Keene, and my dad was traveling for business. I took a long bath, then made myself a tomato and mayonnaise sandwich. As I nibbled the crust, I flipped through the channels, wondering how I would work up the nerve to call Steven.

Finally, I bit my lip and grabbed my phone. It took three times to get enough signal for the call to go out, and I shifted nervously on the couch as I listened to the muted ringing on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Elizabeth Hartsell. I’m calling for Steven. Is he available?”

“Oh, hi Elizabeth.” I recognized Andrea’s high-pitched voice. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” I swallowed nervously.

“That math test was so bad,” Andrea said. “I studied, but it was like, when I sat down, the answers weren’t in my head.”

“I know,” I complained. “I hate math.”

“What are you doing this weekend?”

“Um, not much. Is Steven around?”

“I think he’s in his room.”

“Can I talk to him?”

“Why?”

I groaned inwardly. Annoyance flashed through my mind, followed almost immediately by guilt.

“I have to ask him something,” I said.

“You can tell me,” Andrea said. “I’ll go ask for you.”

I sighed. “Andrea, sorry, may I please speak to your brother?”

“Fine.” There was a loud click as Andrea set the phone down. I heard her muffled footsteps and her voice calling for Steven. He yelled something back, and a few seconds later, I heard the phone click back on.

“Hey Elizabeth.”

I blushed. “Hi.”

“What’s up?”

“Monica’s parents are out of town this weekend, and she’s having a party later. You wanna come?”

Steven chuckled. His voice was deeper than so many of the other guys at school – on the phone, he sounded like an adult. “Hold on a sec,” Steven said. “I’m taking the phone in my room.”

I heard Andrea’s loud protest in the background, and I couldn’t keep myself from silently cursing at her.

A few seconds later, Steven said, “What time?”

“I think around eight.”

“Yeah, I’ll drop by for a little bit.” Steven yawned. “I’m getting pizza with some of the guys later. You care if they come, too?”

“No,” I said. Disappointment seeped through my veins. If Steven showed up with a bunch of jocks, I knew he wouldn’t pay any attention to me.

“Cool. Well, I’ll see you, Elizabeth.”

“See you.”

We hung up, but I sat on my couch for a long time, clutching my phone in my hand.

--

Two hours later, I bounded up the steps to Monica’s parents’ house. The Boers had done little to modernize the farmhouse. There was heat and running water, but little else. They didn’t even have a full kitchen. Monica’s mother, Jamie, went shopping every day and kept the food in a little miniature refrigerator, like the kind of thing you’d see in a dorm room. Her father, Brian, had a garden out back, and he hunted and shot most of the meat the family ate. There was a huge freezer in the basement stocked full of venison and bear.

I’d always been intrigued by the way Monica lived with her parents. For one thing, they trusted her absolutely. It wasn’t unusual for them to leave her alone for three or four days at a time. For another, they never really worried about her. They told her that they were proud of her no matter what she did, as long as she wanted to do it well. That made me jealous. When I’d been younger, my parents had been tough on me. My brother, Aidan, was thirteen, but my mom and dad still treated him like the baby of the family. He got everything he wanted, and I was the one who had to do most of the chores around the house.

Monica opened the front door before I had the chance to knock. She’d changed into a slim-fitting black dress, but her feet were bare and her fine, blonde hair was knotted messily at the top of her head.

“I fell asleep as soon as I got home,” Monica said. She frowned, scratching her chin. “I was so tired all of a sudden. It was crazy. I felt almost like someone had drugged me.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Monica said. “I feel better. You want some pasta?”

I shook my head. Now that I knew Steven was coming, I was a jangle of nerves.

“Steven’s coming. He’s going out for dinner with some friends, and then they’re all dropping by.”

Monica nodded. “I still haven’t called David,” she said. “Give me a minute, will you?”

I wandered through the Boer’s living room as Monica flopped on the couch and dialed her boyfriend. Jamie had collected trinkets from almost every country in the world, and I opened a glass-paneled bookshelf to reveal a selection of Tibetan books about the dead.

“Don’t read those,” Monica called over. “You won’t be able to sleep.”

Intrigued, I pulled one of the books free and started flipping through. I tried to tune out Monica’s voice as I gazed down at the intricate illustrations and ancient designs. They were both cool and terrifying; a picture of a tortured-looking soul flying out of its body made me shudder.

Monica’s voice cut loudly through the room. “Fine,” she said. “Bye.”

“What’s wrong?” I hastily replaced the Tibetan book and closed the shelf.

“He can’t come because he’s going to a party at the University of Burlington,” Monica said sourly. She frowned. “I can’t believe him.”

Privately, I was glad even if I hated seeing my friend upset.

“That sucks,” I said. “Maybe he already had plans.”

“He doesn’t even want to go there when he graduates,” Monica grumbled. “I don’t know why he wants to go tonight.”

I shrugged. “Maybe he wants to make older friends?”

Monica glared at me. “Like older girls?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said quickly. “Come on, let’s move this stuff.” I gestured toward some of the fragile glass art that Jamie and Brian had collected. “Your parents would be so pissed if anything is broken.”

Monica sighed. “They’d probably just tell me it was meant to happen,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Mom is really on this big, serendipity kick lately.”

Still, she helped me move some of the bigger pieces into her father’s study.

“Hey, reach up to the doorframe,” Monica said. “There’s a key there. We should lock this stuff up so no one goes in.”

“That’s awfully paranoid of you.”

“Elizabeth, please,” Monica said bossily. “You’re taller. I can’t reach.”

I stretched and felt around the top of the doorframe. Sure enough, my fingers closed around a heavy brass key. After locking the door, I returned the key to its home on the dusty frame.

A knock sounded at the door, and Monica looked at me in panic. “Go answer that,” she said quickly. “I need to finish getting dressed.”

I nodded and darted through the sunny, dusty rooms. I yanked open the door and gasped when I saw Steven standing there, surrounded by six other guys. I knew them all – small town, after all – but they were all juniors and seniors, and we weren’t close.

“Hey,” Steven said. He grinned. “You live here now?”

I laughed harder than necessary. “Monica’s upstairs,” I said. “She’ll be down soon.”

Steven held up a case of beer. One of his friends whooped and held up a brown paper bag with a big bottleneck sticking out.

“We brought stuff,” Steven said modestly. “Can we come in?”

I nodded. Just being around Steven made my palms sweat and my heart race. He looked really hot in a black t-shirt and dark jeans. His blond hair was pushed back from his forehead, and his skin was remarkably still tanned from the summer. As he walked into the kitchen, he brushed against my side. Shivers raced down my spine.

I followed, watching as he set the case of beer on the counter.

“They got a fridge?”

“Not a big one.” I pointed to the small fridge in the corner of the room.

Steven laughed. His eyes crinkled up and he looked adorable and goofy. “Monica’s parents are real hippies, wow,” he muttered as he looked around.

“Yeah.”

“My parents think they’re like, devil-worshippers,” Steven said. He raised an eyebrow. “Andrea still has nightmares about that stupid séance.”

“Oh, god, do not mention that to Monica,” I said. “She hates thinking about it.”

“So do I,” Steven said. “My parents made us go to church every day for a month after that happened.” He cleared his throat, then pulled open the cardboard case. “You want a drink?”

After a moment’s hesitation, I nodded. Steven tossed me a lukewarm can, and I opened it. The sour, yeasty smell of the beer made me want to gag, but I opened my lips and poured about half of the drink down my throat at once.

“Damn,” Steven said. He gave me an appreciative glance. “You’re a badass, Hartsell.”

I blushed hotly. Just as I was about to reply, Steven’s friends rushed into the room. They grabbed beer from the case, toasted, then popped open the cans and drank loudly. One of them burped, and I bit my lip, so I wouldn’t groan.

“Hey, Elizabeth, come outside for a second,” Steven said. He jerked his head toward the door.

One of his friends made a moaning noise, and Steven punched him gently on the shoulder. I rolled my eyes and tried not to blush as I followed Steven through the crowd of guys.

Steven opened the kitchen door and walked out into Monica’s backyard. The trees were hung with copper and steel ‘art’ that Jamie had made. There was a nice fall breeze, but I could tell the night was going to be one of the first cold ones this year.

“Hey,” Steven said softly, “I hope I didn’t say anything weird, you know, about Andrea and Monica.”

I shook my head. “No,” I replied. I wasn’t about to tell him Monica’s true feelings about his sister, even if I did share them at times.

“Andrea’s a little different,” Steven said. He took a long swig of beer, then walked over to a large oak tree and leaned against the trunk.

“She’s just young,” I said. “She’ll grow up. I changed a lot in the past year.”

Steven let his gaze slide down my body, and I blushed hotly.

“I’ve noticed,” he said coolly. “But you were never like Andrea.”

I frowned, “How?”

He sighed. “She’s just…she’s so naïve,” Steven said. “She thinks that the world revolves around her, and if she’s not getting attention, she acts out. Our mom is so happy right now because Andrea’s been going to church every day. She thinks she’s really serious about God.”

“And you don’t?”

Steven shrugged. “Honestly, I think she does it for attention,” he said slowly. “I think she’s unhappy about growing up and not being the baby of the family anymore.”

I nodded and scowled. “My little brother is in eighth grade, and my parents still treat him like a five-year-old,” I said. “They don’t realize he’s starting to grow up.”

“Andrea wishes Mom and Dad would do that,” Steven said dryly. He laughed.

There was a pause, and I bit my lip. A horn honked from the street over and I jumped, almost spilling my beer over my feet.

“Hey,” I said suddenly. “Why did you stop calling me?”

Steven’s cheeks showed the faintest hint of pink, but he cleared his throat and took a drink. “It’s stupid,” he said. “You’d laugh.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why? What happened?”

Steven sighed. “My mom wasn’t really happy about the idea of me…I don’t know, dating or whatever.” He swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his lean throat. “She told me you were too young.”

I snorted. “I’m only a year younger than you.”

“Yeah, but Andrea’s in your grade.”

“She’s a year younger than me,” I said. “Come on – even you said I’m nothing like her.”

Steven shrugged. “It’s more than that,” he said. “It’s like…my mom doesn’t really approve of teenagers…” He trailed off nervously. “Like, she wouldn’t want me to have a girlfriend. I think she’s worried I’d get someone pregnant.”

My cheeks burned flame red at the idea of Steven and me having sex.

“Not that I plan on doing that,” Steven said quickly. “I mean, with anyone.” He coughed again.

The silence came back, only this time it felt more awkward. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I hope I didn’t say anything.”

Steven shrugged. Suddenly, there was a loud sound in the woods – like a loud, piercing screech. I jumped in the air, dropping my beer and spilling it all over my shoes. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I knew that it wasn’t just from being around Steven.

“What was that?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe some kind of animal?”

Steven frowned. “It didn’t sound like anything that would be back there,” he said slowly.

I glanced up and stared at a helicopter flying low across the sky. It flew over Monica’s house and toward the woods, the blades loudly chopping through the air.

“Holy shit,” Steven said. “Something’s really going on.”

I nodded. I knew it was irrational, but a weird feeling of dread had come over me, almost like I was afraid of something. The problem was that I had no idea why I was feeling that way.

“I’m being so weird,” I said, kicking a clod of grass. “I’m not usually this jumpy.”

Steven smirked. He licked his lips and stepped closer. “I didn’t think so,” he said in a low voice. “You seem nervous.”

I bit my lip. “I’m not,” I protested weakly.

Steven stepped even closer, bridging the gap between our bodies. He reached for my hand and laced his fingers with mine, squeezing my palm. Then he pulled me against his body and put his other arm around my waist.

“I really like you, Elizabeth,” Steven said. He swallowed. There was no smugness or mocking in his blue eyes.

“I like you, too.” I licked my lips.

Steven bent down and kissed me. At first, it was awkward, but then Steven shifted his head to the side and angled his lips against mine. A hot thrill shot through my body, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close.

The sound of a door banging made us leap apart. When I spun around, Monica was standing at the back door with an incredulous look on her face. I blushed.

“Steven, your friends are trashing my kitchen,” Monica called. She smirked. “You think you can get them to stop?”

“Uh, yeah.” Steven jogged into the house. “Sorry!”

Monica walked over and raised her eyebrow. “So much for not leaving me alone.”

“You were getting dressed.” I flushed. “You didn’t have to interrupt.”

Monica rolled her eyes. “Come on,” she said. “We should get back inside before those assholes break everything in the house.”

With a groan, I turned and followed her.

I couldn’t believe it, but in the short time I’d been outside with Steven, a ton of kids had shown up. Half of the school was there – the rooms were so crowded I could barely weave my way through. Someone had turned on the Boers’ stereo, and loud music was thumping. The wooden floors of the house were shaking, and for a moment, I seriously believed the upper story would collapse onto the lower.

Inside my chest, my heart was pounding and thumping like crazy. I couldn’t believe that Steven had actually kissed me. My head was suddenly filled with thoughts: ‘Was he going to ask me out?’, ‘Would he just start ignoring me again?’

One of Steven’s friends bumped into me and spilled his beer. My legs were drenched with cold, sour-smelling foam, and I cried out and jumped into the air.

The guy glanced down. His scarred, acne-inflamed cheeks pinked, and he shrugged. “Sorry,” he muttered. “That was an accident.”

I pushed past him and ran up the stairs before locking myself in the upstairs bathroom. The sink was old, and it took the water ages to turn warm. I pulled off my jeans and shoved them under the tap, scrubbing them with the strong lavender soap Monica’s mother used for cleaning everything. By the time I found an ancient hair dryer under the sink, I was freezing. I blow-dried my jeans until they were only a little damp, then washed my hands and face and went back downstairs.

To my surprise, Monica was sitting in the living room alone. “I made everyone leave,” she said. “I don’t feel well.”

I frowned. “Some asshole spilled beer on me,” I said. I flopped down next to her on the couch. “You okay?”

Monica groaned. “We have so much cleaning to do tomorrow.” She gestured around the room, and I winced at the display of plastic cups and beer cans. “This blows.”

“I know.” I felt guilty. I was the one who had prodded her into having people over. “I’ll help.” The slight buzz I’d felt earlier from drinking in the backyard with Steven was already beginning to fade, and I suddenly wished that I was home, in bed. My wet jeans were uncomfortable and cold, and Monica was in the most peevish mood I’d seen her in recently.

“Just put on a movie or something,” I said. “I’m going to take these jeans off.”

Monica tossed me a knitted afghan from the corner of the couch, and I snuggled underneath, yawning and flopping around until I was comfortable.

“You got what you wanted, at least,” Monica said smugly.

I blushed. “I don’t know what he’s going to do,” I said. “He told me his mom didn’t want him to have a girlfriend.”

Monica raised her eyebrow. “And then he made out with you,” she said. “So there.”

I bit my lip. “I guess you’re right,” I said softly.

Monica grinned. “I know,” she said. “I always am.”

Chapter Three

I woke up cold and groggy on a foam pad on Monica’s floor. There were three blankets on top of me, and I’d borrowed a pair of Monica’s father’s pajama pants, but I was still freezing. The floor beneath the foam was hard and uneven, and I yawned, pulling the blankets around my face and closing my eyes.

“I’ve been up for hours,” Monica said. She sounded bored, and I sat up, rubbing my eyes. She was sitting up in bed, fully dressed, reading something on her computer.

“Sorry.” I yawned again. Somewhere, in the depths of my brain, I knew that I’d had another dream about Steven. But judging from Monica’s annoyed expression, I knew I shouldn’t say anything. We’d stayed up until three in the morning, and I’d talked about Steven until my throat had gone hoarse.

“We need to clean up,” Monica said. She closed her laptop and got out of bed.

“Can we eat first?” I blinked sleepily. “I’m starving.”

“I need to spend the afternoon writing an essay,” Monica said. “You should probably leave soon.”

I frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Monica opened her mouth as if to reply, but then bit her lip and shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “Come on. The downstairs is a mess.”

Monica and I were silent as we collected the cans and plastic cups and put everything in garbage bags. We opened her father’s study and moved the art back into the rest of the house, making sure that everything looked the same.

“Jamie and Brian really don’t care,” Monica said. “They just want to make sure nothing was broken.”

“You know, you can tell me if something is bothering you,” I said slowly. “I talk about my problems all the time. I don’t want to feel like I’m burdening you.”

Monica shook her head again. “Nothing,” she said. Her brown eyes flashed with annoyance. “I’m fine.”

‘Obviously,’ I thought sarcastically as I carried the big bags of garbage out to the curb. ‘Probably something with David. She’s probably just mad he went to a college party instead of coming here.’

To my surprise, when I went back inside, Monica jerked her head toward the woods. “Hey, you wanna walk?”

“I thought you had to write a paper?”

Monica shrugged. “I should,” she said, “but I really don’t have to, at least not right now.”

“Okay…” I paused. “You worried about being alone?”

Monica didn’t reply. She grabbed a jean jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. I followed her back through the house and out the kitchen door. The woods looked thick and ominous even in broad daylight. I shivered.

Monica set off at a remarkably fast pace, and I had to pant and jog to keep up. She was about a head shorter than me, and it was a sore point, ever since she’d once been mistaken for my younger sister. Normally, she was the one who had to trot to keep along with me. But she was making big, purposeful strides across the damp earth, and by the time we got to the tree line, I was already winded.

“Keep up,” Monica said over her shoulder.

I gazed around at the verdant forest, thinking of how it would feel to walk with Steven alone in the woods. ‘Maybe he’d press me against a tree and kiss me,’ I thought. I glanced down and bit my lip so I wouldn’t blush. My body tingled whenever I thought of Steven’s lips against mine, and I sighed softly.

“Hello,” Monica said. “I asked you a question.”

My head snapped up. “Huh?”

“I said, ‘Remember when we used to come out here? When we were kids?’”

“Oh.” I nodded quickly. “Yeah, definitely.”

Monica sat down on a rock and propped her elbows on her knees before resting her chin her small fists. “You’re going to be obsessed with Steven now,” she said.

“Come on.” I rolled my eyes, even though I knew she wasn’t exactly wrong. “That won’t happen. We’ll always be best friends.”

Monica shook her head.

“That’s not fair,” I told her. I didn’t like standing over her; it made me suddenly aware of how guilty I was. I sat on the ground, not caring if my jeans got dirty.

“It is,” Monica said stubbornly.

“You started dating David first,” I told her. “And I didn’t care then.”

“That’s different,” Monica said. “He lives in Vermont. He doesn’t go to school with us.” She puffed out her cheeks and blew a steady stream of frustration into the air.

“It’s not like I’m going to start spending all my time with him,” I said. “His mother doesn’t even–”

“Hey, stop for a second.” Monica climbed off the rock and pointed her finger into the woods. “Look.”

Frowning, I turned around. There was a large tree lying on the ground, freshly cut. We walked closer, and I jumped when a small twig snapped under my foot.

“Did we have a storm or something?”

“No,” Monica said. “Look. This was cut.” She pointed to the trunk. A shiver ran down my spine when I saw the crude cuts along the bark. They started about halfway down the tree, which had maybe been about twenty feet off the ground. Long, sharp cuts.

“Maybe a bear did this,” I suggested. “Like, got up on its hind legs.” I mimed scratching through the air, shaping my fingers into claws.

“I don’t think we have bears at this time of year,” Monica said doubtfully. “Aren’t they like, preparing to hibernate?”

“Besides,” I added quietly, “this tree is way too big for a bear to knock down.”

“Yeah. It’s too wide.” Monica reached down and tried to wrap her arms around the tree.

I giggled. Monica stood up, brushing the dust and dirt from her arms. “I have a four-foot-five arm span,” she said. “This tree was even wider than that.” She looked down at the base. “Something was really hacking against this.”

“There’s another one,” I said. I pointed a few feet away. “Look. It’s right there.”

Monica nodded. We walked closer, where there was a small clearing in the woods with grass and herbs. I gasped when I realized there were six downed trees in a crude circle around the outer edges of the clearing.

“Maybe some kid is doing an Eagle Scout project,” I said. “Like, they’re making a trail. For little kids.”

Monica shook her head. “These woods are private,” she said. “They wouldn’t do that.” She shivered. “It’s creepy, though, don’t you think? With everything else going on?”

I shrugged. “I don’t really see it,” I said. “It’s not like the same person who killed all those cows would want to cut down a bunch of trees and then just leave them.”

Monica stared at me with a serious expression on her small face. “Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense,” I said. “I don’t know what happened. Maybe the trees were just sick and they collapsed on their own.”

“Then what about the scratches?”

I groaned. “I don’t know,” I said. “This is dumb, though. Let’s go back.”

Monica shoved her fists in her pockets and stalked out of the woods. I followed at a slower pace, daydreaming about Steven. I wondered if I’d see him on Monday.

I wondered when he’d kiss me again.

When we were almost back to Monica’s house, she stopped dead in her tracks.

“Elizabeth,” Monica said shakily, “come here.”

“What?” I jogged over, enjoying the feel of the cool breeze against my face. “What’s wrong?”

“Look.” Monica pointed down at the ground.

There was a knife sticking out of the soil. I squatted down and wrapped my fingers around the handle; it looked like it was made out of ancient wood, or maybe bone. The knife was almost warm to the touch, like someone had been touching it just a few seconds ago. I gasped as I pulled it out of the ground. The blade was easily eight or nine inches long, and it gleamed in the late morning sun.

“What the fuck?” I mumbled. “Look at this.” I passed it to Monica. She grabbed it without hesitating, examining the handle.

“This is bone,” Monica said softly. “It’s old, too. See these?” She pointed toward a small set of etching along the handle. “They’re runes. I remember those from that mythology class last year.”

“Someone probably forgot it,” I said. “Maybe they were using it for hunting, and they dropped it.”

“The blade was buried in the ground,” Monica said. “I don’t think knives just land like that.”

“Maybe this one did,” I replied. I shrugged. “It probably doesn’t mean anything.”

Monica wasn’t listening. She was turning the knife over and over in her hands, staring at it intently. She lifted the blade to her face, holding it inches away from her eyes as she stared at the metal. She even closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side, holding the knife to her ear as if to listen.

“What?” I stared at her. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” Monica said. Her voice was toneless. “It just feels weird, somehow.” She patted the handle before looking up at me. “I’m going to work on my paper now,” she said coolly. “I’ll see you later, Elizabeth.”

Before I could reply, my best friend had turned on her heels and started walking back toward her house. I almost ran after her. Something about her behavior was really bothering me. But Monica wasn’t a pushover, and I knew that she’d only be angry with me for demanding to know what was on her mind.

With a sigh, I headed home.

--

I didn’t do very much for the rest of the weekend. It sounds stupid, but I was afraid to leave the house in case Steven called. My parents wouldn’t let me have a smartphone – I only had a phone that could text and call – and I didn’t get reception unless I was at school or at home.

When Monica ignored three of my texts in a row, I figured she was really angry with me. My mom said that she was probably just jealous, but somehow, I didn’t think that was it. Monica had never really been jealous of anyone. If anything, she leaned toward being a bit too arrogant all the time. When we were younger, she’d teased me about not being as smart as she was. She hadn’t done that in years, but I had no reason to believe she was envious of me. She didn’t even like Steven. She thought he was a stupid jock who came from a family of Christian nuts.

On Monday, I was incredibly anxious. Steven had texted once over the weekend to ask what I was doing, but then he hadn’t replied, and I’d spent over twenty minutes wandering around the house and trying to get better reception. Plus, I still hadn’t heard from Monica. That was really unusual. We normally didn’t go more than twelve hours without speaking to each other.

‘She’s really angry with me,’ I realized sadly as I walked into living room and sat at my usual chair by the window. ‘I hope she gets over this.’ I sat there, drafting an apology in my head…although I wasn’t sure that I actually wanted to apologize, considering I hadn’t done anything wrong.

When the bell rang, Monica still wasn’t in her seat.

She didn’t show up to any of her classes that day. By the time school was over, I was a nervous wreck. I practically ran home and texted her, asking if she was okay. I kept trying to tell myself that she was probably just sick. Maybe that’s why she had acted so weird over the weekend.

By the end of the day on Tuesday, I still hadn’t seen her. She hadn’t texted, called, or showed up to school. I even waited outside the building after class was over to see if she’d make an appearance.

Steven and Andrea were walking out together just as I was trying to figure out what to do.

“Hey, Elizabeth,” Steven said. He gave me a half-grin and tossed his blond hair. “What’s up?”

I shrugged. “I think Monica’s sick or something,” I said. “She hasn’t been here in two days.”

“Oh, my gosh,” Andrea said. “That’s so awful. Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” I said in exasperation. “I’m thinking about going over to her house.”

“Want me to come?” Steven offered. Andrea glared at him.

“No,” I said, glancing at Andrea. “I think I should go alone.”

Andrea relaxed. “Well, nice to see you, Elizabeth.” She smiled. “Have a blessed day.” She skipped off, swinging her bag from side to side.

When Andrea was out of earshot, Steven stepped closer. He smiled again.

“You look great today,” he said. He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

I blushed. “Okay.”

Steven gave me one last smile before loping after Andrea. In the few seconds he’d been near me, my heart had started to thump and pound. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans, half-wishing I’d taken his invitation to accompany me over to Monica’s.

When I reached Monica’s house, I shivered. Brian and Jamie’s Subaru was back in the driveway, and I could hear the sounds of Thelonius Monk playing inside. I hesitated for a second, then reached out and rapped my fist on the door.

“Come in!”

Nervously, I pushed the door open. Monica’s mother, Jamie, was lying on the couch and holding a giant glass of red wine.

“Oh, Elizabeth,” she slurred, “I didn’t know you were coming over. Monica’s…not here.”

I frowned and stepped forward. Inside, the music was so loud that I had to strain to hear Jamie’s whispery voice.

“I know,” I said, feeling stupid. “She’s not in school, either. Is she okay? Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” Jamie replied. She took a long sip of wine. “I figured she went out to see David for a few days.”

I narrowed my eyes and perched myself in an overstuffed armchair next to the couch.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

Jamie shrugged. She sat up and brushed her ash-blonde hair out of her eyes. Jamie looked almost exactly like her daughter – petite, intelligent, and peevish. Both Jamie and Monica had the same sharp brown eyes and puckered mouth.

“I don’t know,” Jamie repeated. She set the glass of wine down on the coffee table – an old steamer trunk laying on its side. “I thought maybe she was with David.”

“You said that already.” I frowned. “I’m really worried about her. She hasn’t been answering my texts.”

Jamie shrugged again. “Well, I’m sure she’s fine,” she said. “She’s an adult now.”

“She’s fifteen,” I replied, trying to keep my voice as neutral as possible. Something about Jamie’s sloppy, drunken behavior was really alarming, but I didn’t want to piss her off.

“Well, she’s basically an adult,” Jamie said.

“She can’t even drive! How do you think she got to Vermont?”

“David probably came here and picked her up.” Jamie hiccupped, then reached for the wine glass. The glass was dirty and smudged with fingerprints. Based on the warm, yeasty smell of the living room, I had a feeling that Jamie had been drinking for most of the day.

“Is Brian here?”

Jamie shrugged. She lay back on the couch, closing her eyes and humming along with the frenetic, rhythmic jazz.

“Is Brian here?”

Jamie shrugged again. With a sigh, I walked into the kitchen and down the hall. The door to his study was closed. I knocked with trepidation.

“Yeah?”

I pushed open the door.

Brian was sitting at his desk, wearing spectacles. His dark hair was unkempt, and there was paperwork spread in front of him. Jimmy Buffett was playing, but at least he wasn’t drunk, too.

“Hi, Elizabeth,” Brian said. He frowned. “Can I help you?”

“Um, yeah,” I said. “I was just wondering where Monica was. I’m worried about her. She hasn’t been in school, and she’s not answering her texts.”

“She’s probably off with that boyfriend,” Bran said. He cleared his throat. “When did you last see her?”

“Saturday morning.”

“It’s only Tuesday,” Brian said in a calm manner that infuriated me. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“She’s never done this before,” I protested hotly. “She would always, always tell me where she was going!”

“Well, maybe she decided not to this time,” Brian said. He looked down at the papers in his lap and shuffled them. “It wouldn’t be that usual, would it?”

“It’s just not like her,” I said. “I mean, come on. Has she ever run away?”

“I don’t think so,” Brian said. “But there’s a first time for everything. She’s a young adult, Elizabeth. She’s smart and independent. I’m sure she’s fine.”

I gaped. “I…” I trailed off, biting my lip.

“What?”

“You’re her father,” I said desperately. “Aren’t you worried? It’s cold out there! She could be hurt, or lost. Or sick!”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Brian repeated. “Now if you don’t mind, I really need to get back to work.”

My heart slowed to a dull thud in my chest. Tears welled up in my eyes and I blinked them back, tilting my head to the ceiling so I wouldn’t cry in front of Monica’s father.

“I’m just scared,” I said softly. “I have a bad feeling about this. I really don’t think she’s okay. I think we should call the police.”

Brian narrowed his eyes and glared. For the first time, I saw a menacing look come over his craggy features. “I’m certainly not doing that,” he said. “Those ignorant pigs don’t give a shit about people like us.”

“But Monica! Something could really be wrong! I–”

“Elizabeth, enough!” Brian thundered. “Get out!”

I backed away nervously, bumping into the door and yelping in surprise. Brian glared at me until I walked out of his office. The door slammed shut behind me, and I shuddered.

In the living room, Jamie was passed out on the couch. I paused when I got to the front door. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t leave without checking Monica’s room and making sure she wasn’t actually home.

My heart was in my throat as I climbed the creaky stairs. Thankfully, the blasting jazz drowned out my footsteps, but I didn’t take a deep breath until I got to the landing. Upstairs felt quiet and oddly cold compared to the living room. I snuck along the hall. Monica’s door was at the end of the hall.

Being inside her room was painful. The bed was messily made, and it smelled like the pear-vanilla perfume Monica used to wear in junior high. I glanced around. Her cell phone charger was still plugged in beside the bed, but I saw that her purse was gone. Her backpack was still there, along with all of her books and her laptop.

My heart plunged when I saw the computer. It was then that I knew something horrible had happened. Monica would never leave the house without her computer; she took it everywhere. She’d even taken it to a baseball game on a field trip from school the year before.

I shivered. It felt wrong being in Monica’s room when she wasn’t there – almost like I was invading her privacy. Carefully, I peeked inside her closet. Her suitcase was still there, almost brand-new. She’d bought it right before Mensa camp. A tear dripped down my cheek as I closed the closet door and started down the hall.

My best friend was missing, and I had no idea what the fuck I was supposed to do.

Chapter Four

When I got home, my mom was standing in front of the stove with a huge kettle of marinara sauce. It smelled delicious, but I didn’t have an appetite. When she saw my red, swollen eyes, she cocked her head to the side and frowned.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Something really weird is going on.” I swallowed. There was a bitter, metallic taste in my throat that had been there ever since I’d seen Monica’s empty bedroom.

“What? Something at school?”

“It’s Monica,” I said. “She’s gone.”

“Oh, sweetie. Did her parents decide to take one of those long vacations again?” Mom rolled her eyes.

“No. Jamie and Brian are there. But Monica’s not.”

My mom frowned. She reached for a plastic spatula and stirred the sauce, leaning over the pot and closing her eyes as she inhaled.

“What do you mean, honey?”

I sighed and crossed my arms. “She’s just…gone. Like, she vanished or something.”

Mom glanced up with wide eyes. “Honey, did the two of you have a fight?”

I shook my head. “No!” Running my hands through my hair, I sat down heavily in a kitchen chair. “I don’t know. Her parents are acting like this is totally normal, like she does this all the time.”

“That doesn’t sound like Monica.”

“That’s what I said!”

“Well, honey, maybe there’s some kind of family drama going on.” Mom glanced around – presumably making sure Aidan was nowhere in earshot – and lowered her voice. “You know, honey, your dad and I have always thought that family was a little odd. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, Elizabeth.”

I sighed. “She wouldn’t just leave, Mom. She wouldn’t do that, not without talking to me first.”

“Do you think her parents called the police?”

“No,” I said flatly. “I don’t even think they care. When I kept asking Mr. Boer questions, he exploded and told me to leave.”

“I should call downtown,” Mom said. She picked the wireless phone off the hook. “When did you last hear from her?”

My stomach knotted and twisted into a tight bundle of nerves.

“Elizabeth?”

“On Saturday morning.” I looked down at my hands clutched tightly in my lap. “I texted her a couple of times when I got home, but she never replied. And then she wasn’t in school Monday or today.”

My mom’s frown deepened. “And her parents really don’t think anything is wrong?”

“No. It was so weird. It was like they forgot they had a daughter or something.”

Mom nodded. She consulted a list of local numbers by the phone and held the receiver up to her ear.

“Hello, this is Agnes Hartsell,” Mom said briskly. “Can you please send an officer to the house? It’s twenty-two Colonial Avenue.”

I shivered. Part of me was glad that my mother was doing this, but another part of me, a smaller part, was scared. I didn’t like confrontation, and I didn’t like cops. I had no idea what I’d do if they asked why I hadn’t come forward sooner.

When Mom hung up, she looked at me and narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t a game or anything, is it Elizabeth?”

“Oh, my god, no,” I said quickly. “No, Mom. It’s not anything like that. I swear.”

My mom nodded. “That poor girl,” she said softly. She looked at me. “You’re okay, right?”

“What?”

“I mean…” Mom trailed off. “You’re getting older, Elizabeth. Fifteen is around the age when kids start acting out. You’re not doing anything wrong, are you?”

I thought of Steven kissing me in Monica’s backyard and I blushed.

“No,” I said after a long pause. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”

I went upstairs and stared down at my math textbook until there was a sharp knock on the door. My heart lurched in my chest as my mom opened the door. I heard a flurry of muffled conversation, then Mom yelled for me to come down.

I swallowed a lump in my throat and went downstairs, trying to look as casual and nonchalant as possible. Mom was standing in the kitchen with two uniformed officers that included Mr. D’Amico, Steven and Andrea’s dad. When he saw me, he nodded.

“Hello, Elizabeth,” Mr. D’Amico said. “How are you feeling?”

I sat down in a chair and drummed my fingers nervously on the table. I shrugged.

“Elizabeth, we’ve met before. This is my colleague, Tony.” Mr. D’Amico gestured toward the other cop. “Can you tell us about Monica?”

“Like, what? She’s blonde with brown eyes,” I said. “But you knew that. You have a picture.”

“Does she have any identifying details?”

“Like tattoos?” It was hard not to laugh. “Monica would never get a tattoo.”

“What about birth marks?”

I shrugged. “I think she has a mole, like here,” I pointed to my shoulder. “But I can’t remember which side it’s on.”

Mr. D’Amico wrote something on the notepad. “Anything else? Does she wear glasses, contacts? Has she ever broken a bone?”

“No, I…” A thought wormed its way into my head and I shuddered.

“What, Elizabeth? What did you think of?”

“She only has four toes on her left foot,” I said slowly. “She got in some kind of accident when she was a little kid and had to have the pinky toe amputated.”

“That’s very helpful. Thank you,” Mr. D’Amico said.

I shuddered. I knew why it was useful: it was something they could use to identify her body.

“Tell me about the last time you saw her.”

I nodded, glancing nervously at my mother. “I spent Friday night with her.”

“I see.” Mr. D’Amico scribbled something on a pad. “Just the two of you?”

I shook my head. “Um, no. She had a party…well, not really a party. Just some kids came over for a few hours. They were all gone by nine-thirty.”

“I see. And were Mr. and Mrs. Boer home?”

I blushed before quickly shaking my head. “No. They were gone for the weekend.”

“Elizabeth,” Mom chastised. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“It’s okay, ma’am,” Mr. D’Amico said. “Just trying to get all the facts. Can you detail the events of the party?”

My heart thumped nervously in my chest. “Um, sure. I came home first because Monica said she was going to call David–”

“Who?” Mr. D’Amico squinted. “Who’s David?”

“Her boyfriend,” I explained. “He lives in Vermont. They met at camp over the summer.”

“I see. Can you tell me about him?”

“Well, he didn’t even come to the party–”

“Please, Elizabeth,” Mr. D’Amico said, interrupting me for the second time. “Just tell me everything you know about him.”

“His last name is Spring,” I said, biting my lip. “I’ve only met him once. He, uh, he came up for dinner with Monica and her parents, and she invited me over.”

“And what was he like? What was his relationship like with Monica?”

I shrugged. “He’s okay,” I said. I felt guilty. I didn’t like David, but I had a feeling that no matter what I said, Mr. D’Amico would start investigating. “He’s kind of arrogant. He’s older. He’s seventeen, and he didn’t come to the party because he was going to another party at some college closer to him.”

Mr. D’Amico nodded. “Have David and Monica quarreled often in the past?”

“Not that I know of,” I said suspiciously. “They haven’t really known each other long – maybe, like, four months.”

Mr. D’Amico frowned. He scribbled something on his pad and nodded. “Okay, Elizabeth. Tell me about the party.”

I cringed. ‘Shit,’ I thought. ‘I can’t tell him the truth! I can’t tell him that his son showed up with a case of beer and some liquor!’

“Elizabeth, what’s the matter?”

I shook my head quickly. “Nothing, nothing. Just, um, thinking.”

Mr. D’Amico sighed. “Elizabeth, this is serious,” he said gruffly.

“I know,” I said quickly. “I’m sorry.” I glanced at my mom. “It’s just hard.”

Mr. D’Amico nodded. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“I went to Monica’s around seven,” I said. “She hadn’t called David yet. She told me she’d fallen asleep. She called him, and she got a little upset when he said he couldn’t make it, but she didn’t seem too worried. She was a little freaked about all of the stuff going on around Jaffrey, though.”

“Like what?”

“Like…the guy who lives next door to Monica, all of his cows were slaughtered one night. Monica thought it had something to do with those weird break-ins all over town.”

Mr. D’Amico chuckled. “Paranoid little thing, isn’t she?” He glanced at his partner, Tony. “Tony thinks the break-ins are drug related. Probably just people looking for money.”

“That’s what I said to Monica,” I said. “But she was still freaked out. She said she didn’t want to be alone.”

“Who all came to the party?”

“Um, Steven,” I said. “You know, your son. And some of his friends from school. Mostly football players, I think. Juniors and seniors. Not really anyone I’m friends with.” I held my breath, almost certain that Mr. D’Amico would ask me about alcohol.

“Right. So, what did you kids do?”

“Steven and I talked in the backyard for a few minutes.” Behind Mr. D’Amico, my mom’s eyes bulged, and I cringed internally. “And then Monica came out and asked us to come back inside.”

“That was it?”

“No,” I said quickly. “There was some really loud sound from the woods – almost like a scream. And then a helicopter flew over Monica’s house.”

Mr. D’Amico nodded. “Was there alcohol at this party?”

After a second, I nodded.

“Who supplied that?”

“Um,” I bit my lip. “One of Steven’s friends, I think. They all showed up together.”

Mr. D’Amico frowned. He wrote something on his pad. “And what happened the rest of the night?”

“Not much. Someone started playing music, and Monica made everyone leave. She said she was sick of having people over. This was…I don’t know, around nine or nine-thirty.”

“Did you stay?”

I nodded. “We stayed up in the living room and watched movies,” I said. “I think Monica was upset about David.”

“And what happened the next morning?”

“We went for a walk in the woods.” I bit my lip, wondering whether or not I should say something about the trees.

“And?”

I sighed. “And we weren’t gone very long. Monica found some trees that had been cut down, with scratches all over the trunks. We found a knife by the tree line. It was big,” I added, gesturing with my hands to show the length of the blade. “Monica kept it. She told me that she had to write a paper, so I went home.”

“And have you heard from her since?”

I pulled out my phone. “No.” I handed it over to Mr. D’Amico. “I texted her a few times; you can see here. But she never replied. And she hasn’t been in school.”

Mr. D’Amico nodded. “I haven’t heard from her parents.”

“I went over there today, and they both think she’s fine,” I said softly. “They think she might have gone to visit David or something.”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know!” My voice came out as a loud whine, but suddenly, I no longer cared. This whole thing – treating Monica’s disappearance like it wasn’t a big deal – seemed incredibly stupid to me. I wanted to grab Mr. D’Amico by the shoulders and shake him. I wanted to tell him to wake up, that something horrible was going on.

“Calm down,” Mom said. She looked at me nervously. “Elizabeth, maybe you should go upstairs.”

“Just a few more minutes,” Mr. D’Amico said. “Is that alright?”

My mom nodded hesitantly.

“Elizabeth, do you have any idea of where Monica could be?”

I shook my head. Tears filled my eyes and I looked up at the ceiling, willing them away.

“No,” I said softly. “I don’t. I don’t think she would run away.” I bit my lip. “When I went to her house, her mom, Jamie, was drunk. I snuck upstairs and looked in Monica’s room. She left almost everything. She didn’t even take her cell phone charger!”

Mr. D’Amico and Tony exchanged a dark look.

“Okay, Elizabeth. Thanks. You’ve been really helpful,” Mr. D’Amico said. He stood up and grunted, rubbing his hands on his shiny, red face. “Thanks again.”

I nodded slowly. “You’re welcome.” I blinked, and a single tear rolled down my cheek. “I’m just…I’m really scared. I don’t know why her parents aren’t taking this seriously.”

“God damn hippies,” Mr. D’Amico muttered under his breath. He shoved his notepad back in his pocket. “Come on,” he said to Tony, jerking his head to the door. “We gotta take this downtown.”

They both said goodbye to my mother, and then left. The front door banged closed behind them, and I looked at my mom.

“Elizabeth, honey, it’s going to be okay.” But I could tell from the creases and lines of worry on Mom’s forehead that she was just lying to make me feel better. I walked over to her and hugged her tightly – something I hadn’t done in years.

Mom squeezed me back until I could barely breathe. When we pulled away, her dark eyes were narrowed with concern.

“I’m worried about you,” Mom said. “Is there anything I can do?”

I sniffled and shook my head. “No,” I said softly. “I just wish she was okay.”

“I know,” Mom said. The unspoken hesitation in her voice was as easy to read as giant block print: ‘I’m just glad it’s not you.’

Chapter Five

Mom told me to go upstairs and finish my homework, but I couldn’t concentrate. All I felt like doing was staring down at the textbook until the shapes and numbers turned into squiggly lines and dots, marching across the page with absurd speed. Finally, I slammed my textbook shut and crawled into bed.

It wasn’t late – maybe six or seven – but I felt exhausted, like I’d run three marathons back to back with little break in between. When I closed my eyes, I didn’t expect to fall asleep. But after a few moments, my brain started feeling sleepy and hazy, and I yawned, curling against my pillow and pulling the blanket over my head.

“Elizabeth, help!”

“Monica?” I stood up, brushing my hands off on my thighs. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know!” Monica’s voice was high-pitched and scared. “Help me, please!”

I was standing in the middle of a clearing in the woods. For a moment, I was almost sure it was the clearing with the felled trees behind Monica’s house. But then I realized it was in no way the same wood. This wood was ancient. The trees were as big as giants, and the branches were strung with moss, fairy lights, and small wooden sculptures dangling from twine. Despite the tiny, twinkling lights, I couldn’t see more than five feet in front of my own face.

“Monica!” I screamed. “Where are you?”

“Help me!”

Monica’s voice was earnest and scared. She sounded like a little girl, and a cold shiver of fear wormed down my spine as I glanced around the clearing. I couldn’t see any sign of human life, aside from the wooden sculptures. Nervously, I wrapped my arms around my torso and began walking out of the clearing and into the thick of the woods.

I didn’t stop yelling Monica’s name as I walked. When she didn’t reply, I broke out into a run. My feet were bare, but the ground underneath me was as soft as a thick carpet. I stumbled over a log and almost fell, but miraculously, I felt my body lift through the air, and I landed on my feet.

“Monica!” I screamed. “Where are you?”

There was no answer. As I ran, the woods grew darker and darker. The lights twinkled and fizzled out, and I realized that the trees were getting thicker and closer together. I shuddered and forced myself to run faster than ever. A small cabin came into my sight, and I ran closer, circling around and looking for an entrance. It was made of logs, with mud daubed between them to create a seal. There were no windows, and it seemed to sway in the breeze as if it were a moment away from collapsing.

In frustration, I circled the cabin over and over. I pressed my hands to the walls and screamed Monica’s name, desperate to know that she was safe. Finally, my thumb found a protruding lip. I pulled, and a small door swung open.

The inside of the cabin was dark. I got on my hands and knees and crawled inside, glancing around and coughing in the musty air. It seemed abandoned, like it had been there for hundreds of years. But as I crawled all the way inside, the door slammed shut behind me. Panic and fear welled up in my chest, and I screamed. I already felt suffocated; the stuffy air of the cabin was musty and old.

“Help me!” I shrieked. “Somebody, help! I’m stuck!”

There was no reply. A strange, high-pitched whirring sound began to play all around me, and I shivered. Tears of fright pricked my eyes, and I couldn’t stop myself from beginning to sob as the tears rolled down my face and dripped from my cheeks. As I screamed for help, a sudden gust of hot air blew over me. I screamed as I saw red and orange flames begin to dance in a corner of the room. They lit up the entire inside of the cabin, and I gasped when I realized there was a huge stone hearth. Brass runes were set into the stones, and they flashed in the firelight.

“Hello?” My legs were nervous pillars of jelly as I walked toward the fireplace, sniffling and wiping my eyes. “Monica? Is that you?”

The flames flickered and grew higher. I gasped as I tilted my head up to the ceiling and realized the cabin had suddenly tripled in size. I was standing in the middle of a giant hall, with rushes on the dirt floor. The flames licked at my body, singing my hair and eyebrows until I smelled the acrid scent of burnt death. I screamed again and tried to scramble back, but I tripped over my feet and landed on my butt. My hands scraped the dirt floor under the ferny rushes, and I groaned, a low guttural sound.

The flames licked and leapt higher toward the sky. I was certain that at any moment, the small cabin would be engulfed in flames. I closed my eyes, rocking back and forth and praying for a quick death.

“Elizabeth!”

My eyes bolted open. Impossibly, I saw Monica’s slight figure standing in the middle of the fire. Her brown eyes were ablaze, and her blonde hair was tangled and matted. There were odd markings on her face, and her pale arms were bare.

“Help me, Elizabeth,” Monica cried. She closed her eyes, and I could see her face was etched with pain and sorrow.

“I don’t know how!” I wailed. “Help me!”

“I’m trapped, Elizabeth,” Monica said sadly. “I can’t escape. I’m stuck here!”

“I promise I’ll get you out,” I said. The rush of the flames grew louder. The fire began to spread from the fireplace, licking and creeping up the walls until logs and dried mud were raining from the ceiling. I cried out as a log painfully hit me on the head and bounced to the floor. Sobbing loudly, I curled up on the floor and wrapped my arms around my knees. I knew I was going to die; I just hoped that it came quickly and didn’t hurt.

“Elizabeth, help me,” Monica’s voice said. She sounded tiny and far away. “Help me, Elizabeth!”

“I can’t,” I sobbed into my arms. “I don’t know how!”

“Elizabeth!”

I jolted awake with a gasp. My heart was racing, and my skin was covered in a layer of damp perspiration. I glanced around quickly, looking for the giant fire and Monica and the old cabin.

It took me a minute to realize that I was in my bed, bundled up and covered with my favorite duvet. My mom was leaning over me, frowning.

“Honey, you were screaming in your sleep,” Mom said. She touched my forehead with the back of her hand. “And you’re burning up!”

The cabin, the fire – hell, even Monica – had seemed so real. I couldn’t believe that I was back at home, in my own bed, safe.

“I had a nightmare,” I said shakily. When I wiped my eyes, I realized my cheeks were damp. I’d been crying in my sleep.

Mom sat on the bed. “I’m worried about you,” she said. “Why don’t you come downstairs and have dinner with Aidan and me?”

I swallowed. “I’m not hungry.” Inside my chest, my heart was still pounding like a frantic drum. “I can’t eat right now, Mom. Really.”

“Just come downstairs,” Mom said. This time, her tone wasn’t as gentle. “I don’t want you up here alone, worrying about Monica. That’s not going to fix anything.”

I nodded. “I’ll be down in a minute,” I said. “Just give me a couple of seconds to change.”

Mom looked reluctant, but she nodded, backing out of my room and pulling the door almost closed. With a sigh, I got up from my bed and pulled on a sweater. I didn’t even bother glancing in the mirror before I went downstairs.

Mom and Aidan were sitting at the table, bowls of pasta in front of them. Their conversation halted to a complete stop as I sat down, and I gave Mom a suspicious look.

“What were you talking about?”

“Nothing.” Mom gave me a fake smile. “Can I get you some pasta, honey?”

I shook my head. “I’m fine,” I said. “Thanks.”

Mom got up anyway. She handed me a glass of water and a piece of garlic bread. “Your favorite,” she added. “Come on, Elizabeth. You have to eat.”

“Monica’s probably fine,” Aidan said. He made a revolting sniffling sound, then took a huge bite of pasta.

I wrinkled my nose. “Can I be excused?”

“Elizabeth, please,” Mom said. “We’re stronger as a family. Don’t forget that.”

So, I stayed for the rest of dinner. It was excruciating. My mind kept flashing back to that horrible nightmare I’d just had. Thinking about it was enough to make me shiver. The last thing I wanted to think about was Monica, trapped and alone. I knew I was probably just being dramatic, but I wondered if the reality was even worse. What if she’d been kidnapped? I shuddered, remembering a documentary I’d had to watch in school about girls who got sold into the sex trade. My teacher had said that sort of thing didn’t really happen around here, but I couldn’t be sure.

Not knowing was the worst.

After dinner, I bolted upstairs and grabbed my phone. Looking through the texts with Monica was painful, but I kept scrolling until I got to the message I wanted.

I was nervous as I dialed the number on my phone and held it up to my ear.

Someone answered immediately.

“Hello?”

I cleared my throat. “Hi, um, this is Elizabeth Hartsell, Monica’s friend.”

“Oh, my god, Elizabeth, where the fuck is Monica?” David sounded distressed and urgent. ‘What if he’s trying to sound like that on purpose?’ I wondered. ‘What if he’s trying to cover something up?’

“I was hoping you’d know.” I swallowed. Ever since she’d gone missing, I’d had a perpetual lump in my throat.

“No. I have no fucking idea.” David groaned. “She was supposed to call me Saturday night, but I never heard from her.”

My stomach plummeted to the floor. “I saw her for the last time on Saturday morning,” I whispered. “She hasn’t been in school.”

“What’s going on?”

“Nobody knows. I went to her house, and her parents were, like, freaky about it. They were so chill. It was like nothing bothered them.”

“Where do they think she is?”

“With you.” I shook my head. “She’s not, is she?”

“Jesus Christ, no,” David snapped. “I wouldn’t be fucking terrified if she were here.”

“I need to find her,” I said. “I’m so scared something really bad happened, David. I don’t know what to do.”

“You got school tomorrow?”

“Yeah. It’s Wednesday.” I rolled my eyes – this was exactly what I didn’t like about David. He was always so obtuse, to a point where it came across as deliberate ignorance on his part.

“Skip it,” David said. “I’ll drive down and pick you up. We can look for her together.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” I sighed. “My mom called the cops, and they came over and interviewed me, but they didn’t say anything about a missing person’s case.”

“Elizabeth, chill. We’re looking for my girlfriend, not tearing up some crime scene. You know the area better than I do. We should go together.”

A bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

“Okay,” I said. “Fine. Pick me up by the school at nine-twenty. That’s ten minutes after class starts. I’ll tell my mom I’m sick or something and that I need to stay home. My parents both work during the day.”

“I haven’t heard shit from her,” David said, more to himself than to me. “She always called, like, all the time.”

I sighed. “I just hope she’s okay. A lot of weird stuff around town was freaking her out, but I totally dismissed it. I didn’t understand that she was really scared.”

David didn’t say anything. I wondered if Monica had told him the same stuff.

“I have to go,” David said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He hung up before I could reply. As I stared down at the phone in my hand, I murmured a silent prayer for my friend.

Chapter Six

Monica

I opened my eyes and groaned. Every muscle, every nerve – everything in my body was aching so badly that I felt like I’d fallen down a ravine. It was dark, and my eyes weren’t adjusting.

It took me a minute to realize I was in the woods behind my house. Frowning, I rubbed my eyes and sat up. ‘What the hell?’ I wondered, looking around. ‘Did I fall asleep out here? Where’s Elizabeth?’

There was something sticking into my thigh. With a grunt, I rolled over on the grass and wrapped my fingers around the blade of the knife. It was the same knife I’d found with Elizabeth earlier. And I’d recognized it almost instantly.

It was an athame.

A witch’s knife.

I’d seen pictures of athames and other ritualistic items in the books of witchcraft that I’d been collecting over the years. This one was no different; if anything, it looked like an antique. The handle was etched with runes, and the blade was notched thrice, as if to signify how the athame had been used.

When I touched the handle, I yelped and jerked my hand back. The hard surface was burning hot, and my fingers showed black scorch marks. Something deep inside was compelling me to take the knife. I knew that, for some reason, I couldn’t leave it behind.

Gritting my teeth, I pulled my light jacket off and wrapped the fabric around the handle of the athame. This time, it didn’t burn when I touched it. I got to my feet nervously and looked around. I was further in the woods than I’d ever been; they were oddly dense and thick, not like I’d remembered. When Elizabeth and I were kids, we used to play back here, pretending to be soldiers or elves. The woods had seemed so dark and scary then.

Not like now. Now they seemed familiar and cozy, despite the velvet blackness overhead. I shivered as I started to walk. My limbs ached so badly that it was an effort to place one foot in front of the other. And when I looked up, I couldn’t see the sky through the branches and leaves.

I wished I could stop being so cold. My stomach felt like an empty tube of toothpaste – wrinkled and empty. I had heartburn blazing up and down my esophagus like a trail of fire, and my head was thumping. My sinuses were filled with liquid concrete, and my hands were cold, shaky, and clammy.

I had to admit that I was filled with fear and anxiety as I pushed through the trees, looking for the familiar clearing that signaled I was close to home. To my dismay, the trees grew thicker and denser with each step I took.

I gasped and stopped dead in my tracks when I heard a rustling and crackling behind me. Spinning around, I clutched the athame to my chest. ‘Right,’ I thought sarcastically. ‘Like I could defend myself with this stupid knife. I can’t even hold the damn thing without burning myself.’ In my haste, the jacket slipped from my grasp, and my fingers curled around the bare handle of the knife.

This time, it didn’t burn. If anything, it felt cold and smooth. I gasped again and held the knife closer to my face. The blade was glowing in the dark of the woods, and I swallowed.

The rustling and crackling sounds grew louder. I turned on my heel and broke into a run, sprinting blindly into the forest. Fear pumped through my veins like liquid fire, and my heart beat frantically in my chest as I pushed my way through trees and branches and fallen limbs. Leaves and twigs whipped at my face as I ran faster and faster. After only a few moments, my legs were aching and my chest was heaving painfully, but I knew I couldn’t stop; whatever was chasing me would kill me.

No matter how fast I ran, the sounds behind me kept growing louder and louder. My palms began to sweat, but the athame was still clutched firmly in my right hand, almost as if glued to my skin. I tried to summon confidence, but nothing could stop the powerful waves of fear that kept washing over me. Stumbling over a tree limb, I skidded to a stop and darted to the side, sprinting in another direction.

The woods kept going forever. As I ran, my hope of finding home began to slowly fade. There was something different, something sinister about these woods. The air was thick and palpable with magic and haunting, and I shuddered as I kept running into the void of black.

The crackling and snapping sounds grew louder until the sound of my own breathing was drowned out. I sucked in gusts of air and forced my legs to keep pumping past the point of exhaustion until I thought I’d have a heart attack and die right there.

When a hand clamped down on my shoulder, I screamed. I stopped in my tracks, whirled around, and gasped at the man standing behind me. He was old. He was also tall – over six feet – with long, white hair, wizened skin, and the brightest blue eyes I’d ever seen. They glowed in the dark, just like the blade of the athame I clutched tightly in my fist.

“Leave me alone!” I screamed. “I’ll kill you!” I brandished the knife in front of me, waving the ancient blade in the air.

The man threw his head back and laughed. “You’ll do no such thing,” he growled in a low baritone. “You think of hurting a man with his own knife!”

I gasped in shock and tried to throw the athame behind me in the woods, but no matter how I tried, I couldn’t uncurl my fingers from the handle. My fist was locked, and I cried out in pain as I tried to pry my fingers off the smooth, cool surface.

“Enough,” the man growled. He grabbed my arm and yanked me closer. I tried to resist, but he was so strong; I knew I wouldn’t be able to fend him off. I tried waving my arm and moving the knife through the air, but suddenly my body was completely still.

“Good,” the man said. He closed his eyes and whispered a brief incantation under his breath. There was a large tree behind him, and the trunk began to glow with golden light. As I watched, a golden portal appeared on the bark of the tree. The man whispered something, tossed his head, then grabbed me and pulled me into the trunk of the massive oak.

The next thing I knew, I was falling. The weight was gone from my limbs, and I felt myself floating down, down, down through endless time and space. The man was gone – everything was gone. I was in a black void, drifting endlessly. There was no ground, no ceiling, no walls – nothing.

It was like being in space.

As I floated through the dark air, the panic began to seep from my veins. I could feel it being replaced with something warm and fuzzy, and it reminded me of being on hydrocodone after having my wisdom teeth taken out. I closed my eyes and sighed. The aching in my chest was starting to fade, and the burning in my legs from running so fast had already subsided.

‘This isn’t bad,’ I thought dreamily. ‘Maybe this is just a nightmare. Maybe I’m about to wake up.’ A huge yawn tore its way through my body, and I curled up, wrapping my arms around my knees and holding them to my chest. ‘Yeah, I must be asleep…that’s okay, I can sleep more,’ I decided. ‘Nothing is going to hurt me. I imagined everything. Elizabeth always says I’m too paranoid…yeah…that’s it…’

I fell asleep, soothed by the rocking motion of the infinite black space.

--

A drumming, rhythmic sound was piping around my brain like a giant subwoofer. My head ached. When I tried to rub my temples, I realized I couldn’t move my hands.

My eyes shot open. I gave a start in surprise. I was sitting on the floor in the middle of a giant circle of people. Men and women dressed in black robes were swaying around me with their arms held high in the air. They were ignoring me, chanting in unison. The sound of chanting and murmured song thrummed through the air, a giant engine of human vocal energy.

When I tried to move my lips to speak, I found that every motion, every movement was a struggle. Tears filled my eyes as the chanting grew louder and louder. A spicy, herbal smell filled my nose, and I looked around as columns of grey and blue smoke filled the room.

Suddenly, the chanting stopped. The old man who’d grabbed me stepped into the middle of the circle, holding his arms up high. The other men and women bowed their heads and closed their eyes. Somehow, the silence was even eerier than the chanting had been. The man trained his eyes on me and stepped closer. I tried to wriggle away as the other men and women parted in waves, murmuring in low, sinister tones.

The old man knelt down and picked me up with surprising ease. He hauled me into a standing position, then dipped his head in a slight bow. Chills ran down my spine as I realized I was now the focal point of everyone in the room. ‘What am I doing here? What do these people want with me?’ The thought kept racing through my mind, and I was powerless to stop it.

Some feeling was returning to my fingers and toes, and I could feel that I was coming off something powerful; it was like waking up from strong anesthesia. Still, I couldn’t do more than wriggle in the man’s grip. He held a bundle of fabric high in the air before whispering an unintelligible word and pushing the fabric over my head.

“I command you to be still,” the old man growled. Instantly, I froze. He yanked the fabric over my head, moving my limbs with a practiced ease that made me realize he’d performed this ritual before. The old man yanked the fabric out to its full length. I realized it was a bright red robe, made of some kind of rough, homespun material.

The men and women cried out in unison, a loud, guttural groan. The old man stepped back, bowed again, and then turned his attention to the crowd. When he spoke, it was an ancient-sounding and whispery language I’d never heard before. Whatever he was saying excited the men and women, and I saw their eyes blaze with fervent excitement. They rushed toward me. One of the men grabbed me by both arms and held me firmly in place, turning me around to face the crowd.

A hush came over the room once again. An old woman with long, white hair and skin as brown and wrinkled as a walnut stepped into the room. She was walking so smoothly that she almost seemed to be gliding over the floors. Unlike the other men and women, she was clad in all white, giving her the appearance of glowing in the dark. She held her hands in front of her, and her eyelids were half-closed.

The woman nodded at the old man. She moved toward me, moaning softly under her breath. Soon, she was so close that she could have kissed me. I was powerless to move as the woman raised her arm in the air and made a broad, sweeping gesture over my face. She closed her eyes and rolled her head around dramatically.

The man holding me made no sign of releasing me. The woman with the long, white hair lifted a brush to my face and started making small motions over my skin. It tickled, and I had the sudden urge to laugh. The room was silent and tense as the woman painted symbols on my skin.

“Henrik,” the woman hissed, “she is here. We can begin.”

The old man nodded. He seemed both excited and pleased. He made a sweeping gesture, and the crowd of men and women erupted into ecstatic applause.

‘What’s going to happen to me?’ I wondered in a dazed panic. ‘What are they going to do?’

The woman stared deeply into my eyes. “You will sleep now,” she said. “Sleep, vessel. Sleep.”

My mind, my thoughts – everything swirling around in my brain – began to slowly slip away, and I felt myself passing out.

Chapter Seven

When I woke up, my mouth was dry and woolly. My head was aching, and my heart was racing, like I’d come out of a nightmare.

There was a woman watching me. She was one of the women from the ritual I’d witnessed, clad in all black. I couldn’t guess her age; the dim lighting of the room and the austere robes she wore made her appear anywhere from fourteen to forty. When she saw that I was awake, she nodded and handed me a heavy silver plate. There was a slab of grilled meat, oozing blood, and a hunk of dark bread. The roasted scent of meat made me realize that I was truly hungry, but I hesitated.

“Is this safe?” I pointed to the meat and bread.

The woman narrowed her eyes but didn’t speak. After a few seconds, she gave a brief jerk of her head.

“Are you sure?”

The woman shoved the plate into my lap.

“Fine,” I muttered. My stomach rumbled. I picked up the hunk of bread and took a slow bite. It tasted alright – sweeter than I’d expected, but it was hard to chew. The woman hadn’t handed me a fork, so I lowered my head and picked up the piece of meat with one hand. It smelled different – it obviously wasn’t beef or lamb – but it tasted good. I chewed slowly in an attempt to savor my meal, but when I looked down at the plate, I saw it was empty.

“Is there any more?”

The woman didn’t say anything. She kept her eye on me as she sat down and leaned against the wall. We were in a dark room with no windows and a dim, ethereal light that seemed to glow from the ceiling. It was cold and damp, though – almost like a cellar.

The sound of voices floated into the room, and seconds later, a door opened. The old man who had grabbed me in the forest walked in. He snapped his fingers, and the woman who fed me got up and scrambled away.

“Don’t touch me,” I hissed. I stood up, and the silver plate went clattering to the floor. The sound made me wince – everything in the small room seemed amplified.

The man snorted. “I won’t hurt you, child,” he said. “That is not why you were brought to the Coven.”

Hearing the word ‘coven’ made everything click. Obviously, I’d been taken by a warlock. But I shivered at the knowledge that something truly supernatural was happening to me. I pinched my arm, hoping to wake.

“This isn’t a dream,” the man said. “You are a witch. You are now a member of the Coven.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not,” I said. “You kidnapped me.”

The man laughed. “It was your time,” he said. “Come. Are you telling me that you hadn’t taken notice of everything around you?”

My heart sank. “You mean the cows,” I said. “And the break-ins. That was you.”

The man smiled menacingly, baring white teeth. “It was not me,” he said disdainfully. “But rather someone who did my bidding.” He licked his lips.

“I don’t want to be here,” I said unsteadily. My voice trembled. “I want to go home. I need to go home.”

“This is your home.” The man stepped closer. “I am Henrik. I am the High Priest.”

“I don’t really care who you are,” I said tartly. “I want to go home!”

Henrik threw his head back and laughed. “You’re a silly little girl,” he said dismissively. “You are in an enviable position, my dear. Most enviable.”

“Yeah,” I snapped. “I bet every girl in Jaffrey wishes that some creepy asshole would kidnap her.”

Henrik shook his head. “Come here,” he said. “You will understand.”

I watched as Henrik took an athame out of his pocket – the very same knife I’d found in the woods – and drew three lines on the wall in the shape of a square with the floor as the base. He muttered a few words to the knife, then tapped it inside of the box. Instantly, hot flames sprung out of the wall. I gasped loudly as the wall shifted into a full fireplace in front of my very eyes, complete with black kettle and a roasting rack.

Henrik reached into the pocket of his robes and grabbed a handful of herbs. He threw them at the fireplace and clapped his hands. A cloud of green-colored smoke unfurled around me, and I started coughing and coughing until I felt like I would expel my lungs.

“Watch,” Henrik said in a low voice. He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me close to the roaring fire until my face was burning hot.

I squinted and stared, but I didn’t see anything.

“You will see,” Henrik said. His voice floated around me, wrapping me tightly in a cloud of dark promise. As I stared into the blaze, an image began to take shape in front of me. Two girls were sitting on the floor, playing with an Ouija board. I gasped in horror as I recognized a flicking silhouette of myself seated beside Andrea D’Amico.

“Monica, nothing’s happening,” Andrea whined. Her pale, heart-shaped face puckered with regret and dissatisfaction. “I’m leaving. This is so dumb!”

“Wait!” Monica grabbed her wrist. “No, don’t go. I promise, sometimes it just takes some time.”

Andrea looked at her suspiciously. “I don’t believe you,” she said slowly. “My mom says this stuff is bad,” she said quietly. “Like, we’re worshipping the devil.”

“There is no devil,” Monica said. “Don’t be so dramatic. Do you want to talk to your aunt or not?”

Andrea swallowed. Her eyes were wide with fear, but she nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said. “Just one more time and then I give up, Monica. This is freaky!”

“It’s not freaky,” Monica said smugly. She put the tips of her finger on the planchette and moved the triangular object over the smooth surface of the Ouija board. “You just have to relax, Andrea.”

Andrea didn’t move. She glared down at the board, then looked at her hands. They were clasped tightly in her lap.

“I don’t know about this,” Andrea said slowly. “I…what if something happens?”

“Nothing can happen,” Monica said. She reached forward and grabbed Andrea’s wrists. “Give me your hands.”

Andrea squirmed, resisting. After a few seconds, she relaxed and allowed Monica to place her fingertips on the planchette. Monica closed her eyes and began moving her hands around the board in slow circles.

“Oh, spirits, we’ve come to talk with you,” Monica said in a hushed tone. “We’ve come to hear your teachings. Please guide us, help us understand the world you inhabit that is beyond the earthly veil.”

Andrea yanked one of her hands away. “No,” she said hotly. “I can’t do this, Monica! We’re talking to demons!”

“We’re not going to be talking to anyone unless you can shut up,” Monica hissed. “Stop being such a little brat!” She grabbed Andrea’s hand and placed it firmly on the planchette. “Relax and close your eyes. Your aunt will be here soon.”

Andrea licked her plump lips and obediently closed her eyes. Monica resumed swirling the planchette in slow, rhythmic circles across the board.

“Oh spirits, please guide me,” Monica whispered. “Please, help Andrea as she searches for her late aunt.”

“Aunt Sadie, I miss you,” Andrea said tearfully. “I miss you so much. I don’t have anyone to talk to now that you’re gone.”

“Sadie, come speak with your niece,” Monica said in a haunting voice. “She is desperate and thirsty for your guidance.”

The planchette slowed to a crawl. The hair on the back of Monica’s neck prickled and stood up as the planchette began to circle the letter ‘H.’ As the two girls watched, the plastic triangle moved over the letters ‘E,’ followed by two ‘L’s and one ‘O.’

“She’s here,” Monica said excitedly. “Now, you can ask her anything you want!”

“I’m scared,” Andrea whispered. “It feels like someone is watching us, Monica.”

“Don’t be silly,” Monica said. “She’ll go if you can’t think of anything to say. You’d better speak up.”

“Aunt Sadie, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you were sick,” Andrea said. “And I’m sorry for what I said.” She glanced up at Monica. “You know what I’m talking about, right?”

The planchette shot over to ‘yes.’

Andrea nodded quickly. “I’m so glad you’re here. I miss you so much,” she said.

“Sadie, give Andrea a sign,” Monica murmured. “Show her that you’re here. Show her that you care.”

“What are you doing?” Andrea hissed. “Aunt Sadie, you don’t have to listen!”

“Sadie, show Andrea and me that you’re in the room with us,” Monica said softly. Her brown eyes glowed as they fixed upon the board and planchette. “Make us believe your magic.”

A sudden, loud thumping sound in the room made both girls jump. Andrea bit her lip and fearfully looked all around, her eyes as wide as saucers. Monica kept her hands lightly touching the planchette. Her eyes were closed.

“Sadie, show Andrea your love,” Monica hissed toward the board. “Show her that you know what it means to be persecuted for what you believe.”

Andrea glared at Monica. “What the heck are you talking about?”

The thumping sound grew louder. Monica smiled serenely. “She’s in the closet,” Monica said quietly. She jerked her head toward a door with a bolt. “Why don’t you go see her, Andrea?”

Andrea stared at Monica. Her face was pale, and she shook her head.

“I’m scared, Monica,” Andrea whispered.

“Tell us that you’re here, Sadie,” Monica hissed.

An unearthly wail floated through the room. It sounded like it was coming from inside the locked closet. As Monica and Andrea stared at the door, it began to thump and groan against the metal deadbolt. Wood splinters flew across the room as the door jerked against its restraints.

Andrea shrieked. She yanked her hands away from the planchette and covered her mouth. “Make it stop!” Andrea screamed. “Make it stop!”

The door burst open, and a gust of cold wind blew across the room. Andrea screamed as the wind whipped her hair and stung her face. She shrieked and shrieked, crying hysterically and rocking back and forth.

“Andrea, calm down,” Monica said. She smiled unpleasantly, and Andrea gasped at the sight of her friend’s face. Where Monica’s face had been youthful and free of wrinkles, now she looked like a wizened old crone. Monica threw her head back and began to laugh as the wind intensified. It whipped all around the two girls, scattering dust and the planchette. The Ouija board flapped and closed and skidded along the dusty floor.

A high-pitched, eerie voice filled the room. “Andrea…Andrea…I’m coming for you, Andrea. I’m coming to make you pay for your sins.”

Andrea screamed. She got to her feet and ran down the attic stairs, her feet thumping loudly on the steps. Monica sat there, watching her go. Her smile slowly faded, and her features returned to normal.

“You have seen,” Henrik drawled. He pulled me away from the fire. My heart was racing, and my skin was clammy and cold.

“I didn’t do that,” I protested. “That wasn’t me! You’re messing with my memory!”

“I’m doing no such thing,” Henrik said softly. He shook his head. “You just don’t remember.”

“I think I’d remember that!” My eyes filled with tears, and I shook my head. I was suddenly exhausted again, even though it felt like I’d been sleeping for days.

“You remember differently, a modified memory,” Henrik said quietly. He waved his hand over the fireplace, and the flames vanished. I gasped as the wall returned to normal. Within just a few seconds, it was impossible to tell that a fire had been in the place at all.

“That didn’t happen,” I said. As I tried to comb through my brain and recall the true memory, I was frustrated to realize that my mind felt veiled and obscured. I felt like I could put my finger on exactly what had happened, but when I went to reach for the words, they weren’t there.

“Then what did happen?” Henrik crossed his arms over his chest and laughed. For a moment, he looked almost youthful. “Tell me, Monica. Tell me what really happened.”

I closed my eyes. ‘Think, Monica, think! Remember what happened that day!’

“I can’t!” I wailed.

Henrik’s eyes blazed with fire. He put his hands on my shoulders and leaned in close, pressing his forehead to mine.

“Recall on your own,” Henrik said in a low growl. “You are stronger than this. You have power, Monica – very strong power, albeit untrained.”

Tears of frustration welled in my eyes and dripped down my cheeks. “I can’t!”

“Think harder!” Henrik thundered. “Try harder!”

“Andrea’s aunt died,” I said. “She…she said that she missed her. My friend, Elizabeth, told Andrea that I could help. I think she was just kidding, but Andrea really believed her.”

“And then what happened?”

“I…I don’t know,” I said. “All I remember is Andrea ran out of my house and ratted me out to her stupid parents. They called Jamie and Brian and told them I’d screwed with their daughter.”

Henrik’s lips curled into a smile. “So, you don’t remember, do you?”

“I know it wasn’t that!” I said hotly. “I never would have done anything to frighten Andrea!”

Henrik laughed. The sound sent chills down my spine, and I glanced down at my hands twisting nervously in my lap.

“You don’t respect Andrea,” Henrik said. He kept smiling uneasily. “That much is clear. You wanted to frighten her. Admit it: you wanted her to be afraid of you.” He nodded his head up and down. “Yes, Monica. You wanted Andrea to know that you’re powerful. You wanted her to know that you have something special, something sacred.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re a witch, Monica,” Henrik said. “You’re a descendent of the most powerful witch in all of New England – a witch who escaped death more than once.”

My heart thudded against my ribs.

Henrik leaned in close and grabbed my shoulder. His breath tickled my ear, and a cold chill ran down my spine.

“You have a history of getting your way, don’t you?” Henrik breathed. “You can’t handle the idea of being similar to everyone else; you have to be different.”

“That’s not true!” I swallowed. “I don’t care about that!”

“It’s obvious that you do,” Henrik said. His placid, serene smile was giving me the creeps, and I wished more than anything that I was home alone.

“You don’t believe me,” Henrik added. “But you will.” He leaned closer still until his lips were mere inches away from my ear. “Temperare inferiorem te esse.”

“What?” I pulled away and narrowed my eyes. “What does that even mean?”

Henrik’s eyes flashed. He whispered the same phrase, over and over, until the words sounded like gibberish. Instinctively, I knew to close my eyes.

A horrifying vision played out on the inside of my eyelids. A huge mob hurled angry epithets. Women dressed in long robes were tied to flaming stakes. Three of them were screaming and wailing with pain as the flames licked and shot up their bodies. The fourth woman was smiling serenely. As the fire reached her chest, she opened her mouth and began to cackle and laugh. There was a loud, angry cheer from the mob, and the woman smiled before opening her mouth and screaming.

The scent of singed flesh and hair filled my nostrils, and I coughed and gagged, trying to clear the smoke away. The crowd was roaring now, demanding blood and revenge. The three screaming women had silenced, and the flames were now licking around their disfigured, melted faces. But the fourth woman was still wailing and shrieking. The ropes binding her to the stake broke and melted, and she fell onto the burning kindling below.

“Temperare inferiorem te esse!” the woman screamed. “Temperare inferiorem te esse!”

My eyes flashed open. I felt dazed and exhausted as I stared into Henrik’s eyes.

“Control those weaker than yourself,” I said softly. “That’s what you just said.”

Henrik nodded wisely. “And now, you understand.”

Chapter Eight

Elizabeth

The next morning, I told Mom and Aidan that I was sick.

“She’s not!” Aidan said. He frowned and pointed his finger at me, suddenly looking much younger than his thirteen years. “She’s faking!”

Mom sighed. “Honey, Elizabeth is going through a lot right now, and we have to be supportive,” she said. I could tell she didn’t believe me, though.

“I’m just so tired,” I said. I faked a yawn, covering my open mouth with both hands. “I didn’t sleep at all last night.”

“Yeah,” Aidan said. His eyes flashed mischievously. “You were up all night, talking to Steven!”

“Aidan!” Mom and I hissed at the time same.

Mom turned to me. “Who’s Steven?”

“Andrea’s brother,” I said wearily. “And no, brat. For your information, I was up all night worrying about my best friend.”

Mom reached out and put her hand to my forehead. “Okay,” she said softly. “You can stay home, Elizabeth. I know things are difficult for you right now.” She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Just promise you’ll go to school tomorrow.”

I nodded, crossing my fingers behind my back. I didn’t know what I’d do if David and I didn’t find Monica. I had no idea where we were even going to start looking.

“Okay, honey,” Mom said. She pulled me close and kissed my forehead. “I’m going to drop Aidan off on the way into work. I should be home at the normal time tonight. Your father’s working late – again,” she added under her breath, “but I hope we can all have dinner together.”

I nodded and tried to look as sick as I could while I waited for Mom and Aidan to leave. They took a surprisingly long time, and I went upstairs to lie in bed until the front door slammed shut.

As soon as Mom was gone, I raced out the door and started jogging along the main road until I reached the grounds of our school. A beat-up, blue Oldsmobile was parked, rumbling like mufflers had never been invented. I almost groaned when I saw David behind the wheel. His black hair had grown even longer, and his dark sunglasses obscured the whole upper half of his face. When he saw me, he leaned on the horn.

I cringed. “I saw you,” I said through gritted teeth as I climbed into the passenger seat of his decrepit car. “You didn’t have to honk.”

David smirked. “You look a bit distracted,” he said.

“No shit,” I muttered. “My best friend is missing. She could be dead.”

David shook his head. “Don’t say that.” He shoved the car into gear, and we pulled away from the school grounds with a jerk. I heard the ringing of the school bell as David drove off.

“So,” David said, “show me around. Where’s Monica?”

I buckled myself into the seat and looked out the window. “I don’t know,” I said hotly. “That’s why we’re looking.”

“I don’t know my way around here,” David snapped. He cut sharply to the left, and my head slammed against the window. “Tell me where she hangs out.”

I was already regretting my decision of calling David and having him come visit and help me look.

“There’s a lake outside of town. Monica and I used to go there a lot,” I said. ‘Before she met you,’ I amended silently in my head.

“Cool.” David shifted the car into a higher gear and pressed down on the gas. We shot down the main road of town, through the center and stores until I couldn’t see anything but grass and trees. The air had turned colder in the few days since Monica had vanished; I hated to admit it, but that didn’t exactly feel like a good omen.

The air between David and me was frosty, too. I shivered and wrapped my arms tightly around my body. David steered the car off the main road, and I directed him down the short dirt path to the lake.

When we climbed out of the car, I shivered again. Jaffrey Lake was beautiful, but in the fall, it looked deserted, like the setting of a horror movie. ‘Stop it. You’re being morbid,’ I told myself. But now that I’d started thinking horrible thoughts, they just kept coming.

“We should walk around, see if she’s hiding around here,” David said. He jerked his head to the side before loping off at a fast pace. I sighed and then broke into a trot to keep up.

“Slow down,” I called.

“We gotta search the whole town before the end of the day,” David said. “I gotta get back to Vermont tonight.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. “And what if we don’t find her? What then?”

David shrugged. “I dunno.”

I glared. “Some help you are,” I muttered. “I feel like everyone around here has gone crazy.”

David frowned. “Why?”

“Like her parents don’t even care that she’s gone,” I said hotly. “My mom called the police, but she thinks Monica was, like, I dunno…kidnapped or something. And she’s always trying to tell me that things are gonna be fine.”

David shrugged again. He turned on his heel and kept walking at a brisk pace. “They might be fine,” he said. “You don’t exactly know that for sure.”

“David, come on.” I stopped dead in my tracks and crossed my arms over my chest. “That’s fucked up.”

David sighed. “I know,” he mumbled. He balled his hands into fists and shoved them in his pockets. Although his sunglasses were still obscuring his vision, I could tell by the deep commas in his cheeks that he was depressed.

“We have to stay strong,” I said. “But we can’t just think everything is going to turn out fine because that’s easier.”

“I just…I can’t believe it,” David said. “Monica hates spontaneity. She hates going away from home. She made me drive her back from Vermont one time at three in the morning because my bed was too narrow.”

I laughed out loud. The story was so like Monica that my heart hurt. “I know,” I said softly. “She’s very particular.”

David and I resumed walking. I kept looking in the woods, watching for a flash of her blonde hair, but the only things I saw were trees and dead limbs on the ground.

“So,” I said quietly. “How was the party?”

“What?” David pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and squinted at me.

“The party on Friday,” I said. I rolled my eyes. “You know, the reason why you didn’t feel like coming here.”

David flushed. “Nothing,” he mumbled. “It was fine.”

I frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” David glared at me. “Forget it.”

I scowled.

“I didn’t cheat on her, if that’s what you’re thinking,” David said. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“I didn’t think that,” I said quickly. “You just got so defensive!”

David sighed moodily. He raked a hand through his black hair. In the fall sunshine, his skin was so pale that it looked almost translucent.

We hiked around the lake three times. The second time, I thought I saw something floating in the water. But when I got closer to look, I realized it was just a piece of trash.

“She’s not here,” I said softly.

“Did you really think she would be?”

“No,” I said, too quietly for David to hear. “But I wanted her to be.”

David and I spent the rest of the day driving around Jaffrey. Around the time school let out, I had him drive me to my house so I could leave a note for my mom. I told her that I was feeling better, and that I’d gone out with Andrea. I knew she wouldn’t bother calling Mrs. D’Amico. Like the rest of Jaffrey, my mom thought Andrea and Steven’s parents were totally crazy.

By the time the sun was sinking low in the sky, I was starting to lose hope. David and I had been almost everywhere that Monica had loved. Between her favorite rock and magic store, to the diner where we’d gone almost every day after school the previous year, I was feeling hopeless and lost.

I sniffled as I climbed back in the passenger seat.

“Can you think of anywhere else?”

I shook my head. “No,” I said softly, “I can’t.”

David nodded. “I should be getting back to Vermont,” he said quietly. “I told my parents I’d be home later.”

I nodded.

“You okay?”

I nodded again, but I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in my eyes. As much as I was worried about Monica, I couldn’t help feeling lonely. There was a giant hole in my chest where my best friend had once been, and I knew that it wouldn’t ever go away.

“What happens if we don’t find her?” I said listlessly, staring out the car window. Rain had begun to fall, and I watched the drops lash the window until my eyes burned.

“She’ll turn up.”

“You don’t know that.” Shifting in the seat, I turned to face David. “You don’t know anything. She could never come home. She could be gone. Forever.”

David sighed. “Look, Elizabeth, what do you want me to say? That I’m feeling fucking fantastic about my girlfriend missing? That I feel just great?”

“No…” I bit my lip. “I don’t know.” Tears came to my eyes, and I hunched over my lap, dreading the sobs. But when I started crying, it was like a dam broke. Emotion swirled loose in my brain, and for a moment, I cried so hard that all I could focus on was how much my sinuses hurt.

David reached over and awkwardly patted my back. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “Try not to worry so much, Elizabeth.”

“I miss her so much,” I sobbed. “I just wish she’d come home.”

“Me, too.” David’s voice was thick with emotion. When I looked at him, I saw that he was sobbing, too. I hesitated a second before unfastening my seat belt and wrapping my arms around his neck. David leaned into me, and I closed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder until his black shirt was soaked through with tears.

It felt strange to be sharing such an intimate moment with someone I hadn’t exactly had warm feelings for. I cried on David’s shoulder until my throat was raw and aching, until I felt like I had no more tears left in my body. He sobbed wildly against me, shaking and shivering until the skin of his face was burning hot. All I could think about was Monica. I wondered if she was cold, or scared, or hurt. I wondered if some sicko had picked her up in a van, if somehow, she’d been mistaken for a little girl. I knew that Monica had always thought of herself as a real tough girl, but in reality, she was fragile. Jamie and Brian – nontraditional though they were – had kept her shielded from the rest of the world. A villain to Monica was a Republican or a capitalist.

After what felt like hours, David pulled away. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, leaving a trail of iridescent, sticky slime.

“Sorry,” David mumbled. “I don’t know why that happened.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

The intimacy between us was deflating rapidly as David started the car and drove me home.

As I got ready to go inside, I unbuckled my seat belt and turned toward him.

“Thanks for coming down,” I said softly. “Even if we didn’t do all that much.”

David nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Look, I can come back on the weekend. My parents won’t care. I could stay with Jamie and Brian.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

There was an awkward tension – a pause that made me shiver. Finally, not knowing what else to do, I lifted my fingers in a childish wave and climbed out of the car. David didn’t even stay to watch me go inside; he peeled out of the driveway, spraying gravel everywhere.

My mom was standing at the stove. “I was worried about you,” she chastised. “I don’t want you out alone. Not with all this going on.”

“I wasn’t alone. I was with…Andrea. Remember?”

Mom nodded. “Look, honey, I know you think you should be doing more. But there really isn’t anything to be done. The police are on Monica’s case, and they’re looking for her as hard as they can.”

I bit my lip. Mom was looking at me, staring at my bloodshot eyes.

“I just feel like no one even cares,” I said, flopping down in exasperation. “There hasn’t been a search party. Her parents probably haven’t even called the cops themselves!”

Mom sighed. “I know, sweetie.” She cleared her throat. “Sometimes we just have to let people do what they want. It’s not your responsibility to make the Boers be better parents.”

I clenched my jaw. “I’m going upstairs,” I muttered. “I’ll be down later.”

Once I was safely behind the locked door of my room, I grabbed my phone from the charger and called Steven. Normally, I would have been anxious at the thought of calling the D’Amicos. But right now, I was too worried about Monica.

“Hey, Elizabeth?”

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I skipped school today. To look for her, with David.”

“And?”

I sighed.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“No,” I said softly. “Why?”

“I’m picking you up in twenty,” Steven said. “We’re going to the diner.”

When Steven and I hung up, I changed into a pair of black jeans and a sweater. Racing downstairs, I checked my hair in the hallway mirror before walking into the kitchen.

“You’re looking better,” Mom said. She cocked her head to the side. “Everything okay?”

I nodded, trying not to blush. “Yes,” I said. “Um, Steven wants to take me out to dinner. Is that okay?”

Mom raised her eyebrows. “Is this a date, Elizabeth?”

“I don’t think so.” I twisted my hands together behind my back. “I mean, I don’t know. I think he just wants to talk about Monica.”

Mom nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said. “Just be home before ten, okay?”

I nodded. Just as I was grabbing a jacket from the hall closet, I heard the rumbling of an engine outside.

“Steven’s here,” I called. “Gotta go! See you later, Mom.”

Before she could reply, I darted outside and ran over to Steven’s car. He gave me a lopsided grin when he saw me, and my stomach lurched to the side in a mix of excitement and anxiety.

“You didn’t have to run out,” Steven said. “I was about to knock on the door.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s fine,” I said. “Let’s go.”

Steven drove in silence. When we got to the diner, another pang of sadness hit me.

“It feels so weird to be here without Monica,” I said as Steven held the door for me. “We used to come every day freshman year.”

Steven nodded. “Yeah, I saw you.”

I raised my eyebrow, and Steven blushed.

“I mean, I wasn’t spying or anything,” he said quickly. “Andrea told me, I guess.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it was when they were still friends.”

There was an awkward silence as we picked up the grease-spattered menus and began to browse. Although the diner was never particularly busy, it always had the same dingy look – floors streaked with dirt, tables covered with crumbs. It hadn’t ever bothered me, but now that I was here with Steven, everything looked even worse than it had before. ‘Is this a date?’ I wondered as I flipped through the menu. ‘And if it is, why didn’t we go someplace else?’

After we ordered, Steven looked into my eyes. “So, how was today?”

I shrugged. “We didn’t find anything,” I said listlessly. “And being with David was weird.” Instantly, I felt guilty for saying that.

Steven chuckled. “Yeah. He’s an odd dude.”

“I just wish we would have…I dunno. Seen something. Anything,” I stressed. “Like, anything to give me another idea where to look.”

Steven shrugged. “Probably better left to the cops.”

I frowned. “I guess.”

“We had this shitty assembly today,” Steven said. He snickered. “They brought in these bodybuilder guys who ripped phone books apart with their hands. Then they told us it was because they’d dedicated their lives to Jesus. Andrea flipped. It was fucking nuts.”

“Monica would have hated that,” I said. “Hey, I never thought of this before, but maybe I should call some of her other family. She has that cousin, right? The one that lives in Massachusetts?”

“It was such a weird day.” Steven raked a hand through his blond hair.

“I thought you brought me here to talk about Monica?”

Steven sighed. “I dunno, Elizabeth. I thought you needed a break that was why I suggested it.”

“So, you don’t really care,” I said hotly. I knew I was going down a dangerous path, but I couldn’t help it. Suddenly, I was incredibly angry that no one else was taking this seriously.

“Of course, I care!” Steven looked offended. “I care a lot, you know? These adults – they’re not doing shit!”

I sighed. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just frustrated.”

“I get that,” Steven said. “Everything will be okay. Just try to chill out, okay?”

Steven launched into a story about something that had happened in AP English, and as much as I wanted to listen, my resentment was growing. I couldn’t believe that he didn’t even care about Monica. ‘My best friend is dead, and no one cares but me,’ I thought angrily. ‘Am I going crazy? Did I imagine this whole thing?’

After we ate – a tuna melt for me, and a club sandwich for Steven – Steven paid the bill, and we climbed into his car.

“Hey, I’m going over to John’s,” Steven said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I need to stop by the house and grab something. I borrowed a movie from him last week,” Steven said. “You don’t mind, do you? I’ll take you home right after.”

I frowned. “Sure,” I said. “No problem.” I turned my face to the window so he wouldn’t catch my disappointment. I’d been hoping that he would ask me to come.

Steven pulled into his driveway. “Hey, come in for a minute,” he said. “You’ll get cold if you stay in the car.”

I nodded before following him inside. The foyer of the D’Amicos house was a rush of activity. Andrea was scurrying around with a hairbrush in one hand and her jacket clutched in the other. Mr. and Mrs. D’Amico were arguing loudly. Steven darted upstairs, throwing me an apologetic glance over his shoulder as he did so.

“Hi, Elizabeth,” Andrea said primly. She smiled. “How are you feeling today? I noticed you weren’t at school.” She held out her bag, and I saw that it was a bible case with handles and a gold-stitched crucifix on one side.

“Um, yeah,” I said. “I was sick.”

Andrea leapt away like I’d just told her that I had the plague. “Don’t come too close,” she said. “I have such a low immune system.”

I nodded. “Right.” Now that Monica was gone, being around Andrea was harder than ever. She looked one second away from bursting into tears. I wondered if she was feeling guilty.

“So, you and Steven were out with friends?”

I shook my head. “Uh, no. We just went to the diner, that’s all.”

“Alone?” Andrea raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “He told me he wanted to cheer me up. You know…because of Monica.”

Andrea frowned. A deep crease appeared in the pale skin of her forehead. “I don’t think Mom wants Steven to have a girlfriend right now. She’s worried he won’t get into a good school.”

“I’m not Steven’s girlfriend,” I said, shaking my head.

Andrea stared at me. “I’m going to church,” she said. “You want to come? My youth group always wants new people. We welcome everyone.”

Something about the way Andrea was staring at me was giving me goosebumps.

“I have homework,” I lied. “Maybe next time.”

Andrea nodded firmly. “It would be good of you to come,” she said. “I noticed you and your family stopped coming to church years ago.”

“My mom is just so busy now,” I said. “We don’t really have time.”

“Everyone should make time for God.”

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, praying for Steven to come rescue me. Just as Andrea launched into the virtues of regular church attendance, Steven’s footsteps thundered down the steps. He jumped the last three, landing in the foyer with a loud, boyish thud.

“Hey, I’m ready,” Steven said. He jerked his head toward the door. “You wanna go?”

“Steven, can you give me a ride to church?” Andrea batted her eyelashes at her brother. “Mom’s going to be late again.”

“Uh, sure. Come on.”

I tried not to show my disappointment. Andrea skipped outside ahead of me and darted into the passenger seat of Steven’s car. He and I followed.

“Sorry,” Steven muttered. “Mom would shit if I said no. That’s the whole reason they bought me a car.”

I nodded. “No worries. It’s fine.”

Andrea chattered incessantly about her church group the whole way into town. Steven and I nodded, but I noticed he wasn’t saying much. It was interesting to see how much he’d changed. Until last year, Steven had been almost as religious as his younger sister. But he seemed different now, almost like he’d changed completely.

“Elizabeth’s house is before the church,” Andrea said crossly. “Why aren’t you dropping her off first?”

“Sorry,” Steven said absentmindedly. He pulled into the gravel lot of Jaffrey United Methodist. “I must’ve forgotten.”

Andrea gave me a sour look. She smiled at Steven. Just as she was about to climb out of the car, she ducked her head back in and kissed Steven, full on the lips.

Chapter Nine

Monica

With a groan, I opened my eyes. I expected to see Henrik or his coven dancing around me and moaning. Instead, I was shocked to discover that I was in my parents’ backyard, covered in dirt.

The athame was sitting in my lap. The blade gleamed, reflecting my own face in the shiny surface.

I shivered. ‘Did I just have a bad dream,’ I wondered as I climbed to my feet and brushed my hands off on my thighs. ‘What the hell happened?’

The sky was tinged pink and orange with the setting of the sun, and the air was brisk and chilly. I shivered and wrapped my arms around my torso, hugging myself for warmth. After a few seconds, I grabbed the athame and held it at my side, clutching the handle with a white-knuckled grip.

Inside, Jamie and Brian were sitting at the dinner table, full glasses of wine in front of them.

Jamie looked up at me and smiled. “There you are,” she said. “I was actually starting to worry.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Hey.” I cleared my throat. “Could I have something to eat?”

“Your father made mushroom risotto; it’s in the kitchen.” Jamie yawned. “You must be tired.”

I nodded. “Exhausted.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Brian said. He barely glanced up from the papers. “Have fun with David?”

“I wasn’t with David.” I held the knife behind my back and made my way across the room, keeping it out of sight.

“Oh.” Brian turned a page, narrowing his eyes at a headline. “Where did you go?”

I shrugged. “I was around.”

“I knew you’d be fine,” Jamie said absentmindedly. She yawned, rubbing at her eyes with both fists. “You missed a week of school, though. Should probably phone your teachers and ask for assignments.”

My eyes widened. “I was gone for a week?”

Jamie nodded. She and Brian exchanged a knowing glance. “And just how much acid did you decide to drop?” Jamie giggled. “It’s okay, honey. You don’t have to tell me. Just be safe, okay? Try not to have a bad trip. They’re a real pain in the ass.”

“Um, yeah,” I said. “I’m going to take a shower, okay?”

Jamie and Brian nodded in unison. I bolted upstairs, clutching the athame to my chest.

My room looked almost exactly the same as it had when I’d left. My bed was mussed, and my closet was undisturbed. It felt so surreal – and yet, so amazing – to be home that I was starting to feel overwhelmed. Each passing second only created more questions in my brain. ‘Was I really gone for a week? What happened? Why can’t I remember more from the time I was gone? Was I actually gone, or was I just hallucinating in the woods?’

It was very strange. Whenever I closed my eyes, I could remember the exact feeling of Henrik grabbing my shoulder. I could remember the heat of the flames and even the herbal smell of the smoke that had surrounded the coven.

But I could barely remember what had actually happened.

I shuddered. ‘It was probably some kind of hallucinatory thing,’ I realized as I stripped down and pulled on my bathrobe. ‘Like, maybe some of that stuff at the party was spiked with LSD. I bet Steven’s asshole jock friends would do that as a joke.’

An idea struck me. I walked over to my desk and grabbed a pen and a notepad. In a trembling hand, I wrote Henrik’s name. But when I tried to remember what he looked like, the image faded from my mind. I clenched my jaw in frustration and tried to think. Was he old? Young? Foreign? With a name like Henrik, probably so – but I couldn’t remember him having any kind of an accent. I couldn’t remember what he’d worn. I couldn’t remember how his voice had sounded.

In fact, the only memory that was really sticking with me was the feeling, the sensation, of being trapped and captured. I shuddered. Once, I’d read a news clipping about a serial killer who abducted women and drugged them heavily so they wouldn’t remember undergoing torture. Most of the time, the drugs killed them. But in a few cases, they survived with no memories of what had happened.

Fear swelled in my chest. I decided to take a hot shower -- that had sometimes helped me calm down in the past, so it was at least worth a try.

I locked myself in the bathroom and sat down on the toilet as I waited for the water heater to warm up. Soon, clouds of white steam filled the bathroom. I inhaled as deeply as I could. It felt purifying, cleansing. ‘This was all a dream,’ I told myself firmly as I shed my robe and climbed into the shower. ‘I made everything up in my head.’

The hot water soaked my hair and body. I closed my eyes and held my head under the warm spray for as long as I could until my lungs were burning for air.

Whenever the water touched the inside of my right forearm, it burned. Glancing down, I saw that my arm was covered in crude tattoos. They were still bleeding. The skin was red and angry, and I gasped in horror when I recognized the symbols.

They were the exact same symbols that had been carved into the handle of the athame.

I muffled my screams with both hands, sobbing and crying blindly until I could no longer breathe in the steam-filled bathroom. My hands shook as I turned off the water and fumbled for my towel and then my robe.

It was dumb, but part of me thought I’d just made the symbols up in my head. When I was locked in the safety of my room, I studied my arm. They were definitely real. I could see where the edge of each tattoo was raw and beginning to scab over. But I didn’t remember getting them, and I had no idea what they meant. I stared down at the symbols for so long that they started to move and sway in the dim light of my desk lamp.

I took a deep breath. I knew that I couldn’t be alone with my thoughts anymore. I had to do something to distract myself. I pulled on clean clothes and then went downstairs.

“Hey, sweetie,” Brian said. “Feeling better?”

I nodded stiffly.

“I bet you’re tired,” Jamie said. She winked at Brian. “You know, when I met your father, I don’t think we slept for a week.”

I forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m tired,” I said.

“You better make sure that David uses protection,” Jamie said. “You are being smart about this, aren’t you, honey?”

I nodded again. “I’m going to heat up some of that risotto. You want anything?”

Jamie shook her head. “Brian’s going to make spaghetti for dinner, if you feel like waiting.”

“Okay.” My stomach rumbled. Suddenly, the faint, irony taste of rare meat came into my mouth, and I swallowed, realizing how hungry I really was.

Jamie was sitting in the living room, half-watching a design show on the portable TV that she and Brian had had since college. Living with aging hippies hadn’t ever really bothered me, but I did have to admit that I was jealous of the flat screen that Elizabeth had in her room.

‘Elizabeth! I need to call her!’ Instinctively, I reached into my pocket for my phone. My fingers just touched empty denim, and I realized that I hadn’t seen my phone in my room, either.

“Hey, have you seen my phone anywhere?”

Jamie glanced up from the television. “What?”

“My phone,” I repeated. “I think I left it around here somewhere. Have you seen it?”

Jamie chuckled. “Ah, young love,” she said. “If I had a dime for everything I misplaced when I first started seeing your father…”

I frowned, but didn’t want to argue. I couldn’t deny that I was hurt by my parents not caring more. What if something bad had happened? What if I’d been killed or kidnapped or something?

“Did you worry when I was gone?”

“What? No,” Jamie said. She frowned. “Why would I worry? Your father and I know you’re a smart, capable girl.”

“I’m fifteen,” I said flatly. “I’ve never run off before.”

Jamie shrugged. “Teenage hormones,” she said dismissively. “You’ve just got to get it out of your system. You know, Elizabeth’s mother, Agnes, called the police. They came over here, but we just didn’t think any kind of investigation was necessary.”

‘Ouch.’

“But something could have happened to me,” I said quietly. “Something really awful.”

“But it didn’t,” Jamie said. She shrugged. “And like I said, Monica, your father and I trust you. We know you wouldn’t do anything wrong.”

I sighed. “Okay.”

“What? You’re upset with me now because I’m not some helicopter mother?”

“No,” I lied. “I’m fine.”

“You’re awfully moody tonight.” Jamie yawned. “You getting your period? You pregnant?”

“No,” I said sharply. Jamie looked offended, and I bit my lip. “Just tired. That’s all.”

“Well, maybe go to bed early after dinner. You can take tomorrow off if you want. I’ll call in to the school and say you’re sick.”

“I should really go,” I said. I slid off the couch. “I’m going to get something to eat. I don’t think I can wait for dinner.”

“Your father’s spaghetti is something special,” Jamie called over my shoulder. “You should try some later, honey.”

I swallowed and didn’t reply. I couldn’t believe the way my mother was acting. Even though she’d never really been a traditional mother, it was crazy. ‘Almost as crazy as this stupid thing on my arm,’ I thought as I pulled open the fridge and grabbed the plastic container of risotto. ‘What the hell is going on?’

Brian had a fire roaring in the dining room. When my risotto was steaming hot, I dumped it into a bowl and went to sit by the fire. The house was freezing cold, but the flames warmed my limbs and burned the exposed skin on my face. I closed my eyes, relishing the hot warmth against the thin skin of my eyelids.

“Monica…Monica…”

My eyes flashed open. The flames of the fire were dancing and twisting higher, wildly moving out of control. I couldn’t look away as they shifted and swelled, almost like something live.

My heart thumped in my chest, and my mouth went dry as I saw the flames slowly take human form. A fiery figure appeared – a woman clothed in a bonnet and a long dress – and grew larger with each passing second. I gasped in fright as a fiery finger extended from the fireplace.

“Monica…”

The fire hissed and crackled, and I jumped at the clear sound of my name. The fiery woman came closer, and I cried out in shock as I recognized Andrea.

“Monica, you are condemned to death!” The woman threw her head back and cackled. Her flaming eyes sparkled with excitement and evil. She grinned maliciously at me, exposing a mouth of crooked, fiery teeth.

“Go away,” I whimpered, backing away from the fire. “This isn’t happening! This is a dream!”

“Monica, you will be put to death for practicing witchcraft and bringing evil to the village of Jaffrey. I condemn you.”

“No!” I cried loudly. “No! Stop! This isn’t happening!” I closed my eyes and covered my ears with both hands, desperate to block out Andrea’s fiery apparition. Her voice carried through the room as loud as the gusts of wind outside. I trembled in fright as she spoke the same phrase, again and again, until I thought I would lose my mind.

The door flew open, and the flames of the fire died down, sinking back down into the fireplace until it was just a normal fire again, crackling and hissing.

Brian and Jamie stood in the doorway, looking horrified.

“You were screaming,” Brian said. “Is everything okay?” He looked at me with the most concern I’d ever seen on his face.

I nodded. “I’m fine,” I lied. “I’m totally fine.”

Chapter Ten

Elizabeth

The rest of the week passed in a blur. I hated to admit it, but things were almost starting to go back to normal around home. The cops had done nothing to search for Monica – the word around town was that her parents had urged them to leave their daughter alone – and slowly, the kids at school were finding other things to talk about.

The only people who seemed to think of Monica at all were David and myself. Even Steven had stopped asking me how I was feeling. It bothered me. What bothered me more was that if it had been anyone else, I really would have let loose on them. But being around Steven was different. Whenever we were together, I could barely think of anyone but him.

It made me feel like the world’s shittiest best friend.

On Sunday, I was still in bed when Mom came to the door and told me that Steven was on the phone. I could tell by her expression that she was dying to know more, but I managed to push her out of the room before she could ask. Steven asked if I wanted to come over and watch a movie. His parents were at church with Andrea, and he finally had the house to himself.

Before I left, I put on a touch of mascara and did my eyebrows with the new pencil I’d gotten over the summer.

Mom raised her eyebrow at me when I went downstairs.

“You’re going to have to bring this Steven around,” she said. “I want to know who my daughter is spending so much time with.”

I blushed. “Mom, you’ve met him before, remember? We used to go to their church.”

Mom frowned. “That was years ago,” she said. “We haven’t been for a long time. You know that, Elizabeth.”

“Well, he’s still the same person,” I said lightly.

“He always seemed so devout, especially for a young person,” Mom said slowly. “Has he changed? He’s not pressuring you, is he?”

I shook my head so quickly my brain spun. “No,” I said. “Nothing like that.”

“If you want to keep seeing him, I need to meet him,” Mom said. “You can’t put this off forever, honey.”

I frowned. “Okay.”

Mom laughed. “Come on, it’s not like I’m a dragon lady or anything. You know that.”

I nodded. “I’m just nervous.” I blushed and looked down. “I’ve never had a boyfriend before.”

“Good.” Mom rolled her eyes. “When I was growing up, your grandmother wouldn’t let me go out with anyone until they introduced themselves first.”

I shuddered. “Yikes.”

“I didn’t have any boyfriends until college for a reason,” Mom said lightly. “But then I met your father, and you know…the rest is history.” She smiled. “Steven sounds nice, Elizabeth. I’m not trying to pressure you. I just want to make sure you’re not getting into anything you shouldn’t be.”

Her unsaid implication was, ‘I just want to make sure you’re not getting into anything like Monica.’

“Right,” I said quickly. “Well, Steven’s here. Gotta go. Bye, Mom.”

Mom gave me a distracted, one-armed hug, and I dashed out the door. Steven was leaning against the side of his car. He grinned when he saw me.

“So, you ever seen Tree of Life?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t even heard of it,” I admitted.

Steven laughed. “Me neither,” he said. “My parents got it from Netflix, though. Thought it might be interesting.”

I smiled. “You’re in a good mood,” I said as he pulled out of the driveway.

Steven nodded. “Yeah. Mom finally stopped forcing me to go to church with the rest of them,” he said. “You would have thought she could have taken the hint back in junior high.”

“Mmm.”

“It’s just…I don’t really identify as a Christian.” Steven kept his eyes focused on the road, and I wondered if this was a personal subject for him.

“I don’t, either,” I said.

“It’s different for you,” Steven said. He turned the car around a bend in the road, and I grabbed the door so I wouldn’t go flying. “You didn’t grow up in a family like mine.”

“I guess.”

“No, it is.” Steven shook his head, laughing bitterly. “You should’ve seen my mom’s face when I told her I wanted to read science fiction. She acted like I’d said I wanted to start worshipping the devil. She wouldn’t even let Andrea read those stupid Harry Potter books.”

I snorted. “Those aren’t bad at all.”

Steven nodded. “That’s my point.” He pulled into the driveway of his parents’ house and wiped his palms on his jeans. “It was, like, a huge struggle with my mom. She finally said I was old enough to decide for myself, but she told me that she’d be praying for me anyway.”

I snorted.

“I know,” Steven said. He rolled his eyes. “Come on.”

It felt strange being in the D’Amico house without Andrea. Before the whole séance fiasco, Monica and I had come over a couple of times per week. Even though Mrs. D’Amico was annoyingly religious, she was a generous hostess. She’d always made us snacks and paid attention to us. Monica had always sort of mocked Andrea behind her back, but now that she was gone, I realized she must have appreciated the level of attention from Mrs. D’Amico. It wasn’t like Monica’s parents at all; there, you were lucky if they even acknowledged your presence.

“It’s so quiet in here.” I ran my hand along the polished wood of the bannister. “Your mom did a nice job with the house.”

Steven nodded. “Yeah. She’s kind of obsessed. She’s really into, like, those house-flipping shows.”

My stomach lurched. “Do your parents want to move?”

Steven snorted. “Hardly. My mom thinks big cities are like, dens of sin. She’s never going to want to leave a small town.” He eyed me smugly. “Why? Would you be upset if I left?”

I blushed hotly. “Maybe,” I lied.

Steven took my hand and pulled me close. I was surprised by how easily he could move me. He was definitely stronger than he looked. When he put his fingers under my chin and tilted my head up for a kiss, I thought my heart would explode.

“I like you,” Steven murmured. “You’re really cool, Elizabeth.”

I blushed. Steven pressed his lips to mine, gently at first. Then his teeth scraped my lower lip, and a shudder of something strange and hot flashed through my lower body. I moaned softly as Steven slipped his tongue in my mouth. It felt strange – almost invasive and alien – but after a few seconds, it seemed almost as normal as breathing.

Steven pulled away and grinned. “Come on,” he said. “The couch is more comfortable.”

I took a deep breath and tucked loose hair behind my ears as I followed him into his living room. There were two matching couches upholstered in striped silk, and I sat gingerly at the end of the one closest to the television. Steven put the movie in the DVD player, then sat down next to me. The couch bounced with his weight.

“I’m glad you could come over,” Steven said. He put an arm around me. After a second, I scooted closer.

“Do your parents know?”

Steven shook his head. “Nah. They won’t be back until the afternoon, though. Andrea’s got some kind of a performance thing after the service, and then they’re going out to lunch.” He rolled his eyes. “Mom tried to bribe me with food. No thanks.”

“Are you going to get in trouble?”

Steven shrugged. “I don’t really care if I do,” he said. “That doesn’t bother me.”

“Look at you, mister cool,” I said.

Steven snickered. Up close, he smelled like clean laundry and fresh aftershave. A shiver wriggled through my body. When he kissed me this time, I wasn’t as nervous. I tilted my head up and closed my eyes, trying to hold my head exactly still.

Steven tangled his fingers in my hair and gently pulled. Warmth cascaded through my limbs, and I felt myself melting in his arms. As Steven kissed me, he gently pushed me down on the couch until I was on my back. The kisses grew urgent, more intense, until I found myself clawing at Steven to pull him closer. He gently pulled away, then nuzzled my head up and started kissing and nibbling on my neck.

Sensations exploded in my lower belly, coiling tight with arousal. I moaned and arched my back, spreading my thighs. Steven crawled between my legs, and I felt something hard at his crotch poking my thigh. When I realized it was his erection, I blushed hotly. Steven licked his way back up my neck, then kissed me deeply and slid his tongue in my mouth.

I wrapped my arms around Steven’s neck, and he pressed his body closed to mine. After a few seconds, I realized that I was moving my hips in a sensual rhythm, pressing my body against Steven’s, hungry for more.

The only thing I could think about was how much I wanted to keep kissing him. My lips were chapped and raw, but I didn’t care; the tingling in my nipples and between my legs was too much, too exciting. When Steven put his hand up my shirt, I shivered at the touch of his cold fingers against my skin.

“Is this okay?” Steven murmured, turning my head to the side and nipping at my earlobe. It tickled in a sensual way, and I giggled, biting my lip nervously.

“Yeah,” I whispered softly. Steven kissed me again, pressing his lips hard against mine as his fingers moved under my top. When he rubbed my stiff nipple through the material of my bra, I cried out in pleasure. Everything in me wanted more – wanted him.

Steven reached behind me and fumbled at the clasp of my bra. There was a loud sound from the other room, and I tensed underneath of him. His fingers kept trying to undo the clasp.

“We should stop,” I said, sitting up and pushing my hair out of my face. My heart was racing, and I knew my face was bright red.

“It was probably just the cat,” Steven said. “Come here.” He reached for me again, but this time, I dodged out of the way.

“No,” I said. “I’m sorry. It doesn’t feel right doing this on your couch. Your parents could come back at any minute.”

Steven frowned, but he sat up and straightened his shirt. Immediately, my stomach twisted with regret, but the mood between us had vanished. An image of Andrea kissing Steven on the lips popped into my head, and I frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I bit my lip.

“You’re lying,” Steven said. “Come on, Elizabeth. You can tell me. Did I push you too far?”

I shook my head. “That’s not it,” I said slowly.

“Then what? Tell me.”

My heart started to thud again, but out of anxiety this time.

“It’s nothing.”

Steven rolled his eyes. “Come on, don’t be like that.” He stared at me. “I didn’t think you were like other girls, Elizabeth. I thought you were cool.”

I swallowed. “Why did Andrea kiss you the other day?”

Steven shrugged. “Uh, I don’t know. Probably because she’s my sister.”

“On the lips?”

Steven stared at me for so long that I started to feel like an idiot. “Yeah,” he said.

“What’s going on with her? Is she jealous?”

Steven rolled his eyes. “Jealousy isn’t a good look, Elizabeth.” He stood up from the couch and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m not talking about Andrea with you. I’ll be right back.”

Steven strode out of the room. A few seconds later, I heard the bathroom door slam shut. My heart twisted, and I closed my eyes, trying to process what had just happened.

When I heard my phone buzz, I looked down at the table. But it wasn’t my phone; it was Steven’s, lit up with a text.

I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help myself. The screen flashed and lit up with Andrea’s name. I bit my lip as I took Steven’s phone with trembling fingers and unlocked the screen.

There was a photo of Andrea, topless, with her back facing the camera. She was glancing over her shoulder and pouting. It was in some public bathroom – the glare on the mirror was almost more noticeable than her naked back.

My stomach dropped as I read the text.

“I can’t wait for tonight.”

For a moment, I thought I was going to throw up. I dropped Steven’s phone like it was burning hot, grabbed my bag, and ran out of the house.

I ran all the way home. Even when I was breathless with a painful stitch in my side, I didn’t slow down. I kept running and running until my legs ached and my chest burned. I didn’t stop running until I was on the porch of my parents’ house, where I bent over and rested my hands on my knees.

The nausea hadn’t gone away. I couldn’t stop thinking of that stupid sly smile on Andrea’s face, and that creepy picture. Why the fuck would she have sent something like that to Steven? Was she trying to make me jealous?

Or was I an idiot? Was something going on between Steven and Andrea? Was he just using me as an excuse?

The door swung open. When Mom saw me gasping and red in the face, she gaped.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said. I was panting so hard that talking was difficult. After sucking in a couple gasps of air, I turned to her. “Steven’s parents weren’t home, so I thought I should come back. I didn’t feel like having him give me a ride. It’s such a nice night, I thought I’d exercise for a while.”

Mom frowned. “It’s thirty-five degrees, Elizabeth.”

Pushing past her, I forced a fake grin. “Well, exercise is good for keeping warm.”

“I didn’t think you’d be home until later, so I just made leftovers for dinner. You want some, or do you want me to make something else?”

“No,” I said quickly. My stomach was still jumping and dancing around, and I knew that even smelling food would make me sick. “I’m fine. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed early.”

Mom looked at me suspicious, but nodded. “Okay,” she said slowly. “That’s fine, honey. Just come down later if you change your mind.”

I nodded. As soon as she was back in the kitchen, I bolted upstairs and grabbed my phone. I had two missed calls from Steven, and about fifteen texts. My stomach turned, and I threw my phone on my bed without even looking at his messages.

I felt like the world’s worst person. I’d almost completely forgotten about my missing best friend because of a guy. I’d been so stupid, so blind that I hadn’t even thought about anything untoward going on.

‘Monica, please,’ I thought desperately as I crawled into bed and pulled the covers up, ‘if you can hear me, please come back. I need you now more than ever.’

Chapter Eleven

I barely slept that night. In the morning, I was half awake as I pulled on a clean pair of pants and a sweater.

As I walked to school, I couldn’t stop thinking about Steven and Andrea. I still hadn’t checked my phone. In fact, I hadn’t even brought it with me. I wondered what Steven would do. Although he didn’t seem like the cruel type, I couldn’t help but feel nervous. Was he going to start a rumor that I was some kind of slut?

And how the hell was I supposed to act around Andrea now?

But the biggest shock of all came when I walked into homeroom. Monica was sitting in her usual seat, her attention turned to a piece of paper in her lap. Gasping, I ran over and grabbed her shoulder.

“Oh, my god!” I yelped. “Where the hell have you been?”

Monica slowly tilted her head and gazed at me. “I’m fine,” she said. She narrowed her brown eyes. Her blonde hair was messier than usual, styled in two small buns at the top of her head.

“Jesus!” I slid into my chair and scooted closer so the other kids wouldn’t hear me. “I missed you so much, I was so worried!”

Monica shrugged. “I’m fine.” She smiled sardonically. “You worry too much, Elizabeth.”

My heart was thudding in my chest, and I pinched my thigh to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. The pinch hurt, but still, this didn’t feel real.

“I missed you,” I repeated. Tears came to my eyes, and I blinked them away, not wanting to cry in public. “I was really scared that something horrible had happened.”

“I was probably sick, you know,” Monica said. “Like, in bed the whole time.”

I stared at her. “What do you mean, probably?”

“Like, I probably had the flu.” Monica tossed her head. “We probably shouldn’t have gone on that walk after the party.”

My jaw dropped. “I…I went to your house,” I said slowly. “On Tuesday afternoon, after school. You weren’t there. I know that’s not true, Monica. Where did you go?”

“I was with David.”

“Monica…” I trailed off. “You don’t have to lie to me. We’re best friends, remember? You can tell me the truth.”

“That is the truth,” Monica said stubbornly. “Did I miss a lot?”

I blinked. “I know you’re lying,” I said unsteadily. Monica’s brown eyes flashed with anger, but she didn’t speak. “I know because I spent a lot of time talking to David this week. He even drove out on Wednesday, and we went looking for you at the lake. We drove everywhere in town. Both of us were really, really worried.”

Monica still didn’t reply. She bit her lip, looking angry and defensive.

I reached out and took her hand. “Look, I know it was really weird, okay? Your parents were like, not really too into the idea of looking for you. I know that has to hurt. But you have to know that David and I did everything we could. We were both so, so scared that something was really wrong. I…” I trailed off. A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed. “I’m just so glad you’re back.”

“Of course, I’m back,” Monica sniffed. “I live here, don’t I?”

I sighed, deflated. “What’s wrong?” I asked quietly. “What happened, Monica? What’s on your mind?”

Monica didn’t reply. She sat up straighter. Despite her short stature, she suddenly cut an intimidating figure, like someone much older, or much more confident.

“David’s really worried, too,” I said gently. “He feels awful about not being able to come last weekend. Have you talked to him?”

Monica stayed silent.

“And did you see my texts?” I pressed. “And my calls? I probably left you, like, sixty voicemails. You can just delete them, it’s fine. I was probably babbling the whole time, anyway, like a real crazy person.”

Monica stared.

“Please,” I begged. “Please, just tell me you’re okay.” I frowned. “I’m really worried. I mean, I know you don’t have to tell me everything that happened – I’ll ask my mom to help find a good counselor for you – but you need to talk to someone, Monica!”

“I don’t need to do anything,” Monica said icily.

The bell rang, and I jumped in surprise. Monica snickered. “You’re so jumpy, Elizabeth,” she said. “Can’t you just relax?”

I stared at her. “I was so worried,” I said softly. The room around us had quieted with the ringing of the bell, but I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied until I got some real answers.

Monica didn’t reply. She turned to face the front of the classroom and put her hands in her lap, ignoring me. As the teacher called roll, I tried hissing her name to get her attention, but nothing worked. She completely ignored me for the whole fifteen-minute period before our first class.

The second bell rang, and kids leapt out of their seats, grabbing their bags and scattering around me like a messy, smelly river.

Monica stayed firmly in her seat, staring straight ahead at the blackboard. Soon, we were the only two left in the room.

“Um, hey, aren’t you going to class?”

Monica turned to me. Her brown eyes were icy cold.

“Elizabeth?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m done talking about last week,” Monica said.

“But–”

“I said I’m done,” Monica snapped. She grabbed her backpack and stalked out of the room, leaving me confused, unhappy, and filled with regret.

The rest of the day dragged by. The few classes we had together, Monica ignored me. She even moved seats to the other side of the room. At first, I was determined to figure out exactly what had happened. I wanted to know what was bothering her so much. But after a while, I figured I had to let it go. Monica was stubborn – this wasn’t exactly a new development – and she wasn’t happy until she got her way.

I decided that I’d back off, at least for a while until she was ready to talk about what had happened. I shivered as I thought about that cold look in her eye. I knew that whatever had gone on, she must feel terrible. Horrible scenarios paraded through my head all day, each worse than the last. Kidnapping, abduction, rape, torture…all of these seemed likely. I shuddered.

‘She must be so embarrassed and horrified,’ I kept thinking. ‘I have to find a way to make her understand that none of this was her fault. That’s what victims think, but Monica has to know how much she’s loved, even if her parents don’t care.’

The only odd thing was that Monica seemed stronger than ever before. She didn’t exactly seem like she’d been victimized – if anything, she seemed like she’d undergone some powerful transformation.

And then there was the whole matter of Steven and Andrea. I desperately wanted to tell Monica, but with her acting like this, I didn’t know if that would be a good idea. The old Monica never would have betrayed my secrets. But I thought that if she’d undergone something really and truly traumatic, she might be thinking a little differently.

When the last bell of the day rung, I slowly walked out to the parking lot. Normally, Monica and I always met to walk home together. I didn’t expect to see her there. In fact, I was almost shocked when I saw her leaning against the brick wall, staring up at the sky.

“Hey,” I said softly as I jogged up. “Thanks for waiting.”

Monica nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “You wanna walk home?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

The space between us felt tense as we started walking slowly out of the parking lot. Monica stayed silent. I felt an overwhelming pressure to speak, to apologize, to make sure she knew I was still her friend – to say anything. But no matter how I tried the words in my head, everything sounded overblown and ridiculous.

Finally, I stopped walking. “Look, Monica, I’m really sorry if I made you so uncomfortable,” I said slowly. “I didn’t mean to pry. I just missed you, and I’m glad you’re back.”

Monica gave me a small, secretive smile. “It’s okay,” she said. I waited for her to say more, selfishly hoping she’d break down and tell the truth. Instead, she started walking again, faster this time.

“How are Jamie and Brian?”

Monica shrugged. “They’re fine.”

“My parents are so busy right now,” I babbled. “I feel like I haven’t seen my dad in weeks. He barely comes home from the office. My mom is so freaking tired of taking care of Aidan by herself, she’s got, like, these perpetual dark circles.”

Monica nodded.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Steven and Andrea walking toward us. I groaned.

“What?” Monica frowned. “What’s going on?”

“Um,” I paused as a fine sheen of sweat broke out over my forehead. “I don’t know. I mean, I can’t talk right now. I have to tell you something.”

Monica narrowed her eyes. “You’re being weird, Elizabeth,” she said. “Just tell me. I don’t understand why you need to be so secretive!”

“It’s about Steven,” I hissed under my breath. “We should go. I really don’t feel like talking to them right now.”

Monica looked at me suspiciously. “Why?”

I groaned. “Just come on,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Let’s go. I’ll tell you later.”

“Hey, Monica!” Andrea called. She jogged over, grinning. “I’m so glad to see you! Oh, my god, we were all so worried!”

Monica gave her a dark look. “I’m fine,” she said.

“So, what happened?” Andrea smiled. “I’m just so glad you’re back!”

Monica stared at her. As I watched, Monica’s brown eyes began to glow golden. Then they turned into two liquid pools of black. Andrea gasped and pointed her finger at Monica’s chest, brushing the front of her shirt. Monica yowled, leaping into the air like a scalded cat.

Monica started hissing something in a foreign language under her breath. I was horrified as she advanced on Andrea, staring her down with her black eyes and growling in a guttural tone.

“Monica, chill,” I said softly. “It’s Andrea, remember? She’s our friend.”

Monica’s hand shot out and grabbed my wrist before I had a chance to pull away. She twisted her fingers tightly until hot pain shot up my arm. I cried out and tried to yank my wrist back, but Monica held firm. She twisted her fingers, and I groaned, dropping to my knees in sudden pain.

Monica threw her head to the sky and howled. She released me, then spun on her heels and sprinted away toward the woods.

Steven and Andrea stared at me, their mouths hanging open in shock.

“So,” I said weakly, rubbing my wrist. It still ached from Monica’s tight grip. “Monica’s back.”

Steven cleared his throat. “Elizabeth, what the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t know,” I said softly. “I have no fucking idea.”

--

As I walked home, I couldn’t get the freakish look in Monica’s eyes out of my head. It was hard to believe that her eyes had suddenly changed color. ‘I must have been imagining that,’ I thought dully. ‘It must have been a trick of the light, or maybe she’s getting sick.’

But no illness I could think of would have led to such a dramatic change in my friend’s appearance. And thinking about the way she’d twisted my wrist sent shivers down my spine. The fragile bones of my wrist were aching, and it was swollen. For a moment, I’d thought she was trying to rip my hand clean off my body.

Mom was sitting in the kitchen when I got home. “Hey, honey. Some guy named David has been calling for you.” She cleared her throat. “He’s been calling all day – something like fifty times.”

My jaw dropped. “What?”

Mom tapped her chin. “He said his last name was Spring,” she said. “Does that ring a bell? I don’t know any Springs in Jaffrey.” She chuckled. “I thought you were dating Steven. Did something happen between the two of you?”

“He’s Monica’s boyfriend,” I said quickly. “He lives in Vermont.”

“And why was he calling here?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I’ll call him back as soon as I get upstairs.”

Mom frowned. “Okay, honey,” she said.

I took the stairs two at a time, leaping until I was out of breath. As soon as I was in my room, I called David.

He answered on the first ring. “Where the fuck were you?”

“I was at school,” I said. “Jesus, what the fuck is the matter?”

“I need to talk to you,” David said. “I’m driving to Jaffrey now. I’ll be at your house in ten minutes or so. Come outside and get in my car.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“No,” David said, “not on the phone.”

“Monica’s back,” I said quickly. “Isn’t that great?”

David didn’t answer. “Ten minutes, Elizabeth,” he said firmly.

“I don’t know that I can,” I said. I bit my lip. Even though David and I had bonded (well, sort of) while Monica was still missing, I wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of spending more time with him. He still bothered me, and his intensity right now was freaking me out.

“You have to,” David said. “You don’t have a fucking choice.”

He hung up, and I stared down at the phone in my hand, unable to fathom what he needed to tell me so badly. After a few minutes, I went downstairs.

Mom was still sitting at the table. “How was school?”

“Monica’s back,” I said. “She was in homeroom this morning.” ‘And then she freaked out and almost broke my wrist and ran into the woods like a total nutcase,’ I added silently in my head.

“Oh, honey, that’s wonderful!” Mom sighed. “I bet her parents are so relieved.”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah,” I said. “I bet.”

“Did she tell you what happened?”

I bit my lip. “Not exactly.”

Mom sighed. “That poor girl,” she said slowly. “I can’t imagine how terrifying it must have been for her.”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said.

“Well, I’m sure she’ll take some time to adjust,” Mom said. “But in the meantime, until the police have it figured out, you’re not allowed to go out unless you’re with a parent, okay?”

“Mom,” I groaned. “Come on!” I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, but secretly I was glad. At least this way I’d have an excuse when Steven asked me out again.

If Steven asked me out again.

A horn blared from the front yard, and my mom jumped in surprise. “What the hell was that? Sorry,” She said quickly, covering her mouth.

“It’s David,” I said. “He said he needs to talk to me.”

Mom stared. “Can he come in the house?”

“Let me just go sit in his car for a few minutes, okay?”

Mom stared at me for a long time before nodding. The horn blared again, and she winced. “Just make him stop doing that,” she said. “It’s so rude!”

My heart was in my throat as I ran outside and climbed into the passenger seat of David’s car. I kept staring straight ahead at my parents’ front door as he started rambling about something.

“Elizabeth, you’re not even listening,” David growled.

“Monica’s back,” I said. Finally, I turned to him and stared. “What do you want me to say? She’s acting super weird,” I added. “She’s not talking about what happened, and she grew really angry with me earlier when I told her that I’d been worried.”

David pushed his messy black hair away from his forehead. He was even paler than usual, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

“Something weird happened,” David said. “Some kind of ancient evil.”

“What?” I narrowed my eyes. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

David sighed impatiently. “The ancient evil, in the woods – it abducted Monica, and used her as a vessel for power.”

I swallowed. My heart was thudding in alarm. There was something scary about the fervent, glittering look in David’s eyes.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said softly.

David spun around, twisting until he was groping at the floor of the backseat. When he emerged, he was holding a leather-bound book. The covers were moldy, and the pages were falling apart. When David cracked it open, a musty scent filled the air.

“It’s here somewhere,” David said. He fumbled through the pages until he stopped on an illustration. It had been painstakingly done, and I gasped at the intricate image. A woman with blonde hair was hovering over a fire, surrounded by a group of dancing people, all clad in long, black robes. There were symbols painted around them.
“What are those?” I pointed down. “Like astrological symbols? What kind of book is this?”

“They’re witches,” David said. He pointed to the blonde woman. “And that’s Monica.”

“Come on,” I said. I rolled my eyes. “David, you know witches don’t exist. That’s all fake. It’s meant to scare people into behaving. Or at least, it was, like a few hundred years ago.”

David stared at me. “No!” he growled. “That’s Monica. Look closer.”

I sighed. “This is crazy, I’m going–”

David grabbed my wrist. I yelped in pain. “Ouch!”

“Just look,” he said. “Elizabeth, you have to believe me.”

I took a deep breath. “Fine,” I said. David gingerly passed the book to me, and I looked down, studying the image. The blonde woman’s eyes were closed, and she wore a contented smile. She was drawn in remarkable detail, with the same symbols from the outside of the page tattooed on the inside of her forearm, a mole on her shoulder, and one toe missing from her left foot. A chill crawled down my spine. The longer I stared, the weirder I felt – almost like something was changing inside of me. The people dancing around the blonde didn’t have the same serene expressions on their faces. If anything, they looked tortured. Unhappy. Like they’d been forced to perform for a powerful witch.

“It’s her,” David said woodenly. “I know it. I just know.”

“This is a dumb coincidence,” I said. My palms felt cold and damp, and my voice was shaky. “It can’t possibly be her. This book is ancient!”

“It’s from the eighteenth century,” David said. “I found it last night.”

“David…what exactly are you saying?”

David swallowed dramatically. “I’m saying, something bad happened to her while she was gone. Something supernatural. Something paranormal, even.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know!” David said hotly. He grabbed the book from my lap and slammed it shut.

“Well, what do you want me to do?”

“Something happened,” David repeated. “And it’s up to us to figure it out.”

--

I felt numb as I went inside and trudged up the stairs to my room. My mom had disappeared from the kitchen, but I only felt a sense of relief that I wouldn’t have to argue with her over David’s weird behavior. I felt exhausted, almost wrung out. Like I could have gone to sleep for a decade and still needed more rest.

I pushed open the door to my room and gasped. My feet were rooted firmly to the spot, and a shiver inched down my spine.

Monica was sitting lotus-style on my bed. When she saw me, she smiled.

“Hey,” Monica said. “God, you took forever to get home! I feel like I’ve been waiting for hours!” Her cheeks were flushed pink.

“I was just outside,” I said slowly. “How did you get here? I’ve been in the driveway the whole time.”

“Elizabeth, come on,” Monica said. “We both know you’re not exactly the most observant person in the world.”

I stared at her. “But…I just…I just went outside a few minutes ago. I didn’t see you come in,” I added. “What’s up?”

Monica grinned. “You’ve been anxious over Steven and Andrea,” she said softly. She raised an eyebrow. “But I know how you can win Steven – for good.”

My jaw dropped. “What?”

“I know all about what’s going on,” Monica continued. “And I know how you can come out on top.” Her grin turned sinister in the low afternoon light.

I felt myself begin to tremble and shake with fear.

“Come here, Elizabeth,” Monica said. She beckoned me with a slender finger. “Don’t you want to know?”

To be continued….

THE END

Book 3: The Hunt

Prologue

Elizabeth – Present Day

“Oh, my god, congratulations!” Karen pulled me into a warm hug, clutching me tightly before releasing me and grabbing my hand. “This is beautiful!”

I bit my lip and smiled self-consciously. I wouldn’t have admitted it for anything in the world, but I’d been staring at my ring for the better part of the day. Until Steven had asked me to marry him, I’d always thought all the fuss and nonsense over new engagements was pretty stupid.

“Thanks.” I grinned at Karen. “And thanks for this. This is all really nice.” I gestured around to the inside of the kitchen. When Steven and I had told her the news, she’d immediately decided that we should throw ourselves an engagement party. I thought the idea was kind of silly, but Karen was really excited. She threw herself into baking these elaborate little appetizers and snacks. Now the house was packed with practically everyone Steven and I had known in grade school and college.

“I know,” Karen said modestly. She smiled again. “This is just so exciting! I don’t even know what to say!”

I nodded slowly. “It feels kind of surreal,” I admitted. “I wasn’t expecting a proposal at all.”

Karen frowned. “You guys didn’t talk about it before?”

I shook my head and narrowed my eyes. “Why? Did Steven say something about it to you?”

“No, nothing like that,” Karen said quickly. “He didn’t even ask me to go ring shopping with him.”

‘Why would he?’ I thought, biting the inside of my mouth to keep from saying it aloud. ‘It’s not like you and I are good friends or anything like that.’

Instead, I forced another smile. “Yeah, well, you know Steven,” I said. I rolled my eyes. “He always has to be right about everything, and on his own terms, too.”

Karen nodded. “So, have you set a date?”

I shook my head. “We’re just taking things one step at a time,” I said slowly. “I don’t even want to think about planning a wedding right now.” I shrugged. “It’s just so much.”

Karen’s eyes got big and wide. “Elizabeth,” she said. “Come on! Aren’t you even a little bit excited?”

The truth was, I wasn’t. The day after Steven had proposed, he’d come home with an armful of magazines and wedding planning books. He’d been really thrilled about it all, and I’d dutifully flipped through a couple of the magazines after dinner while we were sitting in our bedroom. But seeing the exorbitant price tags on everything made me a little squeamish. It seemed so stupid to spend so much on a giant wedding when we weren’t even that social in the first place.

“Yeah,” I said. “Well, I’m excited to be marrying Steven. I don’t really know about a wedding, though.”

“Oh, Elizabeth, it’ll be great,” Karen said enthusiastically. “I have a cousin who’s a wedding planner in Boston. Oh, my god, she just makes everything perfect. Have you thought about a maid of honor yet? Bridesmaids?”

I shook my head.

“Elizabeth!” Karen laughed. “You have to pick that stuff soon! You know, like all of your friends are going to be wondering.”

I shrugged. “I mean, I guess I wasn’t really thinking about having a bridal party.”

Karen looked deeply, personally offended. I wondered if she’d been hoping for an invitation.

“Elizabeth, you have to take this seriously,” Karen said. “This is, like, the one time in life where everything is about you, and you can demand anything you want.”

I laughed nervously. “I don’t really agree,” I said. “I mean, no one actually likes being a bridesmaid, right? They just do it out of obligation?” I wrinkled my nose. “All those tacky dresses … ew,” I added. “Maybe we’ll just go to the courthouse and get married in jeans.”

Just as Karen was about to chastise me, Steven swept through the kitchen and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, relieved to have an excuse to walk away from Karen.

“You look gorgeous,” Steven said. He pulled away, surveying my outfit and grinning. “Man, I haven’t seen some of these guys since high school!”

I nodded, glancing around. Music was blaring through the house, and the kitchen was filled with a bunch of people drinking punch out of red plastic cups and eating Karen’s canapes.

“I still feel like a kid,” I admitted to Steven. “Somehow, I thought getting engaged would make me feel like an adult.”

Steven rolled his eyes and kissed the tip of my nose. “Yeah, you old lady,” he said with a smirk. “All of twenty-two and off the market already.” He laughed at his own joke. For a reason I couldn’t have explained, a feeling of discomfort washed over me, and I nodded mechanically.

“Hey, kid, what is it?” Steven frowned. “You okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “Fine. I’m going to go see who showed up. It’s kind of rude to be ignoring our guests.”

For a moment, Steven looked like he was about to argue. Then he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “you’re right.” He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. “See you later, kid.”

I yelped as Steven playfully swatted me on the ass before grabbing a beer from the fridge and sauntering out of the room, looking cocky and smug.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Karen darting toward me. ‘Shit,’ I thought. I didn’t want to answer any more of her stupid wedding planning questions, although I had a feeling literally everyone at the party would be asking me the same stuff. ‘Is it going to be like this until we get married?’ I wondered as I poured some rum punch in a cup and walked outside. ‘Is everyone just going to ask me about dresses, and venues, and catering, and bridesmaids?’

I knew I should be happy. According to one of the books Steven had brought home the other night, this was supposed to be the happiest time of my life. But whenever I thought about walking down a silent aisle in front of hundreds of people, my throat closed up, and I felt scared and shaky. I hated being the center of attention. The thought of everyone watching me, inspecting my every detail, made me incredibly nervous.

I pushed my way through the crowd and went outside to sit on the porch. Our driveway was overflowing with cars, some of them spilling onto the front yard. I bit my lip and took a long sip of rum punch, enjoying the liquor’s burn as it slid down my throat. Inside, I could hear Steven laughing and cracking loud jokes with his friends about a ball and chain.

If anything, that just made me feel worse.

It was cold and dreary, more like fall weather than spring. The sky was full of inky clouds, racing back and forth, and it wasn’t long before a cold rain started to splash down. I curled up on the porch swing, sipping my rum and listening to the sounds of everyone, but me, enjoying my engagement party.

A station wagon pulled up and parked, the headlights sweeping across the front of the house. The glare was so bright that I couldn’t see who was driving until they parked and climbed out. I gasped. A tall, lanky guy with black hair flopping in his eyes was loping toward the house in an oddly graceful gait.

David.

I stood up and set my cup of punch down. When David got to the porch and saw me, he threw me a cockeyed grin.

“And just what is the bride-to-be doing out here alone? Banished?”

I shook my head. “It’s crowded in there,” I said slowly. “I needed some air.”

David nodded. He stepped closer, and my heart thudded in my chest as he pulled me into a tight embrace. Under his baggy, black clothing, his body was thin, almost bony. But his grip was surprisingly strong, and I sagged against him.

When we pulled away, I felt strangely naked and vulnerable.

David showed no sign of being affected, though. He ambled over to the porch swing and sat down, brushing droplets of water from his lightweight, black trench coat.

“Want some punch?”

“I can go in and get it,” David said.

“No,” I said quickly. “I’ll be right back.” I couldn’t explain it, but something inside of me wasn’t ready to go back in for good. There was something infinitely more appealing about sitting quietly with David and listening to the rain.

Thankfully, no one noticed me as I slunk into the kitchen and poured rum punch into two red cups, filling them up nearly to the brim. I walked outside carefully, holding both cups in front of me and trying not to spill.

“Thanks,” David said when I handed one of the cups over. “I guess congratulations are in order.”

I groaned. “I really, really don’t wanna talk about the wedding right now.”

David narrowed his eyes. His face had changed since we were kids; he’d finally grown into his long facial features. His chin was free of scruff, but his eyes seemed darker than ever.

“Why? Did something happen?”

“No,” I said quickly, “nothing like that.” I sighed. “It’s just…oh, I don’t know. Ever since I got this thing,” I held up my hand, showing David my engagement diamond, “all everyone wants to talk about is wedding planning. And it’s, like, if I don’t wanna talk about it, then I’m the weird one.”

David nodded. “I get that,” he said.

I swallowed a big mouthful of rum punch. The liquor was starting to work its magic on me, and I felt a little more confident than I had before, when Karen had cornered me in the kitchen.

“So,” I said, “are you seeing anyone?”

David shook his head. “No,” he said stiffly. “I haven’t, since–”

“Oh,” I said softly. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

David shrugged. “It’s not a big deal,” he said. “I mean, it is. But I guess not really anymore.”

I sank against the ancient wood of the swing, making the chains that fastened it to the ceiling creak.

“I think about her all the time,” I said. “It’s, like, no matter what I do, she’s always there.”

David nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Sometimes I feel like that, too.”

“I wonder what she’d be doing now,” I said sulkily.

David shrugged. “That’s the part I try not to think about,” he said. His voice was dark and laced with obvious pain. “I hate thinking that she could be here, but she’s not.”

Just as I was about to ask him what exactly he meant, the front door swung open, and Steven strode out. When he saw me, he grinned, but the smile faded instantly when he caught a glimpse of David.

“What’s he doing here?” Steven said, more to David than to me.

“I came to show my support,” David said. He grinned sarcastically at Steven. “Isn’t that allowed? This is an engagement, after all.”

Steven narrowed his eyes and scowled.

“Steven, it’s fine,” I said quickly, getting to my feet. “Really. I invited him.”

“You did what?” Steven glared at me. “Are you kidding me, Elizabeth?”

I shook my head. “Of course not,” I said. My heart skipped a beat in alarm, and I felt blood rising to the surface of my skin.

“Why would you do something like that?”

“Because he is my friend,” I shot back.

“Whatever,” Steven said. He sighed loudly and whistled. “I’m going inside. This is fuckin’ bullshit. Elizabeth, come on.” He pushed the door open and jerked his head toward the inside of the house.

I shook my head. “I’m gonna stay out here for a while,” I said. “It’s too hot in there for me.”

Steven rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said. Before I could reply, he walked inside and slammed the door.

“Sorry about that,” I said to David. “I didn’t know he’d be that pissed.”

Oddly, David didn’t look the least bit bothered by my fiancé’s rudeness.

“I think he’s probably just…” I trailed off. “I don’t know. He’s still upset about Monica, too.” I felt like I was groping for words. “I wouldn’t take it personally.”

David gave me an odd smile. “I didn’t,” he said. He took a long swallow of punch.

I frowned. To be honest, I wasn’t exactly sure what had made me want to invite David. It had been years since we’d talked. But a couple of nights ago, I hadn’t been able to sleep. I’d taken my laptop down to the kitchen and wound up poking around Facebook. David had shown up in a list of people that I ‘might know,’ and I hadn’t been able to resist sending him a message. He’d replied almost instantly, and we ended up chatting until the wee hours of the morning. Toward the end of the conversation, I’d invited him to the engagement party.

Of course, I hadn’t exactly thought that he was going to show up.

“So,” David said. He smirked. “What’s going on, Elizabeth? You look pretty miserable.”

I sighed. “I’m not,” I said. “I…I don’t really know, to be honest. I feel like a lot of stuff is changing, and I’m sort of stuck here, watching it happen.”

“You sound depressed.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that, really,” I said. I bit my lip. “I don’t know. Maybe it is. Maybe I am.”

“If you ever want to talk, I’m here,” David said.

I stared at him. “That’s an odd thing to say.”

“Why? We’re friends,” David said.

“I guess we are,” I said slowly. “I just … I don’t know. I guess I don’t really know what to think right now.”

David nodded. “You’re going through a lot,” he said. “You’ll figure it out.”

I slumped against the porch swing. “I hope so,” I said.

The rain started falling faster and heavier. We sat in silence, rocking slowly on the creaky, old swing. I finished my punch, but I didn’t feel like going back inside; the raucous cries were now louder than ever, and I didn’t feel like facing Steven, or Karen, or any of the other people who were, supposedly, my friends.

Part of me wondered if David was right. I didn’t exactly feel like I was going through anything. And yet, when Steven asked me to marry him, I’d felt a little kernel of doubt in my heart. Over the past few weeks, I’d been practically praying for it to vanish, for real happiness to sink in, for real excitement. But instead, I just felt like I was walking slowly toward a fire that I was powerless to stop.

I stared at David’s elfin profile. In the seven, or so, years since everything had happened, I’d barely thought about him. But now that he was here, next to me, he seemed infinitely more interesting than anything else going on around me.

“I’m gonna go,” David said abruptly. “Thanks for having me, Elizabeth.”

I frowned. “You sure?”

David laughed humorlessly. “Yeah,” he said. “I hate parties. Besides,” he added, glancing toward the front door, “might be a good idea to leave before anything else happens.”

He leaned in for another hug, but made sure to keep most of his body away from mine. I stood stiffly as he kissed me on the cheek.

“Bye, Elizabeth,” David said. “Don’t worry. You’ll be a beautiful bride.” He gave me an ambiguous smile; I couldn’t tell if he was sincere or mocking.

“Bye,” I whispered. David bobbed his head, then loped toward his car and drove off in a haze of rain.

---

I stayed outside for another hour, or so, until the rain finally started to clear and people began filtering out through the front door. Everyone seemed genuinely surprised to see me outside, like they hadn’t even noticed my absence in the house. I forced a smile and greeted them all as they left and walked to the cars. When it was finally quiet inside, I grabbed the empty plastic cups and walked into the kitchen.

Steven and Karen were laughing, doing the dishes together, and flicking suds and water at each other. When Karen saw me, she burst out laughing.

“Elizabeth, where the heck have you been?”

Steven’s smile faded as soon as he saw me. “Hey, Karen, thanks for your help,” he said smoothly. “But, I think Elizabeth and I can take it from here.”

Karen lingered in the doorway, watching me with wide eyes. Finally, when she realized we weren’t going to say anything until after she’d gone, she rolled her eyes and walked upstairs in a huff.

“What the hell was that?!” Steven demanded. “How the fuck could you just leave your own party?”

“I didn’t leave,” I said truthfully. “I was outside. It was too loud in here.”

Steven groaned. “Elizabeth, come on!” He narrowed his eyes. “Do you realize how stupid I looked, entertaining everyone by myself? That was our fucking engagement party, and you weren’t even present!”

“I wasn’t the one who wanted a party,” I shot back. “It was Karen’s idea, and you went along with it.”

“What kind of girl doesn’t want an engagement party?” Steven glared. “Oh, yeah, I forgot. My manic-depressive fiancée. That’s who.”

“That’s not fair,” I shot back. “You know I’ve never been as social as you! You know big things make me uncomfortable.”

“But this is about us,” Steven said. “Elizabeth, you have to compromise with me. We aren’t just eloping, you know.”

“I wish we could,” I muttered under my breath.

“What?” Now, Steven looked truly angry. “What did you just say?”

I shrugged. Suddenly, the will to fight melted, and I shook my head.

“I just wish we didn’t have to have a big wedding,” I said. “I mean, it’s about us, right? We should be able to decide.”

Steven sighed. “Elizabeth, you know we can’t do that. My family would freak out.”

“So? They’re not the ones getting married.”

Steven groaned and raked a hand through his hair. “Elizabeth that is so not the point. Weddings are about two families joining each other, not just us!”

I narrowed my eyes. “Well, I don’t want a big wedding,” I said. “It makes me uncomfortable. You know how much I hate being the center of attention.”

“You’re gonna need to suck it up for a day,” Steven said. He shrugged. “That’s the way weddings are done in my family. You knew that, Elizabeth.”

I felt my anger come rushing back in hot waves. “No,” I said. I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head. “I’m not doing that.”

“Grow up,” Steven muttered. He turned away from me and grabbed a dish from the sink, roughly soaping it and washing it under the stream of water.

I snorted in disbelief. “You don’t respect me,” I said.

Steven dropped the dish in the sink and turned around, putting his hands on his hips. “What did you just say?”

“I said, you don’t respect me.” I felt my anger growing and growing inside of me like a beast – a beast that I couldn’t control. My heart was pounding against my ribs, and even though I knew I would regret it, I couldn’t help spitting out: “And you never have!”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Steven asked warily. “What are you talking about? Of course, I respect you, Elizabeth. Damn it, I asked you to be my wife!”

I took a shaky deep breath. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

Steven crossed the floor in two giant steps and grabbed my arms with his wet, soapy hands. I tried to push him away, but he was stronger, and soon he shook me and pulled me close.

“No, you can’t play games like this,” Steven growled. “You need to tell me what the fuck you meant. Now, Elizabeth!”

“Stop yelling,” I said. “Just forget it, okay?”

“No!” Steven roared. “Damn it, Elizabeth. Tell me!”

I sighed. “I…I know there was something going on between you and your sister,” I finally said. “Back when we were kids, when you and I first started dating.”

Steven’s face turned bloodless and white. He released my arms, and I sagged for a moment before wrapping my arms tightly around my body and holding myself.

“Steven?” I tried nervously. “Are you okay?”

Steven’s mouth formed a thin, angry line. He pushed past me and stalked up the stairs. When I heard the bedroom door slam, I winced.

Part of me wanted to run to him and talk to him, make this better. But another part of me – a bigger part of me – felt like that wouldn’t be a good idea. I poured the last of the rum punch into a cup and sat down at the table, sipping slowly. I wondered what I was doing. I wondered if I should have said ‘no’ when Steven asked me to marry him. As much as I wanted to believe that Steven respected me, I’d just gotten almost concrete proof of the opposite. But maybe that was normal – maybe that was how most marriages worked.

I swallowed and shifted in my chair, feeling uncomfortable. I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do next, but I knew that if I didn’t decide something soon, it would be too late.

Chapter One

Elizabeth – Seven Years Ago

I pushed open the door to my room and gasped. My feet were rooted firmly to the spot, and a shiver inched down my spine.

Monica was sitting lotus-style on my bed. When she saw me, she smiled.

“Hey,” Monica said. “God, you took forever to get home! I feel like I’ve been waiting for hours!” Her cheeks were flushed pink.

“I was just outside,” I said slowly. “How did you get here? I’ve been in the driveway the whole time.”

“Elizabeth, come on,” Monica said. “We both know you’re not exactly the most observant person in the world.”

I stared at her. “But … I just … I just went outside a few minutes ago. I didn’t see you come in,” I added. “What’s up?”

Monica grinned. “You’ve been anxious over Steven and Andrea,” she said softly. She raised an eyebrow. “But I know how you can win Steven – for good.”

My jaw dropped. “What?”

“I know all about what’s going on,” Monica continued. “And I know how you can come out on top.” Her grin turned sinister in the low afternoon light.

I felt myself begin to tremble and shake with fear.

“Come here, Elizabeth,” Monica said. She beckoned me with a slender finger. “Don’t you want to know?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why? What happened? Are you okay?” I walked closer to my friend, unable to keep the fear from welling up inside of my chest. “Did something happen between the end of school and now?”

Monica laughed. Her eyes glittered. “Elizabeth, what are you talking about?” She tossed her blonde hair disdainfully over one shoulder. “I wasn’t in school today. Are you feeling all right?”

My heart sank, and I sat down on the corner of the bed, feeling afraid of my best friend for what felt like the first time in my life. Monica looked so calm and peaceful. She also looked healthy, with pink cheeks and a mysterious look in her brown eyes. The combination of her petite stature and the way she was sitting made her look ancient and wise.

“I saw you in homeroom,” I said warily. “You got angry with me when I asked where you’d been.”

Monica laughed. “God, Elizabeth, stop lying,” she said. “I get it. You’re trying to make me feel guilty. Look, I feel bad that I haven’t been here for you. That’s why I wanna help with Steven.” Her eyes flashed, and she grinned. “I have the perfect idea.”

I licked my lips. My heart was thudding, and my palms were covered in a cold, unpleasant sweat. “Okay,” I said slowly. “What’s up?”

Monica shrugged. “You just have to prove that Andrea is insane,” she said calmly. “That’s all. Then Steven will be yours.”

A wave of nausea washed over me, and I gripped the bedpost, clutching it tightly until my knuckles turned white. “I don’t get it,” I said flatly. “What are you even talking about?”

Monica laughed again. “Elizabeth, come on,” she said. “I know why you’re worried. You think he doesn’t want you because he’s involved with his sister.”

I stared at her in disbelief.

“And she’s crazy,” Monica continued, apparently unruffled by my changing facial expressions. “She’s totally nuts, and we have to prove it.”

I swallowed uncomfortably. “I…I don’t really see how that’s possible,” I said flatly. “We’re not doctors, Monica. We’re kids, just like Andrea.”

Monica laughed. The sound sent chills down my spine. I wished I could close my eyes, cover my ears with my hands, and sing really loudly to drown her out, but I knew I couldn’t. ‘For fuck’s sake, Elizabeth, pull yourself together,’ I ordered myself. ‘She’s probably been through something really horrible and traumatic, and you’re her best friend! You should help her!’

“Look, we don’t need to talk about me right now,” I said. “Why don’t you tell me what happened, where you went?”

“Later,” Monica said calmly. “I wouldn’t worry about that right now.” She raised an eyebrow. “Listen, Elizabeth, I know how we can prove it.”

I sighed. It was obvious she was dead-set on telling me … well, whatever it was that was on her mind. That wasn’t exactly unusual when it came to Monica. Sometimes, her incredible intelligence was like blinders that kept her eyes straight and narrow, focused on just one thing. Obsessing over it, even. I knew I should be glad that she was back to acting like her old self, but there was something different about her. Something off, like a piece of her personality had changed and become harder. I felt like I knew nothing about her as we sat together.

“Okay,” I said uncertainly. “Tell me. How are we going to prove that Andrea is insane?”

Monica chuckled. “That’s the easy part,” she said. “Andrea’s insane because she’s a reincarnated Puritan.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “What?”

“She’s a reincarnated Puritan,” Monica said in a bossy voice. “She’s a direct descendent of this woman, Prudence Arrowsmith, who devoted her life to hunting witches and ridding the world of them.”

I sank against the wall. “Monica …”

“What?” Monica’s brown eyes flashed. “What is it?”

“That …” I trailed off, biting my lip. ‘That sounds crazy,’ I finished in my head. But I knew I couldn’t say that, not to my best friend. ‘Maybe this is Monica’s way of dealing with whatever trauma she just experienced,’ I thought. Tears of worry and fright came to my eyes, and I blinked them away before she could notice.

“It’s true,” Monica said confidently. “She’s exactly the same soul as Prudence. Why the hell do you think she hates me so much?”

‘Well, for one, you scared the shit out of her last year,’ I thought grimly, biting my lip. But I knew I couldn’t say that to Monica.

“I don’t know,” I said weakly. “I guess because you’re not crazy about religion like she is.”

“That’s part of it,” Monica said. She grinned. “But it’s also because she knows me. Our souls have known each other for a very long time, Elizabeth.”

I stared at her in shock. Every word that came out of Monica’s mouth made her sound more and more deranged. The worst part of it was her infuriating calm, the way she sat there smiling, acting like she was giving me some kind of secret news.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “How do you know this?” My heart was racing. I wondered if I shouldn’t be recording our conversation. Monica was obviously very sick. My mind began spinning down a frantic path as I wondered what the hell I was going to do when she left. Obviously, I couldn’t call Jamie and Brian. Even if they did care, they weren’t likely to do anything. Maybe I could talk to my mom, but I had a feeling she’d just call the cops. Maybe—

“You’re not listening,” Monica said peevishly, interrupting my thoughts. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Look, Elizabeth, it’s really simple. We just have to get Andrea to reveal who she really is, and catch her saying it, and then she’ll probably get locked up or something. It’s that easy.”

“I …” I trailed off. ‘Yeah, but do you even realize how you sound?’ I thought as I stared at my best friend. ‘You sound totally nuts. And by your logic, how come they wouldn’t lock you up, too?’

“Don’t be scared, Elizabeth,” Monica said. She reached out and touched me on the shoulder. I tried not to flinch; her thin fingers were as cold as icicles.

“I’m not really scared,” I lied. “I mean, about Andrea.”

“I mean, don’t be afraid of her,” Monica continued. “Just because she’s made it her mission to continue the witch hunt of the old days, that doesn’t mean she knows what she’s doing.”

I gulped. “Are you saying there are witches around here?”

Monica shrugged.

I bit my lip. “Monica, we’re best friends,” I said slowly, “but I’m really worried about you. Ever since you came back, you just seem so different,” I said, groping for words and feeling lamer by the second. “I just think something really bad might’ve happened, and maybe this is the way you’re choosing to deal with it.”

Monica narrowed her eyes. “What? What are you getting at?”

I blushed. “It’s just … you never talk like this,” I said quietly. “You’re so rational. And now you’re talking about witches and reincarnation. Monica, it’s too much. You know that stuff isn’t real. It’s never been real.”

Monica raised her eyebrows.

“And I’m just really worried about you,” I said quickly. “I don’t want anything to be wrong, Monica, but have you thought about maybe seeing a doctor? I could have Steven drive you if you don’t want Jamie and–”
“Enough,” Monica said. She stood up and glared at me. “If you can’t listen to my advice, fine. But I’m just trying to help!” Her nostrils flared with anger, and she stalked toward the door, yanking it open so hard the wall creaked.

“Monica, come on,” I said. “You don’t have to go! I’m just worried about you!”

Monica’s eyes flashed with anger. “Forget it, Elizabeth,” she said. “I can take care of myself!”

As she stormed out of my room, I felt powerless to stop her. I’d thought that when Monica came back, everything would be better. But now, things seemed worse than ever, and I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do to help.

Chapter Two

The next day, I called Steven and asked him to come over. My parents hadn’t come home yet, but I didn’t think they would care. Besides, for once, talking to Steven on the phone didn’t make me nervous. I wasn’t thinking about he and I together; I was worried about Monica.

When Steven came over, I led him into the kitchen. “I was studying,” I said, clearing my stuff off of the table. “Can I get you anything?”

Steven stretched. “Yeah,” he said, “I’m starving. Got anything to eat?”

I burst out laughing.

“What?” Steven cocked his head to the side and gave me a funny look. “What’s going on?”

I blushed. “Nothing,” I said. After a pause, I added, “My mom just made a joke the other day about my little brother, after he ate a whole bag of clementines in one sitting. She said teenage boys are like vacuums.”

Steven snickered. “I ate three sandwiches and two pieces of pizza at lunch,” he said. “And I’m already hungry again.”

I rolled my eyes. Pulling open the fridge, I grabbed a container of brownies and some leftover chicken salad. When I set the boxes down on the table, Steven ripped the lid off the brownies and immediately ate four, rubbing his stomach and groaning. I felt both slightly embarrassed and intrigued – watching someone eat felt intimate and strange. Goosebumps broke out over my body, and eventually, I took a fork and picked at the chicken salad, too afraid that Steven would ask me something as soon as my mouth was full.

“So, what’s up?” Steven belched, covering his mouth. “What did you wanna talk about?”

For a moment, the horrible text I’d seen on Steven’s phone came rushing back to the front of my memory. Closing my eyes, I forced it away.

“Monica,” I said. “Ever since she got back, she’s…she’s been acting really weird, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh yeah?” Steven raised an eyebrow. “Like what? What did she say?”

I blushed. I certainly wasn’t going to tell him everything, although I could practically hear Monica’s words of ‘how to win Steven for good’ echoing in my head.

“Well, that’s the funny thing,” I said slowly, nibbling at a forkful of chicken. “It was kind of about you. Well, not you. I mean, yeah, you, but more about Andrea.”

Steven narrowed his eyes. “Not this séance shit again,” he muttered under his breath. “God, Mom was about ready to kill Monica when that happened last year. Andrea slept with the lights on for six months after that.”

I bit my lip. “No, not about that, exactly…” I trailed off. “She just thinks Andrea is reincarnated.”

“What?”

“Like, she lived another life in another time,” I explained, feeling stupider by the second.

“That’s crazy,” Steven said. He snorted. “Everyone knows that’s bullshit.”

“I know,” I said quickly, suddenly worried that Steven would lump me into Monica’s newfound lunacy. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Well, what exactly did she say? And why does she care about my sister?”

I blushed. I certainly wasn’t going to tell him that.

“I don’t really know,” I lied. “She was just really on this bender about Andrea, and how Andrea is crazy and needs to be locked up or something.”

Steven narrowed his eyes. “My sister definitely isn’t crazy,” he said slowly.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Yeah, of course not,” I agreed. “It’s not really about her, though. It’s Monica I’m worried about. Like, why the fuck does she care about this all of a sudden?”

Steven sighed. “Look, I know she’s your best friend,” he said slowly, “but she’s always been kind of weird, you know? It’s probably because of her parents.” He rolled his eyes. “They’re total idiots.”

“They’re not idiots,” I replied. “They’re just kind of unconventional.”

“Whatever,” Steven said. “My dad says it’s basically the same thing. I mean, why the hell did people like that even choose to have a kid in the first place?”

I frowned. This wasn’t going the way I’d thought – not at all.

“So, is that all that’s bothering you?”

I sighed and bit my lip. “Not really,” I said. “I mean, when I told Monica that she sounded kind of delusional, she got really mad at me and stormed out. And, oh yeah, when she first came over, she totally denied that she’d been in school.”

“Whoa,” Steven said. He lifted a finger to his ear and spun it in circles. “She’s totally losing her mind.”

I slumped down in my chair. “I know,” I said morosely. “I have no idea what to do. It’s not like I could talk to her parents or anyone behind her back, really. She’d be furious with me.”

“Sometimes, being a good friend is hard,” Steven said slowly. “Monica really sounds like she needs help, Elizabeth.”

“Yeah,” I said glumly. “I know.”

---

The next day at school, Monica seemed her usual, serious self. There was no more talk of Andrea being a witch, or anything ludicrous like that. Instead of going to the cafeteria for lunch, I followed Monica to the library because she said she needed to do some research for an upcoming paper. She really seemed truly normal again, and I definitely wasn’t going to bring up our conversation from earlier in the week.

‘Maybe she had kind of an adjustment period,’ I thought as I settled into a chair across the table from Monica, who already had her nose plunged deep in a book about seventeenth-century Americans. ‘Maybe she felt weird about being gone, and she thought lying would distract everyone from asking what really happened.’

“I just want you to know that I’m really glad you’re back,” I whispered, pulling a notebook out of my bag and setting it down on the table. “I missed you.”

Monica looked up and nodded. Her glasses were at the very edge of her nose, and she looked at me over the rims, unsmiling.

“Yeah,” Monica whispered back. “I’m glad, too.”

There was a pause as the librarian shuffled past us, pushing a metal cart loaded with books and DVDs.

“Have you talked to David?”

Monica nodded. She leaned in closer. “We talked on the phone last night,” she said. She sniffed. “He might be coming up this weekend.”

I nodded. “That could be fun,” I said. “Maybe we could all go out and get pizza or something.”

Monica snickered quietly. “Elizabeth, you don’t have treat me with kid gloves,” she said softly. “I know you don’t like him.”

I almost sighed out of pure relief. It felt so good to have my best friend back, especially after all of this craziness.

“Yeah, but I don’t really know him that well yet,” I whispered. “Maybe he’s just shy and we’ll wind up being good friends.”

I thought Monica was going to rebuff me, but she nodded seriously. “I’d like that,” she whispered. “You two are the most important people in my life right now.”

I smiled. “I’m glad.”

Silence fell over us as Monica started scribbling down notes in a blank book, her pen scritching and scratching across the page. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. Maybe now that things were relatively normal again, everything would be fine. I was still dying to know what had happened to my best friend while she was gone, but I was starting to realize that maybe she’d have to tell me in her own time.

“Monica.”

I jumped and spun around to see Andrea standing there, holding a leather-bound book and hugging it to her chest. She looked even younger than normal; her cheeks were as round as a chipmunk’s, and her eyes were big and vacant.

Monica groaned. “I’m busy right now,” she said. “Whatever this is, can it wait?”

Andrea’s eyes flashed, and she smiled coldly. I felt a sinking feeling wash over me, and suddenly, I wished I hadn’t told Steven anything. ‘Idiot,’ I thought. ‘He probably went home and told Andrea everything! Why the heck did I have to say all of that stuff?!’

“Monica, I’m trying to help you,” Andrea simpered sweetly. I stood up and looked around in alarm, searching for the librarian. But everyone else in the library had vanished. Monica, Andrea, and I were completely alone.

“Well, I’m trying to do research for a paper,” Monica said. She yawned, sounding bored. “And this is a library, remember? No talking.” She smirked at Andrea.

Andrea glared. “I’m here to bless you,” she said. She set the leather-bound book on the table, and I groaned when I realized it was a bible. Closing her eyes, Andrea lifted her hands and held them over Monica’s head.

“I command you, unclean spirit,” Andrea said in a low voice, “to–”

“Hey, enough!” I snapped. I leapt up from my chair and grabbed Andrea’s hands, pulling her away from Monica. “Look, we’re busy, okay?” I forced a smile. “Whatever this is, it’s not a good idea right now.”

“Oh, please,” Andrea said. She rolled her eyes and yanked her hand free with surprising strength. “Elizabeth, you’re just as wicked as Monica! You should be begging me to bless you!”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, god,” I said dramatically. “What does that even mean?”

Monica was glaring at Andrea with intense hatred in her brown eyes. “Andrea, leave,” Monica said darkly. “You’re not wanted here.” She raised her eyebrows, smirking.

“Hush, evil one!” Andrea said. She lifted her hands and closed her eyes. “I command you, unclean spirit, whoever you are, along with all your minions now attacking this servant of God, by the mysteries of the incarnation, passion, resurrection, and ascension of our Lord Jesus Christ, by the descent of the Holy Spirit, by the coming of our Lord for judgment–”

Suddenly, Andrea’s eyes flew open, and her lips clamped together. A strange noise emerged from her mouth, almost like she was struggling to talk. Her body began to shake, and she lifted her hands to her mouth. When I realized she was trying to pull her lips open, I gasped.

“Monica, what the fuck?” I hissed. “What the hell is going on?”

Monica didn’t reply. She sat stiff and tall, staring at Andrea. Her brown eyes were lit with intensity, almost like a light was shining through them. She jerked her head to the side, and I gasped as Andrea’s body was flung through the air like a rag doll. Andrea finally cried out, gasping and screaming as she slammed into the painted cinderblock wall. A sickening crack filled the air, and then Andrea crumpled to the ground.

“Oh, my god!” I ran to Andrea’s prone figure and knelt down. Her eyes were glassy slits, and she was moaning through her mouth. I put my hand to her forehead. She felt cold and clammy.

“My leg,” Andrea whimpered. Tears came to her eyes, and she blinked, spilling them down her chubby cheeks. “It hurts!”

A wave of fear struck my heart as I looked down at Andrea’s limp body. Her left leg was sticking out at an odd angle.

“Monica!” I yelled. “You’d better call 9-1-1!”

But when I glanced around, Monica was leaning over her book, once again absorbed in taking notes.

Chapter Three

I was nervous as I sat in the waiting room of Manchester General Hospital, waiting for news – any news – on Andrea’s condition. After she’d fallen, everything seemed to happen in a blur. I grabbed my cell phone and ran out of the school, trying to get reception. But by the time I got on the phone with a 9-1-1 operator, the police had already been called. Soon, the school was swarmed with cop cars, ambulances, even a fire truck with the siren blaring.

Monica had refused to come with me to the hospital. “I have to get home and start writing this,” she’d said, sniffing and holding her chin high in the air. “I missed a lot of work when I wasn’t in school, and it’s not like I can let my grades slip.”

Her reaction hadn’t exactly surprised me, but I couldn’t help feeling a little sad. It was strange. I didn’t really like Andrea, especially not after how I’d seen her act around Steven, but I felt like all people deserved a basic level of compassion after getting hurt so badly. Especially, because I still wasn’t sure how it had all happened. When I thought about it, everything seemed like a blur. I could close my eyes and try to envision Andrea flying through the air, but it seemed impossible – like my mind was playing tricks on me. I knew it was impossible: people didn’t fly.

But then what the hell had happened?

Mr. and Mrs. D’Amico were in the waiting room, too, with Steven and a handful of relatives I’d never met. I was surprised that more kids from school hadn’t shown up. A couple of years before, I’d been in a minor car accident with my mom and I’d needed four stiches. I’d been shocked that practically everyone from school had shown up to see me, even though I’d never been popular. I remember thinking at the time that everything was about to change. Surely, when I went back to school, I’d have loads of new friends.

But nothing changed. People forgot, and time went on, and I stayed as unpopular as ever.

So, it shocked me then that no one was there to see Andrea, especially considering the mysterious circumstances of her accident. After the ambulance had taken her away, the principal had called Monica and me into his office and asked us questions. But Monica hadn’t been much help, and obviously, I wasn’t either. It was weird. Why had Andrea fallen like that? She landed at least ten feet away from where we’d all been standing.

It was all very strange to consider.

After an hour of waiting, a doctor poked his head into the waiting room and called for Andrea’s parents. They went in to see her, white-faced and tight-lipped, without even acknowledging me.

An older woman wearing a crocheted sweater and a large, wooden crucifix scooted close to me and smiled benignly.

“Are you one of Andrea’s little friends from school?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “We’re in the same grade.”

“How sweet that you came to see her,” the woman said, beaming. “I’m her Aunt Claire.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said warily.

“What’s your name?”

A flash of panic went through me. Obviously, this woman had no idea who I was, but she was nosy enough to keep prying. I felt embarrassed to admit it, but I didn’t want her to know that I’d been in the room when Andrea had gotten hurt.

Thankfully, at that moment, Mrs. D’Amico called for me.

“Sorry,” I lied, jumping up from the uncomfortably hard, plastic bucket seat and racing into the hall.

“She’s very heavily sedated,” Mrs. D’Amico told me. Her forehead was creased with worry. “I think you can go in, but just for a few minutes.”

“Thanks,” I said nervously. As quietly as I could, I slipped into the hospital room and shut the door behind me. I could hear Mr. and Mrs. D’Amico whispering in the hall, and I prayed under my breath that Andrea would stay calm.

Andrea looked terrible. Her leg was up in traction and there was a bulky, pink cast stretching from her hip to her foot. Her face was pale, and her hair clung to her forehead in greasy strands. When she saw me, she narrowed her eyes.

“Andrea, I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry,” I said quickly. “I won’t stay long, but I wanted you to know that I feel really bad.”

Andrea sniffed. Under the florescent lighting of the hospital, she looked almost green.

“Get out, Elizabeth,” Andrea said quietly. “I don’t want to see you right now.”

“Just hear me out,” I begged. “Andrea, Monica’s really, really sorry. She never wanted anything like this to happen, and it’s not like she caused it–”

“Get out!” Andrea shrieked. Her voice was so loud that it pierced my eardrums. She glared at me, narrowing her eyes and crying out. “Get out! Get out!” Andrea’s rage dissolved into a fit of sobs, and after just a second, she was crying so hard that I could tell she was having trouble breathing. My heart was beating a rapid staccato in my chest, and my hand was shaking as I reached for the box of tissues at her bedside table.

“Andrea, please,” I begged. “You have to know sorry we are, both of us–”

“Shut up!” Andrea screeched. “Get out!”

The door opened, and Mrs. D’Amico gazed at her daughter and then at me with clear alarm. She grabbed my shoulder and yanked me into the hall.

“What did you say to her?” Mrs. D’Amico demanded. “What the H is going on, Elizabeth?”

Angrily, I pulled free of her grip and ran down the hall until my lungs ached. I couldn’t concentrate, I couldn’t think. My mind was spinning, and I had absolutely no idea what to do. Fear and anger welled up inside of me, and I stood for a moment, panting and resting with my hand against the hospital doors.

I had to find out what was really going on.

I had to go talk to Monica.

On the bus home from Manchester, my mind was swirling and reeling. I tried calling Monica to ask if she was home, but she didn’t answer. For the first time that day, I felt a flash of anger toward my friend. ‘She’s being a coward,’ I thought. ‘She should’ve come with me to the hospital, and she knows it. She knows it!’ And yet, at the same time, I couldn’t explain it. I knew rationally that Monica couldn’t have had anything to do with Andrea breaking her leg. I never saw Monica even lift a finger toward Andrea, and besides, someone as small as Monica couldn’t have even thrown a baseball ten feet, let alone another teenager.

Andrea had broken her leg in two places, and the doctor had mentioned that she was going to be in a cast for months. I shuddered when I thought about her lying helpless and small in that dull hospital room. I hadn’t felt very warm toward Andrea since the séance incident, but I couldn’t help but pity her now. It wasn’t her fault that she was so…devout. And sooner or later, Monica was going to have to apologize.

The confusion was killing me.

By the time I got back to Jaffrey, it was dark and cold. I ran all the way from the bus stop to Monica’s house on the outskirts of town. The lights were on and music was blaring loudly from the living room. I had to knock three times before the door opened.

Jamie was standing there in a casual sweater and jeans. She smiled when she saw me, and I couldn’t help flinching.

“Hi,” I said quickly. “I really need to talk to Monica.”

“Come in, Elizabeth,” Jamie said. She opened the door widely and smiled. “You hungry?”

My stomach felt like a toothpaste tube squeezed empty, but I knew that if I even smelled food, I was likely to throw up. I shook my head.

“No, thanks,” I told her. “Is Monica here?”

Jamie didn’t reply. “Brian and I were in the dining room,” she said. “Come talk to us. We haven’t seen you around in a while.”

I nodded. ‘Yeah,’ I thought as I walked slowly behind Jamie into the bright house, ‘because your daughter vanished, and you didn’t even give a fuck.’

Brian was sitting at the dining room table, papers spread out in front of him. He had that exact same intense look that Monica had worn that afternoon in the library. He didn’t even glance up when he saw me. It wasn’t until I’d sat down across from him that he finally seemed to acknowledge my presence.

“Hey, Elizabeth,” Brian said. He smiled easily. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Thought you might be jealous of that boyfriend, or something.” He laughed.

Jamie joined in, and I forced an awkward smile as Monica’s parents hooted with laughter.

“Uh, yeah,” I said quickly. “I mean, no, I’m not jealous of David.”

“When Jamie and I got together, her sister acted like a real banshee,” Brian said. He smirked. “Remember that, hon?”

“She was jealous,” Jamie said. She nodded. “Probably because she wasn’t used to anyone getting attention but herself,” she added. “Elizabeth, I wouldn’t worry. I know Monica isn’t really serious about that boy.”

I smiled tightly and swallowed. “Right,” I said. “Look, I really need to talk to Monica. Is she home?”

Jamie and Brian glanced at each other and shrugged. “Not that I know of,” Jamie said. “Did you try calling her?”

My heart sank. I didn’t want to think the worst, but I couldn’t help feeling like it was the weekend after the party all over again. Just what exactly was going on here?

“Can I look upstairs?”

Jamie laughed. “Sure,” she said. “But Elizabeth, I really don’t think she’s here. She told me she was going out for a while.”

I slumped. “Do you know if she’s with David?”

Jamie laughed again. “Elizabeth, if I tried keeping up with Monica’s schedule, I’d completely lose my mind. You know her.”

I squinted. “I don’t even know what that means,” I said dumbly.

“I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” Brian said. “She told me she has plans this weekend.”

I sighed. “Did…did she mention anything about today? Like, at school?”

“No,” Jamie said. She looked interested for the first time since I’d gotten there. “Why? What happened?”

I sighed. “I don’t really know,” I said slowly. “We were in the library, and Andrea came in–”

“That D’Amico girl?” Jamie narrowed her eyes. “The one who flipped out last year after that silly little thing?”

I nodded miserably. “Yeah,” I said. “Anyway, she came in to talk to Monica and um, something happened. I don’t really know what, but Andrea got hurt. She’s in the hospital in Manchester. Her leg is broken in two places.”

Jamie’s eyes widened. “You’re not saying Monica had anything to do with that, are you?”

I shook my head quickly. “No,” I said. “I just wanted to talk to her, that’s all. She kind of ran off after we finished talking to the principal.”

“Is Monica in trouble at school, Elizabeth?” Brian glanced up from his work, looking almost exactly like Monica when she eyed me over the rims of her glasses.

“No,” I said quickly. “I mean, at least as far as I know. She’s fine. I just really want to talk to her, that’s all.”

Jamie shrugged. “She probably feels terrible,” she said. “I mean, what a bad accident to happen to that girl,” she added. “But I know Monica didn’t have anything to do with that.”

“I’m not saying she did,” I replied. “I just think it’s…I don’t know, odd. That’s all.”

Jamie shrugged. “You kids all have so much energy,” she said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was some kind of psychic poltergeist thing.”

I narrowed my eyes, but Brian laughed.

“Elizabeth, here you go. That’s some real seventies psychology,” he said. He snickered. “My wife, the counselor.”

I stood up and shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “I’m gonna go,” I said. “Could you tell Monica to call me back when she gets home?”

But Jamie and Brian weren’t even listening; they were sharing some anecdote from their days back in college, about poltergeists and teenagers. I rolled my eyes and slunk out of their dining room, feeling more unsatisfied than ever.

When I left Monica’s, I had no idea where to go. I wandered aimlessly for over an hour before I realized the D’Amicos were likely still at the hospital. ‘I should go to talk to Steven,’ I thought, my stomach churning with anxiety. ‘Maybe he can at least tell me what he said to Andrea.’

I was still winded from running so much earlier, but it felt like the walk over to Steven’s house took no time at all. When I got there, I was almost disappointed when he opened the door. Then I realized that it was just because I was worried that he was angry with me.

But Steven didn’t look angry – just nervous. He leaned down and kissed my cheek, sending a small thrill down my spine. It felt inappropriate at a time like this, but I was glad that he was showing me affection.

“Hey,” I said.

“What’s up?” Steven nodded for me to follow him inside. Together, we sat in the D’Amicos’ living room, and Steven brought us bottles of cherry-flavored sparkling water from the fridge.

“My mom drinks this stuff all the time,” he said, unscrewing the cap and downing nearly the whole bottle in one go. “I used to hate it, but it’s kind of growing on me.”

I could tell he was nervous. Steven usually didn’t like to waste time with small talk.

“I went to see Andrea in the hospital,” I said. I bit my lip and looked down at my lap. “I want to apologize for Monica, but Andrea didn’t really want to see me.”

Steven nodded. “Look, Elizabeth … what exactly happened in the library? My sister isn’t an old woman, it’s not like she’s just randomly going to fall down and break her hip.”

I sighed and recounted the events again. Even though I’d only told a few people what happened, it seemed like I’d been repeating the story for ages.

“That’s crazy,” Steven said.

I nodded. “It really is,” I said quietly. “I have no idea what happened. It was like, something just picked Andrea up and threw her across the room.”

“And you know for sure it wasn’t Monica?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you kidding? She weighs like, eighty pounds soaking wet. Andrea’s heavier than she is. There’s no way Monica could have even lifted someone like that, much less threw them across the room.” I sighed. I couldn’t lie. The fact that Steven was accusing me of lying about Monica stung.

“No, that’s not exactly what I mean,” Steven said slowly. An odd look came over his face. “Elizabeth, I know this sounds crazy…but what if Monica was right?”

My stomach twisted into a mess of knots. “About what?” I asked.

Steven sighed. His cheeks burned pink, and he ran a hand through his messy blond hair. “This sounds so dumb,” he said after a long pause. “I can’t even say it out loud.”

“Come on,” I said. “You started it – you have to tell me now. What’s going on?”

Steven looked incredibly uncomfortable. “I mean, about witches,” he said slowly. “Or like, about reincarnation.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

Steven held his hands up in the air. “Look, I know it sounds totally crazy,” he said. “And I promise, I’m not losing my mind. But I started thinking the other night, like, what if something is controlling Monica?”

“Controlling her and making her do what?” I asked, even though I was worried I already knew the answer. My heart was thudding, and a strange feeling came over me. I couldn’t believe that Steven and I were seriously having a conversation about whether or not my best friend was a witch.

“You know,” Steven said. He gestured in the air, then took a long swig of sparkling water. “Like, making her act out. Making her disappear. Giving her … I don’t know, giving her powers.”

I stared blankly at Steven. “It sounds completely insane,” I said. “And I don’t believe it. There’s no way anything supernatural is going on here, Steven.” I rolled my eyes. “You sound like Monica right before the party. She wouldn’t shut up about that stupid livestock thing.”

Steven looked offended. “Yeah,” he said. “But then right after the party, she disappeared for the first time. And that’s when all this weird shit started going on.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I don’t know, Elizabeth. It just seems too weird to ignore.”

I frowned. “It is weird,” I said. “But there has to be some kind of rational explanation, right?”

“Or not,” Steven said. He leaned against the couch and crossed his arms. “I know you probably think I’m losing my mind. But I’m really starting to believe it,” he said. “What do you think?”

I frowned. I thought a lot of things. One of them was that Steven was probably crazy. But as stupid as it sounds, I was afraid to disagree with him. I was afraid to speak up, afraid that he’d suddenly decide he didn’t want anything to do with me.

“I don’t know,” I said softly. “I don’t know what I think anymore.”

Chapter Four

Monica

I knew something was wrong before I even opened my eyes. The earthy scent of rotten leaves and pine needles filled my nose, and my heart was beating a slow rhythm in my chest.

I groaned. Somehow, I didn’t even need to look around to know where I was.

“Monica.” Henrik’s voice was stern and deep. I opened my eyes to see him sitting next to my cot, scribbling in a leather-bound book.

I sat up, hugging my knees to my chest and letting my shoulders slump in defeat. “Why did you bring me here?”

Henrik glared at me. The lines on his face seemed more prominent, and his wild shock of white hair was tied at the nape of his neck with a leather thong. Instead of everyday robes, he wore a loose-fitting tunic of some woven material with a pair of creased linen trousers. I almost laughed. He looked like one of the old hippies that my parents knew.

“Do not force me to tell you,” Henrik said sternly. “You know exactly why I’ve brought you here, Monica.”

I shivered and pulled the thin blanket around me. “It was an accident,” I said blankly. “I never meant to hurt her.”

Henrik groaned. “Come,” he ordered. “You are to stay here with us until you’ve learned to control yourself like an adult.” He stood up, rubbed his lower back, then turned on his heel and lumbered out of the small cottage.

Despite my unhappiness at being spirited away to the coven, I couldn’t deny how beautiful the woods looked. It was late fall, and I should have been cold. Aside from the blanket around my shoulders, I was wearing a thin sweater and jeans. But I was smart enough by now, to know that Henrik and Ligeia controlled every aspect of their environment. I might as well have been in a laboratory, with electrodes at my temples and wearing a paper gown. Sometimes the whole ‘embrace nature’ thing seemed like a gimmick that Henrik used to bring in new members.

“You’re awfully argumentative today,” Henrik observed slyly as we walked together through the crisp woods.

I rolled my eyes. “Stop,” I said, shaking my head. I tapped my temple with my pointer finger. “I don’t want you in here. Not today.”

Henrik grabbed me by the shoulders. His eyes were filled with anger.

“This is not a joke,” Henrik hissed.

“I never said it was.” I yanked myself free and crossed my arms over my chest. “I told you, it was an accident!”

Henrik shook his head in obvious disgust. “You will be the ruin of everything I have built,” he said bitterly.

I narrowed my eyes. “That’s a bit much,” I said dryly. “You’re acting like I caused some giant, Earth-shattering event.”

Henrik whistled once, so low that the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Seconds later, Ligeia appeared. Her long hair was bound in an elegant braid, and she wore the same shapeless garments as Henrik. She glared at me.

“Monica, what were you thinking?” Ligeia demanded. “You need to be more careful!”

“You’re acting like she wasn’t provoking me,” I said, glaring at both Ligeia and Henrik. “Come on. She tried to do, like, a fucking exorcism on me! In the middle of the library! At my school,” I added for emphasis. “What was I supposed to do, just sit there and let her?”

Ligeia exhaled forcefully. “Take this,” she said. She passed me an earthenware mug filled with a steaming, foul-smelling liquid.

“What is it?”

“You don’t get to ask questions right now,” Henrik snapped. “As I said, you will remain with us until you’ve learned how to control your impulses. Now that Prudence has sensed you, she isn’t going to relent. She will keep attacking. You cannot allow yourself to lash out again.”

I bit my lip and sniffed at the liquid suspiciously before downing it all in one gulp. It was bitter and hot, and it burned my throat all the way down. I choked and sputtered, leaning against a tree until the rough bark made my skin throb in pain.

“What the hell was that?” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “What are you doing to me?”

Ligeia and Henrik exchanged a glance.

“Just some herbs,” Ligeia said. She smiled calmly. “Hallucinogenic herbs. You’ll be taking them daily and working with the others on controlling your impulses.”

My stomach twisted painfully, and I cried out, retching and gagging. I was sure the liquid was going to come rushing back up my throat, hot and vile, but nothing happened. After a few seconds, I felt a strange, heavy calm descend over my limbs. It felt like I’d just crawled into bed and pulled the covers over my body.

“Come,” Ligeia said. She nodded her head to the side. I followed her. My movements were jerky and strange, like a doll, but I couldn’t stop. The nausea returned, and my mouth felt unbearably dry. After a few seconds, I was aware of everything in my body pulsing and twitching and moving together. My organs, full of blood and bile, shifted wetly together, squished inside my abdomen, protected by a cage of bone and fat. My stomach sloshed from side to side, filled with spit, and bile, and that hideous, liquid tea. I even felt the spongy tissue of my lungs breathing in shallow, jerky breaths. Suddenly, I wanted very much to stop thinking.

“You have to be aware of yourself at all times,” Ligeia said softly. She took my hand. “Do not be afraid, Monica. This is a procedure you must learn to accommodate.”

“It’s uncomfortable,” I said stiffly. My heart skipped a beat, and my stomach lurched. My center of gravity shifted, and, for a moment, the world around me plunged into a terrifying warp speed. Trees, and sky, and dead leaves spun round and round, faster and faster, until I felt rooted to the spot by an unearthly, centrifugal force.

“You can feel the Earth move,” Ligeia said. “Don’t fight it, Monica. Embrace this; embrace this and learn.”

I moaned lowly as Ligeia guided me to a clearing in the woods. Large, flat rocks were placed in a circle. This time, I needed no instruction. I walked unsteadily toward the rocks, lowering myself onto one at the center.

Sitting, the vertigo was almost worse. I kept my eyes wide open, unable to look away from the swirling blend of green, and blue, and brown all around me. My skin stretched and expanded with every breath, and I shuddered with the realization that my skin was the only thing keeping my body together. Instantly, I pictured myself melting onto the dirty ground, organs seeping out of my pores with blood, and sweat, and piss. I shuddered.

“Do not be afraid,” Ligeia said softly. She lowered herself down next to me. When I looked at her, the world stopped spinning. Her blue eyes seemed to be the center of the universe, her lined, worldly face, the face that guided the sun and the moon.

“I…” I trailed off, unable to compose my own thoughts into words.

Ligeia pressed my hand. “Just breathe,” she said softly. “Breathe in, and the world breathes with you.”

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Then I felt it – the powerful air sucking into the sponges of my lungs, the stretched feeling in my chest when I was filled with oxygen. I felt my blood revitalizing and turning from blue to red with the infusion of air. I felt my whole body lift and sink with each breath until I was riding on a tide of highs and lows, all connected. There was no place where my body stopped and the Earth began. And with each breath, I grew more confident still.

“There,” Ligeia said. Her voice was low and filled with approval. “You are beginning to understand, Monica.”

I stayed with the coven for a week, drinking that noxious tea and training myself to become one with the Earth. The hangovers each morning were awful. Instead of feeling like one with the universe, I felt like a disgusting creature that needed to be put out of its misery. But Ligeia assured me the feeling would pass, and after a few hours, it did. Still, I looked forward to the day when Henrik would approve of my going home.

It didn’t take long. After seven days of hallucinations and seven nights of agonizing, sweat-filled sleep, Henrik came to me.

“You may depart us,” Henrik said. “But do not think we will turn a blind eye, Monica.” His eyes stared at me with heady disapproval. “I am proud at the work you have accomplished in such a short time. But in no way should you take that to mean that you are free from making the same mistakes again.”

I leaned over and vomited hot bile onto the grass, sputtering and wiping at my mouth.

Henrik waited patiently for me to finish. “You have a new handle on yourself,” he said. “And we expect you to keep control of that at all times.”

I shrugged, trying to play off how sick I felt. I was so exhausted and tired. I couldn’t wait to get home, take a long shower, and collapse into bed.

“I’ll try harder,” I said weakly. “That’s all I can do.”

Henrik smiled, but he still looked serious. “Yes,” he said heavily. “This is a tense time for our worlds, Monica. We cannot have you fail.”

I swallowed, grimacing at the taste in my mouth. “I know,” I said. “Trust me. I know.”

---

The next morning when I woke up, I was so happy to be home that I could’ve cried. My sheets smelled like fresh laundry and dirty hair, and I sighed, pulling the covers around me. The air in my bedroom felt cold, and I frowned when I realized the window was open.

I shivered as I climbed out of bed and pulled on a robe. When I got to the window, I gasped. A solid foot of snow was blanketing the ground, and icicles hung from every surface. ‘This is weird,’ I thought, closing the window and blowing on my frozen fingers. ‘It normally doesn’t snow until December.’

Downstairs, Jamie and Brian were cooking breakfast. Neither one of my parents seemed surprised to see me. I can’t say that I expected otherwise, but it still stung.

“Oh, hi there,” Jamie said. She passed me a plate of bacon without even looking at me. “Long trip, huh?”

I stared at her. “Yeah…” I trailed off, biting my lip. “Um, did I tell you guys where I was going?”

Jamie smiled indulgently. “Honey, you know you don’t have to do that! We trust each other in this family,” she said.

I narrowed my eyes. “How long was I gone?”

Jamie shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said. She frowned, ticking her fingers. “A few weeks? Maybe a month or two?”

My jaw dropped. “What day is it?”

“It’s the twentieth.”

“Of September?”

Jamie laughed. “Honey, no. It’s December!” She laughed. “I think you and David smoked a little too much reefer!”

I sank against the back of my chair. I couldn’t believe it. Over a month had passed since I’d last been home! I shivered again, wrapping my arms around my body and hugging myself tightly. What the hell was going on?

Brian sat down next to me with a steaming mug of coffee. Even though the scent was totally different, I couldn’t shake my association with the hallucinogenic tea, and I coughed, trying to squash the urge to vomit.

Brian chuckled. “Bad hangover, huh? Coffee always helped me,” he said calmly.

I licked my dry lips. “So, Mom said I’d been gone for over a month,” I said slowly.

Brian looked perplexed for a moment, then nodded. “Yep,” he said slowly. “That sounds about right.”

“And you guys didn’t care that I was gone? You didn’t go around asking anyone what had happened to me?”

Jamie turned to me with a perplexed look on her face. “Sweetie, why would we do that? We trust you,” she repeated, emphasizing the word. Her eyes were glazed. “We trust you,” she said again, in a strangely toneless voice.

“That’s right,” Brian repeated. His voice sounded hollow. His eyes had the same blank, vacant look as my mother’s.

Tears came to my eyes, and I nodded quickly, pushing away from the table and running out of the room. My appetite was no longer there, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks.

Jamie and Brian weren’t just typical hippie parents.

Henrik had been controlling them.

The entire time.

Chapter Five

Elizabeth

I was running through a dark wood, stumbling and shrieking with fright each time a branch lashed at my face. My heart raced and my breath was coming in shallow pants, but I couldn’t stop. I felt compelled to keep going, like there was something urging me on from behind, something I couldn’t seem to shake no matter how fast I plunged on.

The darkness was overwhelming. I’d never seen woods like this before in my life. The trees were thick and black and so dense that I had to run with my arms above my head just so I wouldn’t stumble and fall.

“Ahh!” I screamed as my foot caught on a branch and I went sprawling to the ground. I hit with much more impact than necessary, scraping my knees and the palms of my hands on twigs and rocks. Pain shot through my body, but I could already feel myself getting back to my feet and running on.

My feet carried me faster and faster through the woods until finally I stumbled into a clearing. A pale, unearthly light shown over the ground, and I glanced up to see the moon, large and sunken in the sky. I gasped. The moon looked much larger than it should, almost like the Earth had somehow moved closer.

The clearing was covered with large, flat rocks arranged in a circle. My breath caught in my throat as a strange chanting reached my ears. The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up, and goosebumps broke out over my skin as the chanting grew nearer and nearer. I shivered, rooted to the spot. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t move.

A slow-moving line of people began to fill the clearing. Their chanting was atonal and alarming. It filled my senses with a strange feeling of dread as the people moved around me, swaying back and forth and walking slowly, almost as if they were drugged. I swallowed uncomfortably as the people moved around me, almost as if they didn’t see me standing there.

I tried to reach out and grab the sleeve of the nearest person, but they dodged away.

“Hey,” I said sharply. “What is this? What am I doing here?”

My question went ignored. The chanting grew louder, and the people all lifted their hands in unison to the moon, swaying and dancing in an eerie rhythm. A loud crack of thunder filled the air, and the chanting suddenly stopped. Everyone lifted their hands to their robes and pushed the hoods back, revealing a diverse group of old and young. They were all clothed in long, black robes, aside from one woman. She looked ancient; long white hair spilled over her shoulders, and her blue eyes shone with purpose.

“You have come,” the woman said. She was staring directly at me.

I froze. “What…what’s going on?”

The woman ignored my question. I turned around to see if she was speaking to someone else, but the woods had closed up behind me like a great vacuum.

“You are here to join us,” the woman said. She wasn’t smiling. She began to hum, and soon, the others resumed chanting. They moved in slow, jagged circles around the rocks and each other, anonymous and creepy.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I shrieked. A cold chill ran through my veins, and I shivered. Suddenly, I felt my stomach twist and cramp with painful nausea. As I dropped to my knees, the chanting grew louder. I cried out in pain and opened my mouth to see a steady torrent of blood gushing from my throat. It spilled onto the ground, soaking into the dark soil and spreading around me in a wide circle. To my horror, I found that I couldn’t stop. Soon, I felt my body growing weak with the effort. The blood was pouring from me at an alarming rate, and I began to feel dizzy.

The strange woman raised her voice and screamed – a blood-curdling scream. Soon, the others began to shriek and wail, tearing at their robes.

“Help me,” I choked, spewing blood. “Help me! I can’t breathe! Someone, help!”

The screaming only grew louder, and then I fell to the ground, exhausted.

“Augh!”

I sat up in bed, my heart racing. Immediately, I began pawing at my face and chest, half-expecting to feel wet, sticky blood. But there was nothing on my skin, save for a fine sheen of sweat that had broken out in my dream. My room was dark, and the clock on my bedside table flashed three in the morning, on the dot.

As I lay back down in bed, I knew I was done with sleep for the night.

In the morning, I told Mom I was sick. It didn’t take much convincing as she looked at me and nodded.

“Stay home today,” Mom said. Behind her, I heard the whining of my younger brother, Aidan. To Aidan, Mom said, “Shush. Your older sister’s going through a lot of stuff.”

I swallowed nervously. “Are you going to stay home, too?”

Mom narrowed her eyes at me. “Elizabeth, are you okay?” She came closer, putting her hand to my forehead.

“Yeah,” I lied.

“You haven’t asked me to stay home with you in years,” Mom said. I heard the catch in her voice. “You’re growing up so fast, Elizabeth. Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said weakly. “Just a bad night. I’ll be okay when I get some sleep.”

Mom nodded. “Okay, honey,” she said. She sighed. “Just call me if you need anything, okay?”

I nodded again, pulling the covers up to my chin and closing my eyes. My mom was barely out of my room by the time I fell asleep again. This time, I fell into a deep, dreamless slumber that lasted for hours. When I woke up again, it was early afternoon. The snow from the week before still hadn’t melted, and I felt the chill creeping through the thin walls of our house.

Shivering, I climbed out of bed and got into a shower so hot it burned my scalp. I didn’t care. I wanted to scrub the memory of that creepy dream from my mind. It had seemed so real, almost more like a vision than a dream.

I stayed in the shower until the hot water was gone, then got dressed and curled up in bed with my computer. I felt stupid Googling ‘witches,’ especially when the first dozen or so results were for so-called ‘magic shops’ and tarot cards. I shuddered again. The witches in my dream hadn’t been anything like the hippie women who worked at the herbal store in town. They’d obviously had some kind of dark purpose.

Just as I was about to give up, I saw a small, purple link at the bottom of a site on local New Hampshire history. Just reading the words ‘The Coven’ sent shivers crawling down my spine. I hesitated for a few seconds before clicking. Just what exactly was I doing, anyway? Witches weren’t real. They’d never been real. It had all been paranoia, a response to the religious fervor of the times.

‘You’re being stupid,’ I told myself. ‘Just read the damn page.’

With a lump in my throat, I waited for the text to load. It was one of those older sites, with animated font and old clip art moving from the top of the page to the bottom. I laughed out loud – it looked exactly like a site that my dad had built for my mom back when I was a little kid.

But when my eyes focused on the text, I felt a new shiver of fear.

“New England is home to a rich history of witchcraft. Despite the notoriety of the Salem Witch Trials in the late seventeenth-century, magical activity has yet to cease. In fact, many families in the Jaffrey area are descended from powerful, magical beings. Some even believe in reincarnation – the idea that a soul can live throughout the ages, in different bodies, in different lifetimes.”

I shivered as I read on. ‘This is so dumb,’ I thought with a sigh. ‘I’m home alone, and I’m freaking myself out for no reason. I need to get a freaking life.’

When I looked down at the page again, my mouth went dry. There at the bottom was a painting, identical to the one David had shown me in that old book. Monica, or someone who looked almost exactly like her, was standing in the middle of a circle of witches, smiling serenely as they moved around her.

Breathing hard, I slammed my laptop shut and reached for my phone. I still wasn’t ready to believe that witches existed. But there was definitely something going on, and I was finally willing to admit to myself that it didn’t seem entirely rational.

I texted Steven, asking if I could meet up with him after school. He took a long time to get back to me. By the time he replied, school was about to end. I got dressed in jeans and a heavy sweater, then raced over to the D’Amicos’ house.

Mrs. D’Amico let me in. She gave me a tight smile, and I felt another wave of guilt wash over me. I hadn’t seen her since that day at the hospital. Whenever Steven and I had gotten together since then, we’d gone out. I still felt really uncomfortable in the D’Amico house, but my need to talk to Steven was greater than my need to keep my head down – at least, for now.

Andrea was sitting in the living room, bundled up like an invalid. She’d been out of the hospital for a few weeks, but she was still in a cast from her waist to her foot. Despite this, she didn’t look unhappy. In fact, she looked calm, almost serene.

“Hi,” I said nervously, sitting on the other end of the couch. “How are you, Andrea?”

Andrea gave me a pinched smile. “I’m fine,” she said. “The tutor that’s been coming has been better than going to actual school.” She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I keep telling Mom that I don’t want to go back when my leg is healed.”

‘Please, God, let her stay homeschooled,’ I thought, wondering if that would improve things with Monica. Monica had been gone again – for over a month this time – and I couldn’t shake the feeling that Andrea knew something about her disappearance.

Thankfully, Steven came rushing into the room just as Andrea was about to ask me something else. When he saw me, he raised his eyebrows.

“Hey,” Steven said shortly. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” I lied. “I was hoping we could go somewhere, you know, maybe just for a drive.”

Steven looked uncomfortable. “I really shouldn’t leave right now,” he said. He glanced over his shoulder at Andrea. “Mom’s going out to the store.”

Andrea gave me a martyr-like smile. “Steven takes such good care of me,” she said. “Steven, would you mind bringing me a glass of water?”

“Can I have one, too?” I interjected.

“Sure,” Steven said. He darted into the kitchen and came back a few seconds later, holding a glass of ice water. He held it out to Andrea in a very tender way, almost like he was afraid she would break. “Here you go,” Steven said. “Tell me if there’s too much ice in that for you.”

I frowned. “Can I have one, too?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steven said. He jerked his head toward the kitchen. “Glasses are in the second cabinet to the left of the fridge.”

I frowned. Steven and Andrea talked in hushed voices while I was in the kitchen. I knew it was wrong to feel so irritated, but I couldn’t help it – why was he waiting on her like this? Couldn’t she sit on the couch for forty-five fucking minutes while their mom went to the store?

When I came back, Andrea was laughing and Steven looked guilty. He reached behind Andrea and fluffed the couch pillows.

“You want a blanket or anything?”

Andrea shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Heating pad?” Steven suggested. “You cold?”

“I’m fine,” Andrea repeated.

“What about a snack?”

Andrea giggled. “No, thanks,” she said.

I resisted the urge to groan. “Hey, Steven, can I talk to you for a second?”

Steven grinned and turned toward me. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

I swallowed uncomfortably. “I mean, in the kitchen. You know, just a few minutes of privacy.”
Steven threw Andrea a nervous look. “I don’t know,” he said. “I really hate to leave her alone.”

“She’ll be fine for two minutes,” I said, my voice edged with exasperation.

“Of course, I will,” Andrea said sweetly. She gave Steven a diabolical smile. “Go on, Steven. I’ll be right here.” She laughed again. “I mean, it’s not like I can get up.”

Steven looked genuinely irritated as he followed me into the kitchen.

“What?” Steven asked plainly. “What is so important that you can’t talk to me about it in front of my sister?”

I frowned. “It’s not that,” I said quickly. “It’s just…oh, I don’t know. Some dream I had, about Monica. I’m really worried about her, and what’s happening.”

Steven narrowed his eyes. “Monica is the reason my sister got hurt,” he said defensively. “I don’t really wanna talk about her right now.”

I sighed. “It’s not about that,” I said quickly. “And your sister’s going to be fine,” I added. “She broke her leg. People break their legs. It happens sometimes.”

Steven glared. “What are you saying, exactly?”

I stared at him. ‘I’m saying that I think you have a weird relationship,’ I thought angrily in my head. ‘I’m saying that I still haven’t forgotten that stupid, creepy photo that Andrea texted you!’

I shrugged, feeling lame. “I…I don’t know. I mean, you don’t really have to wait on her all the time, Steven. She’ll be fine.”

Steven shook his head. “I don’t believe you,” he snarled. “I thought you were supportive, Elizabeth. You’re being so selfish right now. I don’t understand. What the heck has gotten into you?”

Tears stung my eyes. I slammed my glass of water down on the counter and turned on my heels, stalking out of the D’Amicos’ house. Just before I shut the door behind me, I heard Andrea calling out in confusion.

‘Fuck you,’ I thought as I stormed back toward my house. ‘I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’m onto you, Andrea, and I’m not gonna let you get away with this.’

---

When I got home, I was shocked to see my parents in the kitchen. Normally, they didn’t get home for hours after work.

“Hey,” I said nervously. “What’s going on?” For a moment, I was terrified that Mom was going to tell me she’d heard from the D’Amicos.

Instead, Mom shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “Your father called me and told me about this…I don’t know. What was it, sweetie?”

My dad cleared his throat. “There’s a town meeting tonight,” he said. “Downtown, at the church.”

I wrinkled my nose. “A town meeting about what?”

“We don’t know, exactly,” Dad said. “We thought you might know. Did something happen at school?”

I shook my head. “I hope not,” I said quickly. “Do you know who’s holding it?”

Dad picked up his phone and scrolled through, looking for something. “The D’Amicos,” he said. “That makes sense. I guess it is their church and all.”

I frowned. “And it doesn’t say anything else?”

Dad shook his head. “No,” he said. “Do you want to go? I can drop you off.”

I sighed. “Not really,” I admitted. “But I kind of think I should. Things have been really weird around here lately.”

Dad nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Come on.”

Dad and I were silent in the car as he drove toward the church. A sense of dread was building up inside of me, and I felt unable to shake it, unable to do anything other than merely sit there and digest everything as it happened.

Dad pulled in front of the church and set the car to park. “Are you okay going in there?”

I frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be? What’s wrong?”

Dad sighed. “I don’t know,” he said. “Just call when you’re ready to come home, and I’ll pick you up, okay?”

I nodded. As I climbed out of the car and walked into the nave of the church, my feeling of dread grew. Soon, I felt numb and shaky and chilled to the bone.

Inside, the church was packed. The pews were filled with all kinds of people from all over town. There was only one family noticeably absent: the Boers.

Andrea was standing behind the pulpit, resting her hands on her crutches. She didn’t look pained or even uncomfortable. She looked joyous, radiant – happier than I’d seen her in years.

“I called this meeting to talk about the state of our town,” Andrea said. Her thin voice carried over the microphone and filled the church.

There was a smattering of applause. As quickly as I could, I slipped into a pew at the back, scooting toward the edge.

“There is evil in our town,” Andrea said. Her voice sounded odd – almost like she was proud of what was happening in Jaffrey.

“Amen!”

“Amen!”

There was a loud, scattered cheering from the audience. Listening to the cheers made the blood in my veins turn to ice.

“There is evil here,” Andrea repeated. She leaned in close and scanned the crowd, turning her face slowly from side to side. There was an odd gleam in her eyes – a gleam that made her appear much older than her childlike face.

“Banish the evil,” someone shouted loudly. “Let us live in peace!”

Andrea sniffed. “There are witches here,” she said softly into the microphone. “There are witches here, tonight, in this town!”

A loud jeering sounded from the audience, and I shivered. Surely, someone was going to stand up and call her out for being so crazy, right? At any moment, I half expected Monica to burst through the doors, yelling about how all of this was complete bullshit.

Instead, to my horror, a group of people stood up and cheered. “Destroy the witches! Burn them! Banish them from our town!”

“We must embrace God,” Andrea thundered into the mic. “We must turn our faces from the evil and back toward the light, back toward the goodness!”

I glanced up and almost gasped when I saw Steven sitting just a few feet behind Andrea at the altar. He shifted and looked vaguely uncomfortable, but nowhere near as uncomfortable as I felt. For the first time, I wondered what exactly it was about Steven that had drawn me in.

“We must fight the evil!” Andrea yelled, her voice rising to a frantic pitch. “We must banish the witches!”

“Kill the witches! Kill the witches!”

Now, the congregation was stomping, clapping, and thumping their hands against the wooden backs of the pews. Sucking in a deep breath, I stood up and raced out of the church.

It was freezing outside, but the chill of the air felt like nothing after being inside that church and listening to Andrea rant like a crazy person. The worst part was, why was everyone humoring her? This was the twenty-first century…what the fuck was going on?

Chapter Six

Monica

As soon as I figured out that Henrik had been manipulating my parents, I packed a bag and ran into the woods. Henrik and Ligeia had told me that whenever I needed the coven, all I had to do was think about them and their energy. But this time, it wasn’t proving so simple. I wandered for hours before I smelled the familiar, tangy scent of the herbs and rushes used by the witches.

Henrik didn’t seem surprised to see me. He was sitting in front of the hearth, poking at something in a large cauldron. It smelled delicious, but I made a vow not to eat or drink anything offered to me by the coven. I was done with them, and I wasn’t going to let myself get sucked back into their ways.

“I know why you are here,” Henrik said. He didn’t glance up from the cauldron, but merely reached closer to stir it.

“Good,” I said. “That means we can get this over with. I’m done.”

Henrik chuckled under his breath. “This is not that simple, Monica. You have obligations. You cannot escape as easily as you think.”

I groaned. “I don’t give a shit,” I said honestly. “I’m never coming back here again. This is too crazy. It’s changing too many things in my life.”

Henrik finally turned to face me, raising one eyebrow. In the light of the fire, he almost looked young.

“You think that we are to blame for all of the upsets in life?” Henrik chuckled.

“Yeah,” I said. I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling foolish. “I do. Ever since the first time you kidnapped me, things have been completely crazy, and I’m sick of it! I want things to go back to normal.” Tears came to my eyes, and I sniffled. “My parents don’t even care about me because of your stupid spell! They don’t even care when I’m gone for weeks at a time!”

Henrik narrowed his eyes. “It isn’t fair to pin that on me, Monica,” he said calmly. “Your parents have always been like that. I was only able to sway them with the power of suggestion. Nothing more, nothing less.”

I felt like someone had punched me in the gut, but I didn’t dare react.

“It’s true, Monica,” Henrik said. “I wouldn’t be able to change them completely. I’m not that powerful.”

My shoulders sagged, and I closed my eyes, sighing heavily. “I don’t care,” I whispered hotly. “I’m not doing this anymore. I just want my regular life back.”

“You’ve never had a normal life,” Henrik said coldly. “You’ve been destined for this for hundreds of years, Monica. You are the true heir to the coven, and nothing will change that. No amount of anger on your part will reduce your role.”

I glared at him. “I hate this,” I mumbled. “I’m going home, and I’m never coming back here ever again. And if you try to make me, well, fine. Then I guess you might as well kill me.” I grabbed Henrik’s athame from the table and held the blade to my neck. The tip was so sharp I didn’t even feel it slice my skin, but seconds later, warm blood was pooling around my collarbone.

“Go ahead and try,” Henrik said. He shrugged. “You can’t kill yourself, Monica. You’re immortal.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s fucking insane,” I snapped. I gritted my teeth, pressing the knife harder into my skin. No matter how hard I pushed, the blade wouldn’t budge. Groaning in exasperation, I threw the athame to the floor.

“I know you are weary,” Henrik said. “That will not change. But I promise, you will learn to cope better with these stresses.”

“I’m not doing this anymore,” I said. But I could already feel my resolve weakening. I glared at Henrik. ‘Damn you,’ I thought. ‘You may be able to manipulate my parents, but you can’t manipulate me!’

Henrik’s lips curled into a faint smile. “You are correct,” he said slowly. “I cannot manipulate you. I can only make you see what will happen when you refuse to obey your destiny.”

I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Henrik used an iron poker to lift the cauldron from the fire before setting it down on the stone hearth.

“Come here, child.” Henrik beckoned toward the fire. I swallowed a lump in my throat and walked closer until I could feel the heat of the flames burning my face. Henrik gave me a stern look, then reached into his pockets and tossed a handful of herbs onto the flames. Purple clouds of smoke billowed through the room, stinging my eyes, and I coughed until I felt like I’d spit up my lungs.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw modern-day Jaffrey. There were cars and people walking with cell phones on the streets I recognized. I gasped as the scene shifted to the inside of a church. Andrea’s petite figure was standing at the pulpit, glaring angrily and screaming. I couldn’t make out the words – everything was hazy – but the congregation was going crazy for whatever she was saying. Everyone was screaming and cheering and fervently clapping their hands.

Andrea smiled wickedly. “Go forth,” she called loudly. “Go forth and do what you must!”

Everyone stormed out of the church. I gasped when I saw they were carrying flashlights and weapons – guns, knives, and even a few crossbows. The view shifted to the road outside of my parents’ home. Everyone was screaming and running down the road, waving their guns in the air.

“No!” I cried loudly. The scene shifted to my kitchen. Jamie and Brian were sitting at the table, their mouths moving. My ears were filled with the sounds of glass shattering, of guns being fired.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I covered my eyes, holding my hands tightly to my face. “No!” I cried out again. “I won’t watch this!”

Henrik clapped his hands. The smell of smoke stung my throat and eyes once more, but the sounds died down. When I could hear nothing but the roaring flames, I slowly pulled my hands away.

“What … what was that?” I asked in a choked whisper. “What’s going on?”

Henrik looked at me very seriously. “That is what will happen if you don’t pledge your loyalty to the coven.”

I shook my head. “No,” I said quickly. “No. There’s no way that’s gonna happen!” I squinted. “Are you crazy? This isn’t the seventeenth century anymore! Things like that don’t happen!”

Ligeia stepped out of the shadows, and I gasped.

“Why do you always have to do that?” I grumbled. “Would it kill you not to surprise me once in a while?”

Ligeia raised her eyebrows. “It isn’t intentional,” she said dryly. “Perhaps you should learn to pay more attention to your surroundings, Monica.” She shook her head sadly. “I am beginning to think that extra time you spent with us was wasted. You have not learned a single thing.”

“That’s not fair,” I shot back. “Everything is going fucking crazy at home. What I am supposed to do?”

Ligeia narrowed her eyes. “You must do as Henrik says,” she said calmly. “You must pledge your life to the coven. You must devote yourself to helping us rid the true evil of the world.”

I swallowed. “You know, you sound just like Andrea,” I muttered.

Ligeia’s nostrils flared in anger. “I resent that comment,” she said icily. “I do not understand the problem, Monica. What is your hesitation? From where does it come?”

“Does it matter?” I tangled my hands in my hair and yanked until my scalp ached.

“Yes,” Ligeia and Henrik spoke in unison.

“I just want things to go back to normal,” I said. “I don’t care what has to happen.”

“Henrik has shown you what will happen if you do not help us,” Ligeia said. “Monica, we are not trying to punish you. But you are strong, and if we survive, it will be because of you.”

“That’s a heavy thing to lay on me,” I grumbled. “Why me, huh? Why not anyone else?”

“I think you know the answer,” Henrik said gently. “You have always been known as something of a prodigy, have you not?”

“It’s not about that,” I insisted. I sighed and flopped down on a rock. “Look, I know how it sounds. I know I’m coming across as selfish. And I don’t mean to, really, but I can’t just give up my life for something I never even knew existed until now.”

Ligeia gave me a sad smile. “You are lucky to live in an age where you have the luxury of such options,” she said. “Had you been born in another other time, you would have no choice.”

I blinked. I knew she was right, but I didn’t want to admit it.

“Besides, people do the same thing all the time.” Henrik raised an eyebrow. “How many people say they will never marry, until they fall in love? Suddenly, it becomes the most important thing in their life – one of the only things they care about.”

“That’s different–”

“It’s not that different,” Henrik said. “Or how about those who feel a sudden calling? What about human urges, Monica? You dismiss those so easily.”

“I didn’t choose this,” I argued. “No one asked me whether or not I wanted to become a witch, okay?! You just fucking kidnapped me, and now here I am.”

“Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve found the coven on your own?” Ligeia asked quietly.

“Yeah, but–”

“No one but a true daughter of the coven could have done that,” Ligeia said. She and Henrik exchanged a glance. “And that proves your abilities.”

I swallowed. I felt helpless.

“You must pledge to join with us for all eternity,” Ligeia said. “If you do not, your immortality will be lost. You, and everyone you know and care for will be slaughtered like sheep.”

I sighed. Why did I suddenly feel as though I had no choice in the matter of my own destiny?

Chapter Seven

Elizabeth

After that night at the D’Amicos’ church, everything changed. I’d barely woken up the next morning when Mom came into my room and closed the door behind her. Her eyes were grave.

“Elizabeth, we need to talk.”

‘Shit,’ I thought. ‘Someone must’ve told her about that party.’

But if only it had been that innocent.

“What’s wrong?” I tried to keep my voice cheerful, but my heart was sinking with every passing nanosecond.

Mom sighed. “You’re a good kid, you know that?”

I narrowed my eyes. “That’s…that’s why you came to talk to me?”

Mom shook her head. “No,” she said softly. “Not exactly.” She sighed, running a hand through her long hair. “Elizabeth, I know this isn’t fair to you. You’re just a kid; you don’t really deserve any of this.”

“Mom, you’re gonna make me have a heart attack,” I said. “Just spit it out, okay?”

My mom looked almost relieved as she cleared her throat. “The Jaffrey police put out a bulletin. There’s a seven-thirty curfew for all people under eighteen.”

My stomach twisted into a knot. “What?” I wrinkled my nose and frowned. “That’s…crazy. That’s stupid. Did some kid get busted for something?”

My mom shifted on my bed. “I don’t know, sweetie,” she said. “It came this morning with the paper.” She handed me a canary-yellow printout. It looked like a joke, like the kind of thing a kid would’ve created. But the words chilled me to the bone.

“As of December twenty-second, all juvenile residents of Jaffrey must observe the local curfew. All persons under eighteen years must be at home, with their parents or guardians, before seven-thirty in the evening. This curfew is in effect seven days a week until further notice. Violators will be punished to the fullest extent of the law.”

I shuddered. “Mom, this is so creepy,” I said softly. “Why are they doing this?”

My mom shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “Your father…well, I don’t know,” she added.

“What? Dad thinks what?”

Mom shrugged. “Your father thinks that maybe someone went missing,” she said. She dropped her gaze. “You know, honey, like what happened to Monica?”

I sighed. “Okay,” I said softly. “Thanks for letting me know.”

---

It was the last day of school before winter break. Everyone was buzzing about the curfew memo. I tried listen in whenever I could, but the other kids’ ideas were way more implausible than anything my mom or dad had suggested. One kid thought it was aliens. Another actually suggested an invasion of killer bees.

I was standing in the cafeteria, listening to bits of conversations around me, when Steven sat down next to me. I cried out in surprise and jumped. Steven grinned. I blushed.

“Sorry,” Steven said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

I nodded. “Look, do you know anything about this?”

Steven shrugged. “No,” he said. But there was something in his voice that made me wonder.

“Are you sure?” I narrowed my eyes. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear. This is all just really weird, Steven.”

Steven nodded. “Yeah,” he said, in the same distant, far-away voice. “Look, you busy tonight? You wanna go for a drive or something?”

I narrowed my eyes. “What about the curfew?”

Steven shrugged. “I’ll get you home by seven-thirty,” he said. He grinned, looking for a moment like the old, irresistible Steven. “I swear.”

I felt my resolve melting like a puddle of wax inside my chest. “Okay,” I said. My heart thudded. “That sounds good.”

Steven grinned. “Good,” he said. “I’ll pick you up after my family has dinner – say five-thirty or so?”

I nodded. “Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”

Steven cuffed me lightly on the shoulder before getting up and strolling over to his football buddies. I couldn’t stop thinking about Andrea and Monica and Steven and the curfew for the rest of the day. My thoughts were swimming around my head like sharks in a goldfish pond – too big and dangerous for the atmosphere.

When I got home, I ate a quick meal of soup and a grilled cheese. As I waited for Steven, I did my homework. By the time he pulled up in my driveway, I was so restless that I practically sprinted out to the car.

“So, where do you wanna go?”

I buckled myself in. “Anywhere,” I said. “I don’t care. Just as long as it’s not in Jaffrey.”

In the end, Steven drove out to the lake. I thought he would want to park and make out, but instead he kept one hand on the gear shift and stared straight out the window. We talked a little, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of nervousness that was creeping over me like the chill outside.

“This is all just really weird,” I said. Part of me was dying to ask him about the church thing from the other night and what the hell Andrea was playing at.

“Yeah,” Steven said. He sounded distant again, and I sighed. “It’s all strange.”

“What are you doing over break?” I shifted in the seat. “Going anywhere for Christmas?”

Steven cracked a smile. “No,” he said. “Not after last year when we got stuck in Maine at my grandmother’s place. My mom wants to stay home.” He swallowed.

“Me, too,” I said.

We fell into silence.

“Oh, shit,” Steven said quickly. “It’s already twenty past. We should get going.”

The car didn’t start at first, and by the time the engine rolled over, it was past seven-thirty. Steven and I drove through Jaffrey; it was a total ghost town.

“You can just park at home,” I said. “I’ll take the shortcut through the woods.”

“You’ll get there faster if I drop you off,” Steven said.

“Yeah, but your parents are home. I don’t think mine are,” I said. My stomach twisted. “I’ll walk. Don’t worry about me.”

“Elizabeth, it’s freezing outside!”

Anxiety swelled in my chest like a balloon, and I shook my head, suddenly wanting to be as far away from Steven as possible.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said quickly. “I’ll be fine. Just let me hop out now.”

Reluctantly, Steven reached across me and unlocked the passenger door. His sleeve brushed my chest, and for a moment, I thought he’d kiss me. Instead, he gave me a half-smile.

“See you after break,” Steven said. “Have a good holiday, Elizabeth.”

“You, too.”

We stared at each other, and again, I thought he was going to kiss me. Finally, I blushed and nodded, ducking out of Steven’s car and into the cold.

I regretted walking almost as soon as Steven pulled away. The arctic wind chapped my lips and face, and I shivered, tucking my hands into my pockets. It had started to snow, and I walked as quickly as I could, my boots slipping and sliding on the icy pavement.

When I heard a car pull up behind me, I grinned. ‘I knew he’d come back and get me,’ I thought as I turned around, waving to Steven. ‘He’s too much of a gentleman to just let me walk home in the cold.’

But it wasn’t Steven.

It was a Jaffrey deputy.

My heart sank as the siren flared cherry and blue-raspberry on top of the squad car. The driver’s side door flung open, and a male deputy stepped out.

“Elizabeth Hartsell?”

I nodded and squeaked a ‘yes.’

“You’re to come downtown, with me,” the deputy said in a deep voice. “You’re in violation of the Jaffrey curfew.”

“I was almost home,” I protested. “I live right on this block!”

“Now.” The deputy’s voice was stern and unwelcoming. “Don’t make me cuff you, Elizabeth.”

Shivering, I walked over to the car. The deputy opened the backseat for me and guided my head into the car. As the car drove silently through the snowy streets, I felt more ashamed and embarrassed than I ever had in my entire life. I couldn’t help but feel angry with Steven. I knew he hadn’t done this on purpose, but if only he’d insisted on driving me!

Then I felt a pang of guilt, remembering how quickly I’d wanted to get away from him.

By the time the squad car pulled up at Jaffrey Police Station, I was a nervous wreck.

“What’s going to happen?” I asked the cop nervously. “Are you going to call my parents?”
The cop didn’t reply. He parked the car and got out, leaving me in the backseat. I tried the door – obviously, it wouldn’t budge – and watched with a sinking feeling as the cop strolled inside the police department. By the time he came back outside to get me, I was shivering and my teeth were chattering with cold.

“Come on,” the cop said. He opened the backseat door. “Come with me.”

I’d barely stepped onto the ground when the cop took my wrists and gently forced them behind my back. I cried out when I realized what he was doing, but not before he placed plastic cuffs on my wrists and fastened them together.

“You really don’t need to do that,” I said quickly. “I’m not going to hurt anyone.”

I’d meant it almost as a joke but the cop didn’t laugh. He hustled me along the snowy walkway and into the puce-colored police station. The florescent lights overhead were harsh and bright, and I squinted in pain as the cop moved me down the hall and into an isolated room with a table and one chair.

“Wait here,” the cop said.

“Wait,” I said quickly. “Don’t go.”

The cop turned around and put his hands on his hips. “What?”

I licked my dry lips. “Can I please call my parents? And can I please have some water?”

The cop shrugged. Then he left, banging the door closed behind him.

It wasn’t until I’d been alone for half an hour that the panic began to set in. My hands had long since gone numb from the tight plastic cuffs, and I’d given up on trying to massage them back to life. I was freezing cold – the room apparently wasn’t heated – and I could see my breath hanging in front of me in clouds of white steam every time I exhaled. Obviously, I couldn’t look at my watch, but judging from the elapsed time, I figured it had to be after eight, or maybe even close to nine.

Awhile later, another cop came inside the room and looked at me. He was holding a clipboard and a pen, and a strong sense of relief washed over me. ‘He’s going to write me up and then let me go home, I realized. Thank god someone finally came to their senses around here!’

“You’re Elizabeth Hartsell, right?”

“Yes.” I licked my lips. By now, they were so dry that they’d cracked and begun to bleed.

“Age?”

“I’m fifteen,” I said quietly.

“Feel like telling me what you were doing out so late?”

“I was walking home,” I said. “I’d just been with a friend.”

“Who?”

My stomach churned. “Why do you need to know that, exactly?”

The cop glared at me. “I’m not here because I want to be,” he snapped. “I’m doing my fucking job. Now answer me. Who were you with?”

My heart began to pulse nervously inside my chest and I shivered.

“Steven D’Amico,” I said softly.

The cop scribbled something down on the pad. “Okay,” he said. “That’s all.”

“Can I call my parents?” I begged. “Please, just let me call home. And may I please use the bathroom?”

The cop left the room, slamming the door behind him like he hadn’t even heard me.

With a wail of frustration and pain, I sank down against the cinder-block wall and slid down until I was sitting on the cold floor. My hands and wrists were killing me, and my shoulders were starting to throb as well. Worse, there was a gnawing ache in my lower belly. I really had to pee, and there was nothing even resembling a toilet in the room. My stomach was twisted and cramped, and my throat was so dry it felt like I’d been drinking sawdust.

I had no way of telling the time, but the hours slowly began to pass. I could tell from the voices. After I’d been locked in the room for a few hours, it grew quiet and the lights dimmed. Then, the voices outside changed. I shivered bitterly. ‘I bet they changed staff,’ I thought. ‘It has to be the middle of the night by now.’
Eventually, I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was in so much pain that I could barely move. I could feel the plastic cuffs pinching a tendon in my wrists, and by now, I was so scared and hurt that I started to cry.

Crying wasn’t a good decision. Soon, tears and snot were dripping from my face, all down the front of my jacket. I’d pissed myself in my sleep, and I felt embarrassed and ashamed to be sitting there in my own waste, smelling like sweat and ammonia.

When the door opened again, I almost started sobbing. A deputy – different than the one who’d taken me in – walked over and gave me a disgusted look.

“You have someone here for you,” he said mechanically, roughly hauling me to my feet. I cried out in pain but he didn’t stop. When I heard scissors slicing the plastic cuffs from my wrist, I gasped with relief.

“Out there,” the deputy said.

Rubbing my hands, I ran into the hallway, expecting to see my parents. Instead, Monica was standing there. She looked at me with a worried expression, then turned back to the hefty man behind the desk.

“I’ll be taking Elizabeth now,” Monica said. “She’s coming with me.”

The cop had an odd, glazed look in his eyes. “Elizabeth…” He trailed off. “Who is that, exactly?”

I narrowed my eyes at Monica. Something very odd was going on.

“The girl that was picked up last night for violating curfew,” Monica said. “She’s coming with me, I’m taking her home.”

“You’re taking her home,” the cop repeated.

“Yeah,” Monica said. “Write it down.”

“Are you a parent or a guardian?” The cop’s voice was stilted, strained.

“No,” Monica said. “Just trust me.” She smiled and the cop seemed to melt. I frowned. This wasn’t like Monica at all. In the past, she’d made fun of girls who got what they wanted from flirting. Still, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with relief. At least someone cared enough about me to rescue me from spending another twelve hours in the police station.

After a few more questions, the cop turned to me and blinked. “You were here all night?”

I nodded, trying not to look angry. I held up my hands, pushing my sleeves away and showing the angry red marks around my wrists.

“I was cuffed and alone in that room down the hall,” I said unsteadily. “Only two people came to check on me, and I wasn’t offered water or a phone call.”

The cop frowned. “That does not sound good,” he said slowly, in a plodding sort of way.

Monica grabbed my arm. “Come on,” she said. “We gotta hurry. I’m taking you home.”

Outside, the sun was shining, and the weather felt warmer than it had in weeks.

“What the hell was that?” I demanded as soon as we were away from the police station. “How did you do that? They ignored me all night,” I said, showing Monica my wrists again. She cringed at the sight of the bruises.

“Don’t worry about it,” Monica said darkly. “Let’s just get you home and fed, okay?”

“No,” I said. “You’re telling me what the hell happened.” I crossed my arms. “Those cops acted like you were their boss or something! How did you do that?”

Monica rolled her eyes and kept walking. “Just lucky, I guess.”

“No,” I said, more forcefully this time. I grabbed Monica’s arm. “Monica, tell me: how did you get me out of there?”

Monica sighed. “If I tell you, you won’t believe me,” she said coolly. “Just forget about it, Elizabeth.”

“I can’t,” I said. Monica kept walking, and I groaned. “You’re my best friend,” I said quickly. “Come on, trust me. Just a little. Just tell me, okay?”

“Fine.” Monica turned to me and smirked. “I manipulated them.”

“Well, obviously!” I rolled my eyes. “But how? How did you do it?”

“With my powers.” Monica stared sincerely into my eyes. “I’m a witch, Elizabeth. And I used my magic to help free you.”

I blinked.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Monica said unsteadily. “I don’t wanna get into this with you, not now.”

A cold chill ran down my spine, and I shuddered.

“I know,” I said nervously. “But look, just tell me. One more time.”

“I’m a witch,” Monica said softly.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I said quickly. “But if you really, truly are a witch…Monica, we really need your help.” I grabbed her hand in mine, ignoring the pain shooting up and down my wrist.

“What?” Monica narrowed her eyes. “Who’s ‘we?’”

“The town,” I said quickly. “Monica, the whole town is collectively losing its mind, and you’ve got to help me. We’ve got to do something before everyone goes completely mad.”

Monica’s shoulders sagged. “I can’t,” she said softly.

“What? Why not?” I glared at her. “Come on!”

“Because,” Monica said softly. “I’m not strong enough.”

Chapter Eight

Monica walked me home. We made no mention of the fact that I’d pissed myself, or that the cops had held me illegally for over twelve hours. In truth, it wasn’t so much because I was embarrassed, but because I didn’t want to believe something like that had actually happened. It was horrifying to think about. I’d spent my whole life in this sleepy little town, and it seemed impossible to believe that things were changing so quickly – and so much for the worse – right before my eyes.

I felt powerless. I felt helpless. And I felt terrified, even more so than I’d been when Monica had first disappeared and basically all of the adults refused to believe me when I said something sinister was going on.

At my front stoop, Monica hugged me.

“Promise me you’re not going away again,” I said. “Promise me. I couldn’t handle that, not after everything that’s happened.”

Monica gave me a weak smile. “I wish,” she said. She sighed heavily. “The truth is, Elizabeth, most of the time, I can’t control it.” Her brown eyes filled with tears, and she blinked them away, tilting her sharp chin to the cloudy sky. “The first few times I disappeared…well, it wasn’t because I went looking for them, you know?”

My heart sank. I nodded. “Yeah,” I said softly. “I get it.”

“But I’ll try,” Monica said fiercely. “Besides,” she added, “you’d still be in jail if it wasn’t for me.” She shuddered, apparently even more disturbed by that thought than I was. “I can’t disappear only for you to skip curfew again.”

I shivered. “No,” I echoed, “you can’t.”

“What happened, anyway?”

I sighed. “I was with Steven. We drove out to the lake, and then his stupid car wouldn’t start, and by the time we got back, it was already past seven-thirty. I told him to let me out so I could walk. I figured his parents would care way more about the curfew than mine.”

Monica wrinkled her nose. “So, things are going okay between two of you?”

For a moment, I almost caved. I almost told her how irritated I’d felt with him recently, especially after what had happened the last time I’d been at his house. I almost told her about how he waited on Andrea hand and foot, like some kind of weird, obsessed servant.

But when I looked at my best friend, I realized how stressed she was. Her pale face was more gaunt than usual, and there were dark circles under her round, brown eyes. She was glancing at me with a glimmer of hope.

“Yeah,” I said finally. “Things are okay between us.”

Monica gave me a hug, and I trudged inside, more conscious of my body odor than ever before. I’d hoped to slink up quietly to my room, but Mom was standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips. The angry look on her face sent chills down my spine.

“Elizabeth, do you mind telling me where the hell you’ve been?” Mom’s face was streaked with dried tears, and she looked awful.

I started to shake. “A cop picked me up last night,” I said unsteadily. “I was walking home after meeting Steven, and it was just after seven-thirty.”

My mom glared at me. “You expect me to believe that? Really, Elizabeth,” she said, throwing her arms in the air. “I’m starting to think that Monica is a bad influence on you!”

I narrowed my eyes. “What the heck does she have to do with anything?”

Mom rolled her eyes. “You know, Elizabeth. She’s so free spirited! She just runs off everywhere, and her parents don’t even care.” Before I could refute Mom’s claims, she wagged a finger at me. “And don’t think for a second that just because you’re turning sixteen soon you’re going to get away with the same behavior!”

“Mom, it really wasn’t like that,” I said quickly. “Call downtown. They have a record of keeping me.”

My mom sighed heavily. “You really got in deep, huh?”

I frowned. “I’m not lying. This cop – some deputy, I don’t remember his name – pulled me off the street and took me downtown.” I held out my arms and pulled my sleeves up, showing my raw, bruised wrists. “They put plastic cuffs on me and kept my arms behind my back. Then they put me in this room. I was in there, alone, with no food or water or anything, for, like, twelve hours!”

My mom frowned. She came forward, gingerly pressing her fingers against my wounded wrists. The anger on her face faded, and she stepped away, grabbing the kitchen phone and holding it tightly against her ear.

I waited in silence as Mom called the police department.

“Hello, I need to speak to whomever has your log book for the past few days,” Mom said. “This is very urgent.”

My stomach sank, and I slumped down into a kitchen chair. When Monica had first rescued me, I’d been starving. But now I felt nauseous again, sick with fear and worry. It was crazy. I knew that I wasn’t lying; I knew that I’d been at the police station all night and some of the morning. But I still expected them to lie to my mother. I still expected her to hang up and punish me, ground me for some transgression I didn’t even commit.

My mom was white in the face when she hung up the phone.

“Elizabeth, there has to be something else wrong here,” she said sternly. “You can tell me. They didn’t provide much information.”

I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I swear, I was just walking in the snow, and they picked me up.”

My mom’s shoulders sagged. Fresh tears glinted in her eyes, and she shook her head.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Mom said slowly, “but try and stay out of trouble, okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.” I swallowed and bobbed my head again, once more, for emphasis.

Aidan came downstairs, clutching his backpack. When he saw me, his eyes got wide.

“Holy crap you were gone all night!”

“Yeah,” I said miserably. “I was at the police station all night. They picked me up because I missed curfew.”

Aidan’s eyes got even wider. “Whoa,” he said. “Cool!”

“No,” I said sharply, pushing past him and running up the stairs. “Definitely not cool.”

---

I was gladder than anything that school was out for winter break. Aidan was at some kind of all-day sports clinic, and obviously, Mom and Dad had to work. I was grateful for the time alone. Besides, I was in no mood to go sit for eight hours and listen to teachers drone on about things that mattered significantly less than real life. I know it sounds dramatic – all teenagers think their personal shit is more important than learning about the French Revolution and laissez faire economics. But right now, I couldn’t think of a single thing more important than saving the town I’d grown up in from absolute madness.

After a long shower, I spent the day in bed, napping fitfully. I kept waking up hot and sweaty, twisted in my sheets. My wrists still throbbed, and I wondered if, at this point, the pain was purely imagined.

Thankfully, at least, I didn’t dream. When I woke up for the last time, it was after four. The house was still silent, and I yawned and stretched before reaching for my phone and texting Monica. Honestly, I was surprised to hear back from her. Despite our conversation this morning, part of me wondered if she was planning to take off again, maybe this time for good.

‘Not that I could blame her,’ I thought darkly as I pressed ‘send.’ ‘I don’t blame her for wanting to get away from here. The whole fucking town has gone insane.’

A loud knocking at the door made me jump. I pulled on my bathrobe and ran downstairs, half expecting to see Steven, or even Monica. When I opened the door and saw an official from the church as well as a cop, I almost screamed.

“Hello,” the cop said. He glanced down at his clipboard. “Are you Elizabeth Hartsell?”

I swallowed in fear. “Yeah,” I said. I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why? What’s going on?”

The cop exchanged a glance with the church official. It wasn’t someone I’d met before, but he looked intimidating in long, white robes with a white collar at his throat.

“You’ve been reported,” the cop said. “By an…Aidan?”

My stomach plummeted to the ground. “Aidan?” I narrowed my eyes in disbelief. “That’s my brother,” I said quickly. “I can’t believe he would’ve done something like that.”

“You’ve been reported for having inappropriate relations,” the church official said. He leered at me, leaning in close. “And we need to speak with your parents.”

“They’re not home,” I said quickly. My mind was racing, and my palms were sweating. If they tried to take me back to jail, I had no idea what to do. Mom wouldn’t be home for hours, and if Aidan really had reported me, I couldn’t trust anyone in my own family.

“May we wait for them?”

“No,” I said quickly. I slammed the door in their faces. “Go away!” I yelled loudly.

I locked the door and pushed the deadbolt through the bar before running into the kitchen and making sure all of the windows were latched. Thankfully, every room in the house was secured. But now that fear had struck again, I couldn’t calm down. I was sweating and panicking, and my heart was blipping fast in my chest, as if I’d just run a long marathon.

I shuddered. I could still hear the cop and the church guy talking outside the door in low tones. When I pressed my ear to the door, I couldn’t hear anything above murmurs. ‘Go away,’ I begged silently. ‘Please, just leave me alone and forget all about me!’

After what felt like an eternity, I heard footsteps fading away. Sickened with relief, I slunk into the kitchen and sat at the table, staring dully at my phone. Angry, confused thoughts were swirling around in my head. Why had Aidan, my own brother, reported me to the cops? And for what? I hadn’t done anything wrong. If anything, they were the ones who owed me an explanation.

The sound of another knock at the door made me jump out of my skin, and for a moment, I wanted to run upstairs and throw myself into bed.

“Elizabeth, it’s me,” Monica called loudly. She knocked again, her tiny fist gently pounding on the door. “Come on, let me in!”

I raced up from the chair and sped into the foyer, unlocked the door, and pulled Monica inside. When she looked at me, her brown eyes went wide with alarm.

“What happened to you?” Monica asked quickly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something!”

I shuddered. “Another cop came by with someone from the church,” I said quickly. “He said that Aidan reported me…I don’t know! Some shit about ‘inappropriate relations!’ Do you even know what that means?”

Monica wrinkled her nose. “It means sex,” she said bluntly. “I bet he got an incentive to do that.”

Now it was my turn to stare in disbelief. “What? What the hell does that even mean?”

Monica sighed. She walked into the living room and flopped down in my dad’s armchair. She was so light that even when she leaned against the back, the foot rest didn’t pop up.

“I heard something about the younger kids getting bribes if they ratted people out for bad behavior,” Monica said. She grimaced. “It’s like Nazi Germany or something.”

I shivered. “Yeah,” I said slowly. “This is unbelievable.”

Monica nodded. We fell into silence. For a few moments, the only thing I could hear was the blood pounding in my ears.

“I wish I could do something to help,” I said softly. “Like, maybe I could…” I bit my lip, feeling incredulous. In the span of just a few days, I’d gone from hardcore skeptic to someone who actually believed in witches.

Monica raised an eyebrow. “Don a cape and save the world?”

I snickered. “No,” I said. Unfortunately, she’d hit closer to the truth than I was really willing to acknowledge.

“Then what?” Monica turned to me.

“I don’t know,” I said, feeling helpless. I swallowed. “I know it sounds crazy, but…” I trailed off. “I believe you now. I believe all of that stuff about witches and power.” Tears filled my eyes. “I feel insane,” I added softly. “I feel like this is a crazy, stupid dream, and we’re never going to wake up.”

Monica sighed. “I know what you mean,” she said heavily. “If you’d told me about this months ago, I never would have believed you.”

I nodded.

“My parents, you know, they’re being controlled,” Monica said thinly. She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “This witch – well, he’s a warlock actually – is really powerful. He’s been the one controlling them, ever since before I disappeared for the first time.”

My eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

Monica shook her head and gave me a bitter smile. “No,” she said. “I wish.”

“Have you…” I felt ludicrous even saying the words aloud, but I knew I had to ask. “Have you, you know, tried to counter that?”

Monica’s thin shoulders slumped, and she nodded miserably. “Yeah,” she said. “But he’s too strong. He’s much more powerful than I am.”

“How many of you are there?”

Monica bit her lip. “A few,” she said. She counted on her fingers. “Thirteen,” she said finally. “At least, now. Henrik and Ligeia told me that years ago, when people were less skeptical, they had many more members.”

I stared at her. I couldn’t believe she was talking so candidly about this. We were having a cool, collected conversation – almost like we were talking about the news, or the weather.

“What do you have to do to join?”

Monica eyed me. “Don’t, Elizabeth,” she said. “It’s not worth it.”

I frowned. “How can you say that? You’re doing something. You’re actually helping!

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Monica exclaimed. “I had no idea about any of this until a few months ago!”

“Please,” I begged. “Please, talk to them and let me join. Let me help you. I want to help.”

Monica sighed. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”

“Why not?”

“Just because.”

“Come on,” I demanded. “At least give me one reason!”

Monica shook her head. She shut her lips together in a tight, white line. “No,” she said softly. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” I demanded. “Ten minutes before you got here, some cop showed up and he wanted to take me away again! Are you going to let this happen? You can’t just waltz into the police station and save everyone in town!”

Monica looked hurt. “Of course, I’ll always help you,” she said quietly. “You’re my best friend.”

“So, let me help you,” I begged. “Please, Monica, I’ll do anything.”

Monica sighed and shook her head. “No,” she said softly.

“Please?” I stared at my best friend, pleading with my eyes. “Please,” I repeated.

“Stay out of this,” Monica hissed. She glared at me. “I told you, no!”

Chapter Nine

For a week or so, everything was quiet. The holidays came and went with none of their usual cheer. I wasn’t speaking to Aidan, and even though Mom tried to get me to forgive him on more than one occasion (“he’s your brother, honey! He didn’t know any better!”), I wasn’t going to automatically give him a pass.

Kids disappeared for a day, then reappeared with red marks on their wrists and a haunted look in their eyes. I tried talking to Monica a few more times about what it would take for me to join her coven, but she shut me out of the conversation each time. I didn’t understand why she was so angry; I felt almost hurt. When I’d first had the idea, I thought that I’d be helping her out.

After Christmas had passed, my parents took Aidan out of town for the day to see my grandparents down in Boston. Mom asked me if I wanted to come, and for a moment, I almost said yes. ‘Yes, I want to get out of Jaffrey. Yes, I want to get away from here.’ But I had the sinking feeling that as soon as I left, things would get even worse. I didn’t want to come home to watch my town burning.

It was odd. After everything that had happened in Jaffrey, I should’ve hated it here. I should’ve wanted to get away for the rest of my life, however long that may be. But in spite of all the creepy and crazy shit going on around town, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stick it out and survive.

I settled in for a long, lazy day of watching movies and eating popcorn on the couch, but my parents hadn’t even been gone for an hour when my phone buzzed.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” Steven said. “You busy?”

“No.”

“You wanna come over?”

My stomach flip-flopped. “Are you home alone?”

I could practically hear the grin in Steven’s voice. “Yeah,” he said. “Mom and Dad took Andrea out for the day. She’s getting a new cast on her leg, and then they’re going to dinner to celebrate.”

‘Bully for her,’ I thought. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Steven said. “They just left. They’re not gonna be home for hours. You wanna come over and watch a movie?”

I thought about it. Steven had been distant lately. After the whole episode we’d had at his house with Andrea, I wondered if he’d totally lost interest in me. The thing was, I wasn’t actually sure if I wanted to go. I was comfy on the couch, and outside was a cold mess of ice and snow. But I wondered: if I said no, would Steven totally lose interest in me? Was this the kind of thing I was going to have to do if I wanted a boyfriend?

“Okay,” I said, swallowing. “I’ll be over in a little bit. I’m just going to shower and change.”

Upstairs, I took a quick shower, then pulled on a light sweater and jeans. After a second thought, I traded the sweater for a tight-fitting Henley shirt that showed more of my body. I felt ridiculous – it was freezing outside – but I kept it on anyway.

The walk to Steven’s was full of slush and ice, and I slipped multiple times, nearly falling. By the time I got there, I had my jacket unzipped, and I was carrying my hat – walking through the snow is hot work. Steven was standing on the porch, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug.

“I made hot toddies,” Steven said. He grinned. “You want?” He held the steaming mug toward me, and I sniffed cautiously, making a face.

“That smells terrible,” I said.

Steven leaned in close and sniffed my neck. “You smell good, though,” he said. He grinned at me, and I blushed. For a moment, things felt almost normal again. “Come on,” Steven added. “Let’s go in.”

It felt nice – and almost a little strange – to be alone in the D’Amicos house with Steven. Despite her lack of physical presence, Andrea lingered in every room. I shivered as Steven led me into the living room. He sat down in the middle of the couch, and after a moment, I sat next to him.

My heart skipped a beat as Steven wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close.

“I missed you,” Steven said. He nuzzled my neck, and a shiver ran down my spine. “I really like you, Elizabeth.”

I pushed all other thoughts out of my head as Steven lifted my chin with two fingers and brought my mouth to his. When our lips met, I tried to remember to breathe out my nose as Steven slipped his tongue into my mouth. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and Steven guided me down on the couch.

“Hey,” I whispered, “you have a bedroom?” I blushed hotly. “I feel kind of weird doing this in your living room.”

Steven nipped at my neck, and I cried out. “Yeah,” he murmured, his hot breath tickling my skin. “But my room doesn’t have a TV.”

I blushed. “Somehow, I don’t think you’re really interested in a movie right now,” I whispered huskily.

Steven snickered. “You’re right,” he said. He slipped an arm under my back and the other under my knees, lifting me up with surprising strength. I cried out, thinking that he was going to drop me, but instead, he carried me up the stairs and into a room decorated in gray and blue. It smelled musky – like Steven – and I inhaled deeply.

Steven dropped me gently on his twin-sized bed. Then he lay down next to me and wrapped an arm around my stomach, pulling me close.

“I really like you,” Steven repeated. His blond hair was tousled, and his brown eyes seemed dark with sincerity.

I bit my lip. “I like you, too,” I whispered.

Steven kissed me again, more slowly this time. When my lips parted and I felt his tongue touch against mine, I melted in his arms. As Steven’s hands slipped under my shirt and pulled it over my head, I shivered and snuggled close to him. My body was desperate for Steven, but my mind was still playing a tug of war. I should do this, I thought, slipping my hands under Steven’s shirt and running them against his hot, smooth back. ‘Then I bet we’d finally be a couple. And I bet Andrea wouldn’t do this – she’s too much of a prude.’

For a moment, thinking of Andrea killed the warm, fuzzy feeling in my lower belly. But then Steven crawled between my legs and started kissing my neck, moving his mouth down my body until his lips were brushing my stiff nipples through the lace cups of my bra.

I moaned softly. Steven looked up at me with desire gleaming in his eyes.

“You want to?”

After a second, I nodded. “Yeah,” I said softly. “I want to.”

---

Afterward, we lay narrowly in Steven’s bed, sweating and panting. I felt wet and sticky between the legs, and I grimaced, reaching down to make sure I wasn’t bleeding. But my fingers came away clear, and after a second’s hesitation, I wiped them on the blue sheets of Steven’s bed.

“I hope you still like me,” Steven joked.

Just as I was about to reply, I heard the sound of a car engine pulling close.

“Shit!” Steven leapt out of bed, reaching for his boxers and jeans. “What the fuck? My parents are coming home!”

Alarm bells sounded in my brain, and I jumped off the still-damp sheets, pulling my jeans and fumbling with the snap of my bra. When I was fully dressed, I ran into the bathroom and locked the door. I was still washing my face and fixing my hair when I heard the front door open and close.

“Steven? We’re home!” Mrs. D’Amico called. “Andrea got sick at the doctor’s, so we decided to come home early and order a pizza!”

I waited until after Steven’s footsteps had thundered down the stairs before I emerged from the bathroom. My face was still flushed, and my hair was damp, but I’d added water to make it look like I’d just been sweating or something.

Mrs. D’Amico frowned when she saw me. “Steven, the upstairs bathroom isn’t for guests,” she said. “You know that.”

But she was staring at me when she said it.

“Uh, yeah, sorry Mom,” Steven.

Mrs. D’Amico gave me a tight smile. “Elizabeth, how are you?” She cooed insincerely. “It’s been ages since we last saw you. I was starting to think something had happened between you and my son.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m fine,” I said. “I was actually just leaving.”

Andrea smiled up at me. Her cast had been changed, and the white strips of material gleamed in the dim light of the foyer.

“Steven, I missed you!” Andrea chirped. “Can you help me into the living room?”

“Sure.”

Steven walked over to Andrea and scooped her up tenderly, just like he’d done with me not one hour ago. My heart sank as I watched him carry her gingerly into the living room like she was made of porcelain.

“Bye, Elizabeth,” Steven called over his shoulder. “See you back in school.”

Tears sprang to my eyes, and I pushed past Mrs. D’Amico, storming out the front door and stomping down the stairs. The icy air hit me like a slap in the face, but I didn’t stop. Instead, I started running as fast as I could toward Monica’s house.

Images of Steven and Andrea kept flashing through my mind, chilling me to the bone. I didn’t know what to do. In all of those stupid teen magazines I read, there weren’t any problems like the ones I was facing with Steven. Girls wrote in with things like, “My boyfriend doesn’t like it when I talk to other guys.” Or, “I like this guy, but he has really bad breath. What do I do?”

I shivered and wrinkled my nose, imagining the letter I’d write: “I really like this guy, but his sister likes him, too, and I think he likes his sister more than me!”

It was enough to make me sick. I ran and ran, dodging piles of wet slush and snow. Soon, my lungs were aching and my sides burned, but I kept going until the Boers sprawling old farmhouse came into view. As I ran up the steps and pounded on the door, I prayed for Monica to be home.

Jamie answered the door. She smiled much more warmly than Mrs. D’Amico had. “Hello, Elizabeth,” Jamie said. “Monica’s upstairs. You want me to get her?”

I sighed with relief. “No, I’m okay,” I said. “I’ll just go up myself if that’s all right.”

Jamie nodded. “Sure,” she said.

I took the stairs two at a time and pushed open Monica’s door, quickly shutting it behind me. She was sitting in bed, her face focused on her laptop.

“Hey,” I said quickly. “Sorry to burst in.” I sighed and flopped down on her bed, covering my hands with my face.

Monica didn’t look up. “It’s fine,” she said. “I’m just doing this stupid essay for school.” She rolled her eyes. “Mrs. Green actually wants to take me out of her AP class because I missed so much time,” she grumbled. “I wrote this essay so the principal would be on my side.”

I nodded. “Oh,” I said.

Finally, Monica met my gaze. “What’s up?”

I sighed. “I…I, um, just came from Steven’s.”

Monica raised her eyebrows and snickered. “You look exhausted,” she said. “What happened?”

“We had sex,” I said flatly.

Monica’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch. “No kidding,” she said.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, you don’t seem thrilled about that,” Monica said slowly. “Did something happen? Did it hurt?”

I shrugged and made a face. “Kind of,” I said. “I mean, at first.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?” Monica narrowed her eyes. “Why did you come over here? Why didn’t you stay there, and…I don’t know, cuddle?”

“His parents came home.” I grimaced. “Thankfully, it was right after, but I was still in the bathroom, and his mom had the nerve to bitch about how guests shouldn’t be upstairs.”

Monica rolled her eyes. “That sounds just like her,” she said. “Condescending bitch.”

“There’s something really wrong with Steven and Andrea,” I said. “As soon as they got home, Steven scooped her up and carried her into the living room – just like he had carried me upstairs. It was really creepy, Monica. You should see the way he looks at her. It’s like no other woman exists when Andrea is around.”

Monica’s eyes took on a strange, glazed look. “They are bound together,” she said slowly.

I rolled my eyes. “Obviously,” I replied. “They’re brother and sister. It’s so fucking gross,” I added. “Like, I don’t know what she’s even trying to do. Is she jealous of me?”

Monica didn’t reply. Her brown eyes turned dull and vacant.

“Hello?” I leaned in close, staring at her in exasperation. “Monica, what happened? Are you still here?”

“They are bound for centuries,” Monica said. Her voice was low and gravelly, deep enough to make me shiver. “They are bound,” she repeated.

“Yeah, you said that.” I reached over and grabbed Monica by the shoulders, lightly shaking her.

Monica didn’t say anything. She began to hum in a low, tuneless drone that filled my ears like the buzzing of bees.

“You’re being creepy,” I told her. “Quit it, okay?” I groaned. “Look, I’m sorry. I know it’s weird. But I just wanna know what’s going on with Steven and his stupid, creepy sister!”

Monica’s humming grew louder. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, but I couldn’t deny that I was starting to feel frustrated, too.

“Come on, snap out of it,” I said, snapping my fingers in front of Monica’s face. “This isn’t funny!”

Monica started swaying from side to side, humming loudly and rolling her head.

I climbed off the bed and groaned. “Whatever,” I said. “You can be weird on your own time. Bye.”

I expected Monica to snap out of it, to call after me. But as I walked out of her bedroom and ran down the stairs, she didn’t follow. The house was soon filled with the dull sound of her humming.

Jamie glanced up as I was leaving. “Going so soon? Brian and I thought you might want to stay for dinner.”

“No, thanks,” I said, trying to be polite. “I can’t. I’ve got to go home.”

It was then that I noticed the same creepy, blank look in Jamie’s eyes.

“Very well,” she said slowly – almost mechanically. “See you soon, Elizabeth.”

Angry and scared, I turned and ran all the way home.

Chapter Ten

Monica

“I don’t even know why I bother,” I mumbled, sitting up and rubbing sleep from my eyes. I was cradled in a wooden cot in the middle of a hut. Unlike the world around us, the sacred land belonging to the coven always stayed fertile and crisp.

Henrik sniffed. “You certainly don’t have to be rude,” he said. “But I can sense there is a problem. What now, Monica?”

I sighed. ‘Elizabeth,’ I thought. But I didn’t feel like talking about her, not now. “It’s nothing,” I said. “I mean, I’ll tell you later.”

Henrik nodded. He didn’t exactly look satisfied with my explanation. “Ligeia and I have something important that we wish to discuss with you,” he said. “Come, child. This way.”

“What now, I’m not doing enough?” I rolled my eyes.

Henrik shook his head. “No,” he said quietly. “Nothing like that, I am sorry to say it.”

I glared at him. “Can you just tell me now?” I shifted anxiously. “I really can’t be here too long, Henrik. My best friend needs me. She’s gotten into a lot of trouble lately.”

“Aye,” Henrik grunted. “And she’ll be in more before this is all over,” he said slowly. “Come, child. Ligeia waits.”

Henrik led me through the leafy, verdant forest and into Ligeia’s stone hut. There was a young girl kneeling at the hearth, and Ligeia was instructing her in runes.

“Ligeia, I have brought the young one,” Henrik said. “Please, send for libations.”

Ligeia nodded stoically to the girl kneeling by the hearth. The girl flushed and got to her feet, wiping her ashy hands on the muslin fabric of her shirt before curtseying to Ligeia and Henrik and running out of the hut. Ligeia clapped her hands. Seconds later, two young women came in, wearing veils over their heads. They were each carrying trays of something that smelled delicious – roasted meat, and something sweet and floral, like honey.

Ligeia passed me an earthenware cup. I sniffed cautiously.

“What is this?” I asked warily. “I don’t want any more of those drugs.”

Ligeia shook her head. “No,” she said. “This is just mead, freshly harvested with lavender.”

I sipped. It was thick and sweet on my tongue, and I closed my eyes, savoring the unusual taste. Ligeia and Henrik each took a cup, and Ligeia settled down on a stone chair, looking as comfortable as if she were on a silk chaise.

“Monica, there is something I have deliberately kept from you all of this time,” Ligeia said softly. “And I hope that when you discover the truth, you will be able to forgive me.”

I eyed her. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “What’s going on?”

Ligeia sighed. “It is about my sister, Prudence Arrowsmith.”

The mead churned in my stomach, and I reached for a piece of dark, rough bread, kneading and tearing it apart with my fingers. A cold wave of nausea passed over me, and I shivered.

“Yes,” Ligeia said quietly. “I regret that it is not good news.”

“What is it?”

Ligeia looked at Henrik. He gave her a long, hard stare before nodding the briefest of nods.

“I have been untruthful about Prudence’s true abilities,” Ligeia said in a low voice. “I have told you that she is a powerful religious fanatic.”

“She is,” I said. “Trust me – that hasn’t changed. Andrea’s a freak.”

“That is not all,” Ligeia said quickly. “At first, that was all I believed because I had no knowledge of her kind.”

A shiver crawled down my spine, and I swallowed the knot that was starting to form in my throat. “What do you mean, her kind?”

“She is a witch,” Ligeia said. “An ancient, evil, powerful witch.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said slowly. “Why would she be so against us then? Does she hate what she is?”

Ligeia shook her head, a grave look on her wizened face. “No,” she said. “She is not like us. She does not draw her power from the Earth, from the world, but rather from within.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“She seeks to destroy the good magical folk among us,” Ligeia said. “Each lifetime, Prudence has been born with varying levels of power. Despite the fact that we have been at odds for centuries, she has never before been this powerful.”

“She’s been reincarnating all this time?”

Ligeia nodded. “Always with the same foul intent,” she said in disgust. Her eyes flared with anger and centuries of resentment.

I felt my heart sink.

“This is the most powerful she has ever been,” Henrik said. He cleared his throat and coughed. “She already has most of the town of Jaffrey – your town – under her control.” He shook his head sadly. “Ligeia and I did not believe it to be possible, but we were wrong, most unfortunately,” he said.

“What does this mean?” I sniffed. Fear was dripping into my chest, making me feel paralyzed and nauseous.

“It means that we have a difficult challenge ahead,” Ligeia said softly. “It means that things will be more intense than we had originally thought.”

I sighed. “We might as well give up,” I said. I slumped against the crude wooden table. “I don’t know what to do. The whole town has already lost its god damn mind. Elizabeth got taken by the cops for over twelve hours, and no one did anything. She’s a minor! She’s only fifteen!”

Ligeia nodded gravely. “Yes,” she said slowly. “And things will become worse before they become better, I assure you.”

“Prudence seeks power from the good magical people,” Henrik said. He took a long swig of mead and put his cup down on the hearth. “She seeks to destroy us, absorb our power, and then control as much as she can, which unfortunately, is a great deal.”

“How are we supposed to stop her?” I threw my hands up in the air. “She’s steamrolling over everyone!”

“She must be taken down individually,” Henrik said in a low voice. He scooted closer and reached for a hunk of goat cheese from the table. As I watched, he broke it apart in his hands. “She herself must be destroyed in order to break the hold on your village.”

“So, I have to kill her,” I said blankly. Somehow, saying the words out loud didn’t bother me nearly as much as I thought. I’d never imagined how anyone could willingly commit a murder.

But suddenly, I understood.

“Are you making me feel this way?” I turned to Henrik. “Are you controlling me?”

“No, child,” Henrik said. “Your thoughts are your own. And you are correct,” he added, rubbing his chin with one wrinkled hand. “She must be killed and ripped apart. Her heart must be burned.”

I shuddered. “That’s intense,” I said quietly.

“It is what must be done,” Ligeia said. “She will burn your entire home if you don’t stop her.”

I blinked. “You two are more powerful than I am,” I said slowly. “Why can’t you kill her on your own?”

“Because we are not of physical power,” Henrik said.

“You’ve been controlling my parents’ minds for months,” I snapped. “And by the way, how the hell is that any different from Andrea controlling everyone in Jaffrey?”

“Henrik controls your parents in order to help your powers flourish,” Ligeia said. “You mustn’t be angry with him. Prudence is different. She only seeks to control for sheer love of power itself. That is the most dangerous love of all, Monica. Surely, you realize that.”

I sighed. I knew she was right.

“Fine,” I snapped. “So why can’t you…I don’t know, possess someone? Have that person kill her?”

“That would hardly be fair,” Ligeia said. She raised her eyebrow. “Imagine waking up from a long sleep only to find blood on your hands. We could not do that to an innocent. That is more like something Prudence would do.”

“But it’s different if I kill her?” I narrowed my eyes. “Well, too bad. I don’t want to.”

“You must,” Henrik said quietly. “We will have no chance of survival if the spirit of Prudence Arrowsmith is allowed to reincarnate once more. We have already allowed her too much power. She should have been stopped eons ago.”

“Lucky me,” I mumbled.

“Yes,” Ligeia said. “You are very fortunate, Monica. You will be heralded as one of the most powerful witches of all time if you manage to stop Prudence. Everyone who practices magic will know your name.”

“I only wanted to get famous for writing,” I mumbled.

“Life has chosen a more powerful fate for you,” Ligeia said. “Henrik, please. Leave us for a moment.”

Henrik nodded gruffly. He got up and bowed slowly to Ligeia, then turned to me and dipped his head. I stared. It was the first time he’d shown me anything even resembling respect. After he was gone, Ligeia beckoned for me to come close.

“I am an old woman,” Ligeia said. “Defeating Prudence has been a lifelong goal.” She reached out for my hands and grabbed them with surprising strength. Her hands felt warm and smooth, another surprise given her mass of wrinkles.

“I know,” I said. “I’ll try, I promise.” I felt my walls start to come down, and before long, I was crying, resting my head on Ligeia’s shoulder. “I’m so scared,” I wailed. “I’m so worried about my friends, Ligeia.”

“I know, child,” Ligeia said. She stroked my hair and rocked me against her chest like I really was a child. “All this evil shall pass, and life will return to what you are used to.”

I felt sick as I nodded. “Okay,” I mumbled softly. “I’ll do it.”

Ligeia looked at me. Her blue eyes searched mine until I felt stripped naked of all pretension.

“You must swear it,” she said. “Swear to me, to Henrik, to the coven that you will complete this task.”

The words spilled from my mouth before I could really think about them.

“I swear it,” I said.

Ligeia reached behind her. When I looked down at her hands again, I saw she was holding an athame. Ligeia handed the knife to me. She began chanting in a low voice under her breath. I watched as she reached for a piece of chalk and made a few strange markings on the hearth – runes, but I didn’t recognize any of them. Then Ligeia plucked the athame from my grasp. She took my hand, pulling it close and gripping my wrist. I couldn’t breathe as she turned my palm up to face the fire, then made a sharp slash across the skin with the athame. Dark red blood dripped from my palm onto the hearth, and I gasped as the runes lit up to a shimmering, soothing blue light.

“This child will banish you, Prudence,” Ligeia hissed into the fire. “You will be dust and dirt and earth; your spirit will be crushed and trapped.”

I tried to pull my bleeding hand away, but Ligeia kept a firm grip. She sliced her own palm with the athame, then dripped blood onto the runes. They hissed.

“Prudence, you will not defeat me,” Ligeia said. She gazed into the fire. The firelight flickered on her face, making her look almost young. “You have come to the end of your life.”

Following Ligeia’s gaze, I gasped as I looked into the fire and saw Andrea’s face, smirking at me.

“Your end is near, Prudence,” Ligeia growled. Grabbing my hand, she squeezed the puckered flesh on my palm and gathered some of my blood in her palm. I gasped in pain as Ligeia flung the blood into the rising flames, making them hiss and steam.

Andrea’s smirk faded and was soon replaced by a tortured moan. She screamed and writhed, wailing and twisting in the flames. I couldn’t take my eyes away as Ligeia did the same with her own hand, throwing droplets of blood into the flaming hearth. Andrea wailed and moaned, screeching so loudly that I had to cover my ears. Then she faded slowly into the fire, until I couldn’t see anything other than flames licking high – up, up, up, into the chimney.

Ligeia looked at me serenely.

“It is done,” Ligeia said. She tossed her head, placing the athame behind her once more. She handed me a clean strip of cotton, and I wrapped my palm, gritting my teeth. Blood soaked through the fabric almost at once, but I kept it pressed firmly to the wound.

Ligeia clapped her hands once more. A few seconds later, Henrik walked back into the hut.

“Come, child,” Henrik said. “We must get you home.”

I nodded. Just as I was almost out of Ligeia’s hut, she called my name, and I turned around.

“Yes?”

“Thank you, child,” Ligeia said. She dipped her head in a small bow. “For agreeing to help us. We will not survive without your help.”

I nodded. “I know,” I said.

“I know it is not to your taste,” Ligeia said. “But it is necessary.”

Henrik and I walked through the woods in silence.

“I’m scared,” I confessed. “What happens after I kill her?”

“Hopefully, the spell will be broken on everyone you know,” Henrik said.

I frowned. “Hopefully?”

“Sometimes, in the case of a very, very powerful witch, spells can remain for days, even years,” Henrik said. “Obviously, we will do everything we can to counter the possibility of this happening. But I can make no promises to you, Monica. We must handle each thing as it comes.”

I nodded stiffly.

“Earlier, you were going to ask me something,” Henrik prodded gently. “What is it, child? What do you wish to know?”

I shook my head. “I don’t really feel like talking about it,” I said. I looked down at my feet and kicked a rock, listening to the sound of it skimming across the leaves. I could tell that we were nearly out of the sacred land of the coven – the air was growing colder by the second, and the leaves were turning brown and dead.

“You may tell me,” Henrik said kindly.

I sighed. I closed my eyes, thinking about the intense look in Elizabeth’s eyes. Her confusion over Steven and Andrea. I shivered, thinking of how she’d react when she learned the truth about Andrea.

I bit my lip. “My friend, Elizabeth,” I said slowly. “She wants to join the coven.”

Henrik peered down at me. “She does, does she?”

I nodded. “Can she?”

Chapter Eleven

Elizabeth

When school started again, I didn’t even bother trying to talk to Steven. A couple of times, I could tell he was hurt. He’d come up to me at my locker and tried asking me if I wanted to get together. But the curfew was still in effect, and every time I thought of my night spent at the police station, my wrists chafed with pain.

More than anything, I wished Andrea would just go away. I wanted to confide in Steven; I wanted to be close to him. But I couldn’t risk telling him anything. How did I know he wouldn’t spill to Andrea, just like he’d done the first time I’d talked to him about Monica?

It didn’t help that being home made me anxious. Mom was mad at me because I still hadn’t forgiven Aidan, and Dad was distant, wrapped up in some work project that kept him out of the house for long hours. Most of the time when I got home from school, I’d stay in bed until dinner and then stay up late doing my homework. It made me feel rebellious to stand at my window and stare out at the dark streets.

One night in January, I was sitting at my desk, listening to the sound of snow and hail blowing outside. Jaffrey was in the middle of a blizzard – supposedly one of the worst storms in years – and we hadn’t had school in three days. I was going stir-crazy.

Mom knocked on my door. “Hey, sweetie, can I come in?”

I groaned, arming myself for yet another conversation about how I ‘had to’ forgive Aidan.

“Yeah,” I called.

Mom pushed open my door and came in, settling down on my unmade bed. “How are you, sweetie?”

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just kind of bored with all the snow. I’m caught up on schoolwork,” I added quickly, before Mom could ask.

Mom nodded. “How is Steven?” She raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen him around in a while.”

“Oh, yeah, well, you know…” I trailed off, biting my lip. “The curfew and all. Makes it pretty hard to go outside.”

Mom nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “That must be rough on you.”

I shrugged.

“Honey, did something happen between the two of you?”

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. Again, I couldn’t imagine admitting anything even close to the truth. This was like one of those dumb, Lifetime movies, minus the D-list actors.

“I don’t know,” I said after a long pause. “His family is kind of strict, you know. They don’t really want him dating.”

Mom laughed. “They’re going to have a hard time with that when he’s at college, I bet,” she said. “Sorry,” she added. “I don’t mean to imply he’s going to forget you.”

‘I almost wish he would,’ I thought. But all I said was, “Yeah.”

My phone buzzed on my desk.

“Steven?” Mom glanced over, trying to see.

“Uh, I don’t know,” I said. “Do you mind?”

Mom nodded and scurried out of my room. She didn’t close the door behind her, and I groaned, getting up and slamming it quickly.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

“David?” I squinted. “It’s been months.”

“Yeah,” David said darkly. “Sorry about that.”

“Is everything okay? Did something happen to Monica? Oh, my god, what’s–”

David laughed – a rough, raspy sound that turned into a cough. “Everything’s fine, calm down,” he said. “I mean, it’s not fine. But you know, whatever, we’ll get through it.”

I blinked. “Did you guys have a fight?” My stomach churned. ‘Why is he calling me?’ I wondered. ‘Why is he telling me all of this?’

“No, it’s nothing about Monica,” David said. He cleared his throat. “I haven’t been able to visit her in a few months because of this stupid, fucking curfew.”

My heart stopped in my chest. “You have a curfew there, too?”

David laughed humorlessly. “Oh, shit, it’s not just here?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Anyone under eighteen has to be inside, at home, by seven-thirty.” My wrists ached, and I shivered. For a moment, I debated telling David about what had happened that night. But I decided against it. Sharing something so personal probably wasn’t a good idea.

“Anyone under eighteen can’t leave town, except with a parent or guardian,” David said. He clucked his tongue. “It’s fucking insane. They’ve got cops set up at all the roads that lead outside of town. My friend tried a couple of weeks ago, and he was in jail for the whole night.”

I shivered. Against my better judgment, I blurted out, “Yeah, something similar happened to me.”

David fell quiet for a moment.

“I know this is crazy,” I said quickly, “but I think you were right.”

“About what?”

I lowered my voice and stepped away from the door, turning toward the window. “About Monica…and that whole witch thing,” I said quickly. “I know it sounds crazy, but I think there’s something supernatural going on here. And Monica’s in trouble. She disappeared for another month before Christmas.”

There was a long pause.

“David? You still there?”

“She doesn’t tell me anything anymore,” David said. He sounded bitter. “I haven’t really talked to her lately.”

‘Then why are you calling me?’

“Either way, she’s in trouble,” I said quickly. “And we have to help her. I don’t know. I asked her, like, if I could join…you know, like join her…” I trailed off.

“Her coven?” David snorted. “That’s what it’s called.”

I rolled my eyes. ‘Still insufferable,’ I thought. ‘Even if you are being a lot nicer.’

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “She got really mad and told me to stay out of it.”

David sighed. “Monica’s like that,” he said slowly. “She doesn’t want to accept any help from anyone if there’s even a chance she thinks she can do it herself.”

“Something really awful is happening,” I whispered, gripping the phone.

“It’ll probably get worse before it gets better,” David said. He sighed. “That’s usually the way things go.”

I swallowed. “I should probably get off the phone.”

“Okay. Bye, Elizabeth.”

It wasn’t until after we’d hung up that I realized I still had no idea why David had called in the first place. Just as I was texting to ask why, a loud knocking sounded from downstairs.

I shivered. Pressing my ear to my bedroom door, I listened as Mom walked into the foyer.

“Yes?”

“Mrs. Hartsell, is your daughter, Elizabeth, at home?”

Cold panic raced down my spine, and I felt rooted to the spot in fear as I heard the front door close and booming voices ascend from the downstairs foyer. My mom’s words were incoherent, a buzzy whine next to the booming voice of the cops.

“Elizabeth!” Mom yelled. “Can you come down here, please?”

My legs were shaking as I walked down the stairs. Sure enough, two cops were standing there, in full uniform. One of them was holding a pair of handcuffs.

“Elizabeth Hartsell,” one of the cops boomed.

I tried to look calm. “Yes?”

“You’ve been discussing forbidden topics,” one of the men said. “Come with us, please.”

In terror, I grabbed my Mom’s sleeve and tried to cling to her. “Mom, don’t let them take me,” I begged. “You can’t let them arrest me. I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Ma’am, we’ll need to take your daughter down to the station,” one of the cops said.

My mom turned to me in dismay. “Elizabeth, what are they talking about?”

“I don’t know!” I shouted. “Please, don’t let them take me!”

“We’ve received reports that your daughter has been discussing witchcraft, both in person and telephonically,” the bulkier of the two cops said. “And as you know, as of the decree from last November that is a forbidden topic that carries punishment to the fullest extent of the law.”

“It’s not against the law to talk about witchcraft,” I said quickly. “There’s nothing in the Constitution about it!”

My mom was shaking her head. “Elizabeth, what is going on here?”

“I don’t know,” I begged. “Just please, please, don’t let them take me anywhere!”

“Step aside, ma’am,” one of the cops said to my mom. She moved out of the way slowly, as if in a trance. When the cop grabbed my wrists and forced them behind my back, I started to cry. The feel of cold metal encircling my wrists brought a flash to panic to the front of my mind, and I screamed.

Mom was staring at me like she’d never seen me before as the cops hustled me out of the door and into the cold, snowy night. They dragged me across the front yard and pushed me into the backseat of a police cruiser. I was shivering violently – I was only wearing thin pajamas – but the cops didn’t seem to notice. As they backed out of my parents’ driveway, they started chatting amiably about an annual police barbecue.

“Hey,” I said sharply, “I didn’t do anything wrong! You have to let me go!”

“I’d advise you to keep your mouth shut,” one of the cops snarled.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I repeated.

The cop rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever,” he said. He turned back around, settling against the seat.

By the time we got to the police station downtown, my chest was so tight with anxiety that I thought I was going to throw up. Just like before, the cops left me in the car for almost an hour while they went inside. By the time they dragged me into the station, I was actually glad to be out of the cold. I was shivering and shaking as one of the cops dragged me down a familiar hallway.

But unlike last time, the room was full of people from all around Jaffrey. I recognized a couple of kids from school, as well as this old guy who used to live across the street from my parents. They were all handcuffed – silent and miserable.

“Is everybody here for the same thing?” I asked when the cop had left us alone. “Witchcraft?”

One of the kids glared at me. “Shut up,” he said. “They don’t like us talking.”

“I don’t like them hauling me downtown when I didn’t do anything wrong,” I cried loudly. “This isn’t fair!”

This time, multiple people glared, even my old neighbor.

“Elizabeth, keep your mouth shut,” he said. “This isn’t about you.”

Tears of frustration welled up in my eyes, and I sank down against the wall. The room smelled of sweat and piss and shit, and soon, no matter how I tried to block it out, the odor was trapped in my sinuses. I felt sick and tired and miserable. The metal cuffs were worse than the plastic ones. This time, the metal cut sharply into my skin, and soon my fingers were slippery with blood. Moaning softly, I closed my eyes and rested my head against the wall.
The cops never came back for me. They came back a few times during the night with kids – probably for violating curfew – but no one talked. No one even whispered.

And just like last time, there was no offer of food, water, or a toilet.

I closed my eyes and thought about David, thought about Monica. In my panic when I’d heard the knock on the door, I’d dropped my phone without sending a text. ‘Stupid,’ I thought. ‘I should’ve texted Monica and told her what was happening. She’s probably not even here. She’s probably in the woods, with her stupid fucking coven.’

I felt bleak and helpless. If someone had been listening to my phone call with David, it had taken practically no time for them to arrive at my front door and arrest me. It was chilling to realize that my hometown had become a police state overnight. And what was with the talk about the decree?

Suddenly, I remembered that night at the church when Andrea had begun railing against witches. I shivered.

Just then, the door swung open. A cop glanced down at his clipboard.

“Elizabeth Hartsell?”

I scrambled to my feet, wincing at the pain in my arms. “Yeah?”

“Come with me.”

My heart was thudding nervously as I followed the cop out to the hall. Just before we turned the corner, he grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me around. I heard the click of metal against metal, and suddenly, my hands were free. They were numb and purple, and I rubbed them until tears came to my eyes.

Monica was waiting in the lobby, looking oddly distant. “Come on,” she said.
Wordlessly, I followed her. It was early morning. Birds were singing, and the sun was making a valiant effort to appear from behind a gray cover of clouds.

Monica handed me a jacket. “It’s probably too big,” she said. “I borrowed it from Brian. I thought my stuff would be too small.”

I pulled it on, wrapping it around myself. It smelled comforting, like wood smoke. Monica turned and started walking away from town, away from my house.

“Where are we going?”

Monica didn’t reply. She set a fast pace, and I had to jog to keep up with her. I felt weak and hungry and tired, but I could feel adrenaline pumping through my veins as Monica walked on. Finally, I realized we were going to her house.

“Monica, I wanna go home,” I said, yawning. “I’m starving and tired.”

“I know.”

“So, I’m gonna go,” I said. “I’ll come over later, okay?”

Monica shook her head. “No,” she said. “Come with me.”

I felt my legs start to move again, and I looked down in horror to see that I was still following her. Fear settled in my chest, and I tried to breathe deeply, but I couldn’t quell the rising sense of panic.

When we were almost to Monica’s house, she turned and led me into the woods. My feet were soaking wet and freezing – I’d left my house for the police station in a pair of slippers – but Monica didn’t slow down. She led me deeper and deeper into the woods.

After about twenty minutes, Monica turned to me.

“Elizabeth?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you still want to join the coven?”

I nodded. My teeth were chattering. “Yes,” I squeaked. “Yes.”

Monica closed her eyes and lifted her arms into the air. Suddenly, everything went black. I screamed as my body started to fall through space, my limbs thrashing and waving.

“Elizabeth…” Someone in the distance was calling my name.

I tried to squint, but I couldn’t see anything other than an inky sea of black. I was slowing down, and soon I was just floating, like I was in the middle of the ocean.

“Elizabeth…Sleep now, Elizabeth.”

It was the last thing I heard before passing out.

THE END

Book 4: The Betrayal

Prologue

Elizabeth—Present Day

I couldn’t sleep.

I lay there in bed, listening to the rhythmic sounds of Steven’s snores, and wondered what I was doing wrong.

For so many years, I’d tried to act like I’d been okay.

But I didn’t think I would be able to keep up that pretense any longer.

“Steven?” I prodded Steven in the shoulder. “Are you awake?”

Steven grunted, then rolled back over.

I rolled onto my side, tucked a pillow over my face, pulling the covers up to my neck, and closed my eyes. Yeah, I thought. I’ll be able to sleep—just a little bit. That’s better than nothing.

The night was eerily quiet. It was cold for spring—almost too cold to be outdoors—but we had our bedroom window cracked open, chilled air filtering in and freezing my nose and fingertips.

My mind raced with thoughts. I’d always been like this—intense, as my mother to call it—but in the past week or so, everything had gotten worse. I could barely be alone with Steven without wanting to tear my hair out. Since the party, things had cooled between us. I wondered if I was just getting cold feet—maybe that was normal. After all, I had no idea what it was like to be married. None of my friends were married… not that I had many friends besides Steven and Karen nowadays.

Not to mention that I couldn’t stop thinking about David.

I lay there for probably two hours, tossing and turning and thrashing around. I hate to admit it because I know how bitchy it sounds, but part of me almost hoped that Steven would wake. Since the party, there had been a thick tension between us that I was loath to confront… but even I realized that at some point, soon, things would explode.

By the time the sky was streaked pink and orange with the coming of dawn, I knew that sleep would elude me for the rest of the night. I wistfully thought back to the months before, where I could just lie in bed all day, close my eyes, and pretend like I was falling asleep. But I hadn’t felt a calm like that in a very, very long time.

Sighing, I crawled out of bed, trying not to wake Steven. He made a murmuring sound, then flopped over and rolled into the space formerly occupied by my body. I frowned as I reached for my robe from the floor and wrapped it around my body. The fabric was cold, and I shivered, almost tempted to climb back into bed. Then Steven started to snore and I rolled my eyes, turning on my heel and padding out of our room.

The old wooden floor creaked under my feet as I crept down the hall. Passing Karen’s room, I heard the light sound of her snores. I walked down the hall and stopped at the end, kneeling in front of a closet and turning on the harsh, yellow light.

I groaned. This closet was filled with everything from my Mom’s house, everything I’d taken when I’d moved out after college. Grimy cardboard boxes were covered with a layer of dust as thick as my hand. Covering my mouth and nose with a flap of my robe, I coughed until pain spread through my chest and my eyes were damp.

“Christ,” I muttered under my breath as I reached into the closet and pulled the boxes out into the hall. Soon, I was surrounded by towers and stacks of cardboard. It was ridiculous—there seemed to be twice as many boxes as I remembered.

It took a long time for me to find the boxes with my high school stuff. As I rifled through old papers and things my mom had saved for God knows what reason, a powerful wave of nostalgia passed over me. It didn’t seem like very much time had passed—but digging through my memories, I realized that seven years was a surprisingly long time.

Finally, I found the box I was looking for. My heartbeat slowed to a dull thud in my chest and my stomach twisted nervously as I removed the lid and picked my way through the contents. I swallowed a newly formed lump in my throat as I dug through the books.

When my fingers brushed against the ancient leather cover, a shiver ran down my spine. As quickly as I could, I crawled to my feet and tucked the book under my arm. I walked into the laundry room and pulled on a pair of jeans under my robe, knotting my hair at the nape of my neck.

No matter how many times I tried to call the past to mind, it wouldn’t come. Whenever I tried to think about that time of my life, seven years ago, it was like my brain disappeared into a sea of mist. I could barely even make out the features of Monica’s face. Before she’d finally disappeared for good, we’d spent almost every day together.

Now it was like we’d barely known each other at all. I struggled with the most trivial information—her last name, the house where she’d lived with her weirdo hippie parents—anything that had once been as clear as day in my mind was now gone.

As I walked out into the chilly dawn air, I clutched the book in my hand. It was early in the spring, but I knew I could still probably find what I was looking for. The neighbor had an herb garden, and while I didn’t normally borrow from it, I figured he wouldn’t even notice.

Squatting down, I scooped up a few dying sprigs of lavender and sage, tucking them into the pocket of my robe. The ground had begun to thaw and my feet slipped messily over the wet surface until I very nearly lost my balance. But by the time I walked into the woods, I’d regained my balance.

Being out in the air was soothing—almost as much as hiding in bed, pretending to be asleep. And now that I was away from Steven, I felt infinitely less annoyed with him. Maybe it really is just cold feet, I thought, glancing down at the huge ring on my finger. Maybe everything is going to be fine. Still, a part of me didn’t feel like going back, not just yet.

The sight of new, green buds on the tree branches made me smile as I pushed my way through the dense mass of trees. Finally, after about fifteen minutes of walking, I stumbled into a small clearing. The last time I’d been here, it had been the middle of summer. The ground had been covered with a lush, emerald carpet of grass and the sun had been shining down through the trees.

But now, everything looked cold and dead. I dropped to my knees and pulled a lighter from my pocket, scooping together small twigs and dead leaves until I had a nice little blaze going. With my knife, I cut the herbs into bits and sprinkled them over the flames. Soon, the air was filled with a herbaceous, aromatic scent that somehow made me think of David.

My eyes watered with smoke but I forced myself to keep them open as I sat down, crossed my legs, and opened the thick book on my lap. Immediately, I found the page I sought. The drawing of Monica, looking blonde and serene, surrounded by her coven.

A chill ran down my spine. A sharp memory of being with David, looking for Monica, blasted into my head and I cried out. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a small knife that I’d borrowed from the kitchen. I gritted my teeth and sliced my palm open, squeezing the folds of the cut together with my other hand until blood dripped onto the fire.

Suddenly, everything went black and I felt myself slipping away from consciousness.

When I woke, I slowly rubbed my eyes. Around me, everything had turned a brilliant shade of green. Lush trees blew back and forth in the breeze. Looking down, I saw that my palm was still bleeding.

Henrik, Ligeia, and the rest of the coven stood all around me. Ligeia’s hands covered her mouth, but her blue eyes didn’t hide the intense shock on her wrinkled face. Henrik slowly shook his head.

“Elizabeth,” Henrik spoke after a long moment. “We… we weren’t expecting you.”

“I know.” Getting to my feet, I brushed my muddy, bleeding hands off on my robe.

“Tis Beltane soon,” Henrik said. “Were you thinking to join us for the festivities?”

“Um, I don’t know,” I said. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

Nearby, the leather-bound book lay in the wet grass.

“How may I help you?” Ligeia stepped forward and pulled me into a brief hug. I wrapped my arms around her shriveled form, holding her close.

“I think you know why I’m here,” I said uncertainly. The pages of the book flapped open in the wind, settling on the image of Monica and the coven.

Henrik and Ligeia exchanged a long look.

“Child, don’t make me attempt to read your mind,” Henrik said.

“I need to know what happened to Monica,” I said finally.

The silence following my request was deafening. The wind slowed—even the birds in the trees ceased chirping and singing.

“Child…”

“Tell me,” I said. Tears welled up in my eyes and I balled my hands into impatient fists. “I need to know,” I added hotly. “Things are falling apart and I can’t stand it anymore.”

Henrik and Ligeia stared at each other.

“Come on,” I groaned. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t make me beg,” I added sharply. “I helped you! I risked my life for you! And you won’t even tell me what happened to my best friend?”

“It isn’t so simple as that, child,” Henrik said slowly.

“And stop calling me a child!” I yelled. I knew that I was losing my temper—never acceptable behavior in front of my superiors—but I couldn’t help it. “I’m not a child! I’m twenty-two fucking years old!”

“Child…” Ligeia came forward and offered me a mug of something hot and steaming. “Drink this. Calm down, then we’ll talk about Monica.”

I stared at her with a mixture of contempt and disbelief.

“What’s going on here?” I asked quietly. “What’s the big fucking secret, huh?”

Ligeia cringed.

“I’d do anything to have Monica back,” I begged, dissolving into tears. I dropped Ligeia’s earthenware mug onto the ground and it shattered, spilling hot mead over my bare feet. I didn’t care—the pain only seemed to dull the emotional agony in my heart. “Please,” I added. “I need her. Everything is falling apart, and I can’t deal with it on my own.”

Ligeia stared at me, her blue eyes flashing. “Anything?” she asked solemnly. “Because if that is your wish, there is no going back.”

Suddenly, I felt nervous. Nervous and scared in a way that I hadn’t really felt since the town of Jaffrey had turned into hunting grounds for witches. Anxiety ran through my veins, chilling me to the bone.

“Tell me, Elizabeth,” Ligeia said softly. “Would you truly do anything for your best friend?”

I shivered and nodded. “Yes,” I said after a long pause. “I swear. I would. I will,” I added quickly.

Ligeia waved her arm and one of the witches walked over to her, dipping into a low bow.

“Build a fire, child,” Ligeia said. She stared at me. “We’ve got a long matter to discuss.”

I waited anxiously as the young witch built a fire. She trembled in fear—I wondered how long she’d been with the coven—but in a matter of moments, a strong fire blazed. Ligeia walked around it, murmuring under her breath.

An apparition of a girl—Andrea D’Amico—flickered above the fire. Andrea stared at her, the flames blazing behind her eyes. It looked so eerily, so uncannily like her that I shuddered with fear.

“What’s going on?” My mouth went dry as Andrea’s form taunted and swayed. “She died, years ago!”

Henrik threw his head back and laughed. The harsh, rough sound caught me off guard and I stared at him, blinking in confusion.

“What the hell?” I demanded angrily. “What have you done?”

“You’ll never be as smart as you should be,” Henrik said angrily. He laughed again, but this time it was quite obvious that the sound was as bitter as wormwood.

I narrowed my eyes. “And what does my intelligence have anything to do with this? Tell me,” I demanded angrily.

Above the fire, Andrea’s form flickered and hovered. She yawned, keeping her eyes locked on me the whole time.

“Andrea didn’t die, you little fool,” Henrik said sharply. “Monica imprisoned Andrea’s soul, as a means of keeping her under control.”

My heart skipped a beat, thudding against the walls of my chest. I felt like someone had punched me in the gut.

“You’re kidding,” I said softly.

Henrik narrowed his eyes. “No,” he replied calmly. “The only way Monica could accomplish this task was to seal herself away from the rest of the world. Elizabeth, your friend made a choice.”

“For me.”

“Yes. For you. Because she was, ultimately, not a selfish person.”

Tears came to my eyes and I tilted my head towards the sky, blinking them away. It seemed absurd to me that the day could be so beautiful when I hurt so deeply inside. Even though I knew it was all magicked together by Henrik and Ligeia, it seemed especially cruel to perpetuate such beauty when I felt so low.

“I want her back,” I said softly. “Why would she have done something like that?”

Ligeia raised a wizened eyebrow. “Child, you cannot be serious,” she said. “You must know.”

I didn’t reply.

Henrik sighed harshly. “She did it for you, Elizabeth. She did it so you could have a chance of happiness.”

“With Steven?” A tear rolled down my cheek.

“Yes, child.”

“Please let me go back home,” I whispered, burying my face in my hands. The other witches stared at me, their expressions murky and difficult to read.

“Coward.”

Henrik’s insult stung, but it wasn’t necessarily unexpected. I glanced up, my face dripping with tears.

“You don’t even want to stay?” Ligeia glared at me critically. “You said you’d do anything, remember?”

“There are some things I have to do,” I said softly. “I can’t stay here, not now.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“Not from me,” I said sharply. “I swear, I’ll return to the coven… and I’ll complete… I don’t know, whatever it is that you want me to do! But right now, I can’t. I have to go home. I have to make things right first.”

“If you want to make things right, you’ll stay here,” Henrik thundered angrily. “You can’t run away because we didn’t give you the answer you wanted to hear!”

I glared at him. “I don’t care,” I said. I got to my feet and wiped my palms on my robe. The hem of my jeans was soaked with wet, cold mud and I felt nauseous. All I wanted was to be back home, in my own bed.

“You’re still a child,” Henrik snapped. “You really think everything is about you, don’t you?”

“No, I—”

“I don’t care,” Henrik said angrily. “Go. See if I ever try to bring you back!”

Turning on my heel, I fled into the woods. As soon as I was away from Henrik and Ligeia’s magicked clearing, the woods were sparce and dead once again. A few buds on trees shook and wavered in the breeze, but I stumbled along the brown landscape in a fit of tears.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Monica. Now that I’d finally learned the truth, memories from high school flooded my brain, almost like standing under a waterfall of emotion. I didn’t even have to close my eyes—Monica’s face, Andrea’s face—practically everyone I’d known back then flashed before me.

“No,” I mumbled under my breath as I ran faster and faster. My sides ached and for a moment, I had the absurd urge to laugh. I’m so out of shape. I nearly stumbled over some dead leaves and branches. I can’t even run away from myself!

When I got to the edge of the woods, I stood there, panting and heaving. I leaned over and rested my hands on my thighs, shuddering and shivering. My body was soaked with sweat, and the cold air made me feel wretched and nauseous. The sun had completely risen by now—I wondered how much time had actually passed since I’d left, and I swallowed. There was a sinking feeling in my stomach. I knew that when I got home, Steven would be angry.

And the strange thing was, I didn’t care. I felt oddly numb and detached from the whole situation, almost like an outsider looking in. Almost like Karen—an innocent by-standing roommate, someone who wasn’t really involved.

Sniffling, I took a deep, shuddering breath and started the slow walk up to the house. My feet squelched in the mud. Looking down, I saw that my legs were covered in muck and filth, almost to my knees. The cuffs of my jeans were sodden and clinging to my ankles.

Suddenly, a loud sound pierced the air. It was like nothing I’d ever heard before, a sonic boom of anger that stunned me. A ripple of fear soared through my body and I wrapped my arms around my torso and hugged tightly.

Boom!

The sound flashed through the air once more and I swallowed, turning on my heel and looking at the woods. Sunlight sparkled and flashed over the ground. Licking my steps, I moved closer. There was something shiny on the ground, something that kept catching the light of the sun.

When I realized that it was the athame—Monica’s athame—I collapsed to the ground, losing consciousness.

“Elizabeth!”

The voice calling my name was urgent and stern. I groaned and rolled over, covering my eyes with both hands. My bed was warm and comfortable, and I pulled the blanket over my shoulder and snuggled back down into the pillows.

“Elizabeth, get up.”

I groaned. “What?” I moaned. “What’s going on?”

I opened my eyes. Steven sat on the bed, fully dressed and glaring at me.

“What the fuck?” I said. “Why did you wake me? What’s going on?”

Steven raised an eyebrow and pointed to the bed. I groaned when I saw the white sheets and duvet were filthy with mud and dead leaves.

“What happened?” Steven asked tersely. “Why the fuck would you come to bed without washing?”

I blinked and rubbed my eyes with both fists. There were crescent moons of dirt under my fingernails and I examined my hands carefully, looking at the scratches and scrapes.

“I don’t know,” I said. I frowned. “It was an accident. Maybe I was sleepwalking.”

Steven rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure, that’s a good one,” he snapped sarcastically. “I bet you sleepwalk all the time, don’t you?”

“Hey,” I said sharply. “Don’t talk to me like that. I said I was sorry. I’ll wash everything today; it’ll be fine with bleach.”

Steven rolled his eyes and threw his arms in the air. “You know what?” he growled. “I don’t give a fuck. I’ll be downstairs.”

Anger stirred inside me, hot and frantic as fire. I leapt to my feet, barely noticing the mud-smeared sheets.

“What?” Steven asked sarcastically. “Lemme guess—somehow, this is my fault. Right?”

I glared at him. “You’re treating me like a little kid,” I complained. “I told you, it was an accident. I wouldn’t do this on purpose.”

“You’re a kid,” Steven said. He snorted. “You’re twenty-two.”

I narrowed my eyes into angry slits. “And you, with all of your infinite twenty-three-year-old wisdom, somehow know better?”

“Yeah,” Steven barked. “I do. Excuse me,” he said. He pushed past me—more roughly than necessary—and stomped down the hall. When I heard the soles of his feet slapping against the stairs, I groaned and sank back down into the mattress.

“Elizabeth!” Steven yelled. “Come down here.”

I hate you, I thought suddenly. You’ve never respected me. We’re supposed to be enjoying the happiest time of our lives right now, and you can’t even take me seriously.

“Elizabeth!” Steven screamed. “I’m fucking serious!”

My face was flushed and hot with anger as I yanked off my pants and pulled on a clean pair of shorts from the dresser. My feet were still caked with mud and grime, but I didn’t care. I would give him a piece of my mind.

When I got downstairs, I saw Steven standing in front of the boxes I’d pulled from the closet the night before. His face was a contorted mask of rage.

“What the fuck is this?” Steven asked, gesturing to the papers and pictures. “Why the hell did you make a huge mess in the middle of the night and not even bother to clean it?” Before I could answer, he continued, “You’re so fucking selfish, Elizabeth. You don’t even care that other people live here, too. You ever thought of that?”

I glared. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me. It was completely uncharacteristic of Steven to be this rude… or was it? Was I finally starting to notice what other people had said all along?

I shivered.

“Hey,” Steven barked. He snapped his fingers. “Don’t get all weepy on me,” he warned. “You’re not getting out of this.”

His comments both stung me and confused me. Staring at him, I licked my lips.

“I don’t know why you’re being like this,” I said. My voice was shaky and unsteady, like that of a child. “It’s like you’re trying to look for a reason to be a complete asshole.”

Steven rolled his eyes. “You know what?” he snapped. “Forget it, Elizabeth. I’m fucking done.” He grabbed a cup of coffee from the counter and knocked it down his throat, swallowing hastily. I cringed—even from a few feet away, I could tell that it was scorching hot.

Just as I was about to say something else, Karen walked in. She yawned, rubbing both of her eyes with her fists. Resentment bubbled inside of me like I was one of Ligeia’s kettles.

“Hi,” Karen said sleepily. She yawned again, this time not bothering to cover her mouth.

Steven smiled at her. I felt my hurt and confusion spin into a hot blend of anger. How the fuck can he be acting so normal, I thought. Two seconds ago, he was screaming at me.

“Rough night?” Karen glanced down at my muddy feet and ankles, wrinkling her nose. “God, Elizabeth, you could’ve at least washed,” she added. “That’s so gross.”

“Sorry,” I muttered. “I was sleepwalking. I couldn’t help it.”

Karen raised her eyebrows. “Oh,” she said.

I could tell she didn’t believe me.

“Anyway, I was just leaving,” Steven said. He smiled again, then grabbed his wallet and tucked it into his back pocket. He left the room without even looking at me.

As soon as he was gone, Karen frowned. “What’s wrong with you guys?” she asked, sidling closer.

I rolled my eyes. “Nothing.”

“Come on, I can totally tell he’s pissed at you.”

“I don’t know, Karen,” I said. I couldn’t keep irritation from seeping into my voice. “Just forget about it, okay?”

“You can talk to me,” Karen said sweetly. She sidled up to me. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Just stay out of it,” I snapped. Turning around, I stalked out of the kitchen, down the hall, and onto the front porch. Steven stood in the yard, spinning his keys around on one finger.

When he saw me, he glared.

“I need some alone time,” Steven said. He shook his head in disgust. “You wouldn’t know the meaning of that, though.”

“Just tell me one thing,” I said sharply, walking closer. “Do you miss her?”

“What?” Steven narrowed his eyes. “Look, Elizabeth, whatever you’re playing at—I don’t have time for—”

“Do you miss her?” I repeated, raising my voice. At my sides, my hands balled into fists.

“You’re acting psycho,” Steven said. “Who are you even talking about?”

My gut twisted. “You know,” I said. “Andrea.”

“Who?”

“Don’t do this,” I warned, holding one fist in the air. All too late, I realized that I probably looked like I wanted to hit Steven. He realized it, too—his face went white and his shock of dirty-blonde hair flopped into his eyes.

“Elizabeth, just calm down,” Steven said. He darted to the side and put both hands on my shoulders.

Reluctantly, I lowered my fist.

“Just tell me,” I said hoarsely. The tears came rushing back and I bit my lip. “Just tell me, do you think about her? Do you miss her?”

“Elizabeth,” Steven said gently. “I really don’t know who you’re talking about.” He narrowed his eyes and reached up to put a hand on my forehead.

My heart twisted. “Your sister,” I said slowly. “Andrea. Remember?” I swallowed. “She… disappeared, back when we were still in high school.”

Steven narrowed his eyes. “Wow,” he said. He shook his head slowly, tossing his blonde hair like a dog shaking free of water. “I knew things were bad, but I had no idea they were this bad.”

“What does that even mean?” My heart slowly thudded in my chest. I licked my lips, suddenly dreading Steven’s answer.

“Elizabeth…I…” Steven trailed off. “You’re kidding, right? I mean, you can’t be serious right now.” He stepped closer, shielding his eyes with his hand. I could tell by the way the color had returned to his face that he was no longer angry with me, but I felt more confused than ever.

“I’m serious,” I said in a shaky voice. “I’ve been thinking about her lately. And I wondered if you missed her.” Because you always seemed to prefer her to me, I added in my head.

A wave of shame and guilt washed over me. Steven didn’t answer, he just shook his head. His mouth hung open—he looked completely devoid of words, unlike I’d ever seen him before.

“Elizabeth,” Steven said in a hushed voice. “I’m really worried about you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”

“Because you’re obviously… dealing with something right now,” Steven said. “I mean, you don’t even want to talk about it.”

“I’m trying to talk to you,” I said, glaring. “But you’re acting like I’m crazy. Look,” I added quickly. “I can show you! I have pictures,” I said, thinking of the boxes with all of my high school memorabilia.

Steven gave me a strange look. “I’m really starting to have my doubts about you.”

My jaw dropped. “What?”

“You heard me,” Steven said. “Maybe we should, I don’t know. Put a pause on wedding planning right now.”

“What?”

Steven sighed. “I’m not going to stand here repeating myself to a crazy woman,” he muttered, more to himself than to me. “Elizabeth, this has to stop. You’ve got to cut this shit out.”

“Just tell me,” I said sharply. “Do you miss her?”

Steven came closer and put his hands on my shoulders. I shuddered as he leaned in close, staring into my eyes.

“Elizabeth,” Steven said evenly. “I never had a sister. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Did you… I don’t know, fall and hit your goddamned head last night?”

A numb feeling spread through my limbs. What’s going on here. I know I’m not going crazy. Why is he playing dumb? Does he feel guilty about what happened so long ago?

Does he feel like he could’ve saved her?

“I’m calling a doctor,” Steven said. “I want you to go to the hospital, Elizabeth. I’m serious about this.”

My heart jackhammered in my chest and suddenly, a burst of anger exploded inside me. Crying out, I pushed Steven away from me, using both hands to shove him in the chest. Normally, I wouldn’t have had the strength but I must’ve caught Steven off guard. He went stumbling backwards, tripping over his own feet and landing with a wet squelch! in the muddy yard.

Steven shook his head as he scrambled to his feet, wiping his palms on his dirtied jeans.

“That’s it,” he snapped. “I’m done. Fuck this,” he added bitterly.

With a fiery snap of rage, I pulled the ring off my finger and threw it at Steven’s face. He cried out in surprise as the huge, tacky diamond bounced off his cheek and fell to the ground, landing in the muck.

“I’m done, too,” I said. I sniffled. My heart pounded—what the fuck was I doing? Why was I antagonizing Steven like this—the only man who had ever loved me?

“I can see that,” Steven snapped curtly. He grabbed the muddy ring and shoved it into his pocket before rolling his eyes. I watched, silent, as he walked over to his car and climbed in behind the wheel.

“Bye, Elizabeth,” Steven said bitterly. “It’s been real.”

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even breathe—I had to remind myself to keep inhaling and exhaling the fresh spring air. The engine in Steven’s car roared to life, then he spun out of the driveway, splashing muck into the air with the tires.

“Elizabeth?”

I turned and saw Karen standing there, looking dumb as a post.

“What?” I asked dully.

“You wanna talk about it?” Karen asked sweetly. “I can make some hot cocoa.” She walked over to me and put her hand on my shoulder, giving me a sympathetic glance.

“No,” I said coldly. “Leave me alone.”

“What happened?”

“Fuck off,” I snarled. I stalked back inside, slamming the door behind me and leaving a bewildered Karen in the yard.

Once I was back in the safety of my bedroom, I yanked off my pants and crawled in bed. The sheets were muddy and damp, but I didn’t care. I pulled the blankets over my head and reached for the nightstand, where my phone lay in a pile of keys and change.

My palms began to sweat as I dialed the number, then held the phone to my ear and pulled a pillow over my head.

He answered on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi, David,” I said nervously. “It’s me.”

Chapter One

Elizabeth—Seven Years Ago

I woke and lay there for a few seconds before opening my eyes. The air was filled with the fresh scents of spring and I felt my lips curving into a lazy smile.

“Child, you must rise now.”

My eyes flew open. An ancient-looking woman with piercing blue eyes and white hair trailing down her back stood right beside where I lay, staring at me.

“Oh, my God,” I said. I sat up quickly and wrapped my arms around myself. A rough texture rubbed against my skin and I looked down to see that I was wearing some kind of homespun robe. My mouth went dry and my heart skipped a beat.

The woman laughed. “I’m not your god,” she said.

I started to tremble and shake.

“Where am I? How… how did I get here?” I glanced around in shock. I was in some kind of hut, with no door. Outside, the trees were lush and verdant. It looked like the middle of summer.

I shivered.

The woman didn’t answer. She stepped closer and cocked her head to the side. “Yes… yes, you’ll do,” she said. “I admit I had my doubts, but yes, this should work.”

“What are you talking about?” I shook with fear as I spoke. I reached for the rough blanket over me and wrapped it snugly around my body.

“Child, you couldn’t possibly have caught a chill,” the woman said. She shook her head. “Tis eternal summer.”

I blinked at her. What the heck is going on. I bit my lip, sneaking furtive glances around. The last thing I remember… fuck! What happened?

“Your friend has delivered you to the coven,” the woman said. “I’m Ligeia—I’m the High Priestess.”

I shivered, but my fear slowly ebbed.

“I know,” I said. I hadn’t known—at least, not until she’d told me. But somehow, deep down, I’d known, like an instinct.

“Come, child,” Ligeia said. “There is much to do.”

When I crawled out of bed, I realized my joints were stiff and ached.

“Where’s Monica?”

Ligeia didn’t reply. She put her wizened hands on my shoulders and guided me to the stone hearth. A small black cauldron boiled, and the air closer to the fire smelled bitter, spicy, and herbaceous.

“Give me your hand, child,” Ligeia said. Without waiting for my consent, she took my hand and turned it palm up, studying the fine lines and wrinkles.

When she didn’t speak for a few seconds, I felt nervous.

“What are you looking for?” I asked, feeling dumb.

Ligeia tossed her white hair over one bony shoulder. “I cannot say.”

I narrowed my eyes. Before I could reply, Ligeia pulled a knife from the folds of her robes. I gasped—it was identical to the knife that Monica and I’d found in the woods by her house, months ago. The morning after that disastrous party. I shivered. That seems like such a long time ago.

Ligeia sliced the air with the knife, closing her eyes dramatically and inhaling the steam from the cauldron. Then she gripped my hand tighter than before. She sliced my palm with the knife, then squeezed the ripped flesh and flipped my hand upside down over the fire. I gasped in pain as blood dripped from my palm. When it landed against the hot fireplace, it sizzled. The air was filled with the smell of iron and meat and I coughed, closing my eyes. Still, Ligeia kept a firm grip on my hand.

“The pain will pass, child,” Ligeia said. She finally released me and I snapped my arm back, cradling it against my chest.

“Ouch,” I mumbled. “What the heck was that for?”

Ligeia didn’t answer—I got the feeling that she only spoke when it amused her to do so. She rose from her kneeling position, then walked over to a small table and smashed something green with a mortar and pestle. For a few moments, the hut was filled with the sound of Ligeia scraping the herbs to a fine pulp. When she was finished, she poured the herbs into her hand and walked over to me.

“Give me your hand,” Ligeia said. Again, she took my wrist before I was ready to consent. As she rubbed the herbal mixture into the cut on my palm, I squirmed and twisted.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Ligeia said, obviously annoyed. “Come, child. Tell me—are you really in pain?”

I looked down at my oozing wound, ready to say yes. But then I realized she was absolutely right—somehow, the pain had completely vanished. I couldn’t believe my eyes—my skin had sealed itself back together in a matter of seconds.

“What… how… what happened?” I gasped, clutching my hand. “How did you do that?”

Ligeia’s lips curled into a faint smile.

“Come,” she said. “As I said, there is much to do.”

Ligeia led me out of the small hut and into a clearing filled with lush, soft grass. She pointed at the ground.

“Sit,” Ligeia said. “The others will arrive shortly.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to relax. The ordeal in the hut hadn’t been that bad—but what if that was just the beginning? I shivered as I realized that I’d never once asked Monica exactly what kind of things would happen if the coven decided to initiate me.

I’m sure she wouldn’t have brought me anywhere dangerous. I glanced around, trying to see my best friend. I mean, she wouldn’t have done that. Right?

Still, I didn’t feel much calmer. Ligeia and I sat together in silence. She crossed her legs under her robes and cocked her head to the side.

“Tell me, child, how many years are you?”

“Fifteen,” I said nervously. “Same as Monica.”

Ligeia nodded slowly. “She is elder,” she said.

“Not by much,” I said quickly. “Just a couple of months.”

“I don’t mean in age,” Ligeia replied. “Monica is a serious soul.”

“I know.”

It felt strange to be discussing my best friend with someone I’d never met. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy—did Ligeia know Monica better than I? Did Monica prefer being with the coven to being at home? Before all of this crazy stuff had started happening, I would’ve thought Monica was one of the most well-adjusted people I’d ever met.

But now I seriously wondered.

“The others are arriving,” Ligeia said in a low voice.

I glanced around, twisting and craning my neck. “I don’t see anyone.”

“Hush,” Ligeia said sternly. “Close your eyes. Open your mind. Listen.”

Frowning, I closed my eyes and tried to listen. I felt like an idiot sitting there, rolling my head on my neck. But then, I heard the faint but unmistakable sound of footsteps crunching through the woods. My heart skipped a beat and I shivered.

The low sound of chanting filled my ears and goose flesh broke out all over my body. Soon, I could feel the air swishing from the motions of the others.

“Now, child, open your eyes,” Ligeia said. “But don’t move until I instruct you.”

I opened my eyes and gasped. An old man—he looked ancient, at least as old as Ligeia—with wrinkled skin and dark eyes stood directly in front of me. Ligeia stood and the man kneeled at the ground, kissing her through her robes right where her pelvis would be.

“Priestess,” the man whispered. Ligeia closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and placed her hand on the top of his white head. They stood like that together, frozen in time and space, for such a long time that I started to wonder whether or not they were actually breathing. Then the moment broke. Ligeia pulled her hand back to her side and the man climbed to his feet.

I’d been so busy staring at the weird little display that I hadn’t noticed multiple other people filter into the clearing. They were all clad in black robes, with hoods covering their heads. They formed a loose circle around me. I tried to look for Monica, but she was nowhere in sight.

Ligeia beckoned to me. “Come, child,” she said.

I stood and walked over to her on two unsteady legs. Ligeia pulled at the rough homespun material of my robe, pulling it over my head and tossing it to the ground. I cried out, covering my body with both hands in an attempt to shield my breasts and pubic triangle.

“Like this,” Ligeia said. She took my hands and pressed them down at my sides. My face burned with shame and embarrassment. I couldn’t see the faces of the robed people, but being naked while everyone else was still clothed made me deeply uncomfortable. I groaned under my breath.

“Come, Henrik,” Ligeia said to the old man. He stepped forward and I gasped when I saw that he carried a wooden bowl full of thick, red liquid.

Ligeia dipped the point of her knife into the liquid, then pressed it lightly to my skin. I cried out, thinking that she meant to cut. But the blade of the knife almost tickled as she dragged it in light lines over my naked, quivering belly. I shook with fear as she traced a symbol in red on my pale skin.

“The pentagram represents us, child,” Ligeia said calmly. “The elements of the earth—that is from where we draw our strength. We must never harm the earth, we must never anger the Goddess.”

I glanced down. There was a five-pointed star painted in dripping paint on my belly. When I breathed, the points of the star quivered and shook.

Ligeia touched one of my shoulders with the blade of her knife, lying it against my skin. I squirmed—the sharp edge of the blade was now dangerously close to my neck—but Ligeia pressed the flat blade firmly into my skin.

“You must swear your loyalty,” Ligeia said. “You must swear to obey the coven, to obey the earth.”

I nodded.

“Say it, child.”

“I’ll obey,” I said in a shaky voice. “I’ll be forever loyal to the coven.”

This time, my answer seemed to satisfy Ligeia. She tucked the knife away. It still felt strange to be standing there naked, but oddly I felt myself relaxing—almost as if I’d taken some kind of a powerful drug.

Henrik, the old man, waved his hand through the air. As if on perfect cue, the robed people began to chant and sway. They moved in a slow circle around me, joining hands and moving rhythmically back and forth as they sang in a low, dull tone that filled me with dread.

My mind slipped away and soon, it was a struggle to stay standing with my eyes open. Ligeia’s blue eyes flashed and she stepped forward, handing me an earthenware mug filled with a potent-smelling brew.

“Drink, child. Drink until the mug is emptied.”

I swallowed nervously as Ligeia held the cup to my lips. At first, I couldn’t taste anything. Then a bitter, unpleasant shock exploded in my mouth and I shuddered. I choked on the liquid but Ligeia pinched my nose with two fingers and tilted my head back, forcing the liquid into my mouth and down my throat. When it was done, I felt like my whole digestive system was on fire. Tears filled my eyes and I coughed, choking hard when Ligeia took the mug away.

“Sleep, now,” Ligeia said. She waved her hand over my face. Like magic, I dropped to the ground and curled up in the soft grass. My vision grew hazy and it was a struggle to keep my eyes open. The robed people still chanted and sung, and it seemed like the sounds blurred together as I curled my arms around my legs.

That was the last thing I remember before I fell asleep.

---

When I woke, my head ached and my limbs felt swollen and sore. Everything hurt. My nose, my cheeks, my lips—even my eyelashes seemed to ache with every throb of my heartbeat. I lay in bed, in the hut, but this time it was dark. The hut was filled with a warm, smoky, almost sweet smell.

“Child, you’ve awakened,” Ligeia said.

I stared at her. “I feel awful,” I mumbled. “God, I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Ligeia nodded. “It’s a side effect,” she said.

“Of what?” Trying to think back was like wading through a fog. “What did… was that drink drugged?”

Ligeia smiled faintly, but she didn’t reply.

“What the hell?” I said.

“You did promise your loyalty.”

Fuck.

I nodded. “Right,” I said. “Look, is Monica here? I want to talk to her.”

Ligeia didn’t reply. “How are you feeling?”

“I told you, I feel fucking terrible,” I said in exasperation. “What’s going on? What did you do to me?”

“We initiated you,” Ligeia said. She raised an eyebrow and for a second, I had the oddest feeling that she was judging me.

“Obviously,” I snapped.

“Soon you’ll return to your world; you’ve been gone a long time,” Ligeia said.

“And then what?” I narrowed my eyes. “Look… I wanted to join because I thought I could help, you know, with Jaffrey,” I said. “How am I supposed to do anything if I’m not even here?”

“We’ll summon you when you’re needed,” Ligeia said.

“But I won’t be able to come back on my own?”

Ligeia shook her head. “No,” she said. “You’ll only be able to find the coven on your own after you become much more powerful.”

“But how am I supposed to become more powerful if you send me away?”

Ligeia gave me an odd look. “What is it with you children now?” she said. “So argumentative. Are you no longer instructed to obey your elders?”

I blushed.

“Just trust me, child,” Ligeia said. “Henrik and I are much older, and much wiser. We know that what we’re doing is for the best of everyone involved.”

I blinked. “Things are so… bad at home,” I said softly. “I can’t go back there. What if something happens to me and I can’t get back? Or what if something happens to Monica?”

“Trust me, child,” Ligeia said. “I won’t allow anything to go wrong.”

But things are already going wrong. I thought back to the terror that had suddenly become my hometown. Things are much worse than I ever could have imagined.

“I know, you don’t believe me,” Ligeia said.

“Stop reading my mind,” I snapped.

Ligeia tutted. Just as I was about to say something else, she clapped her hands three times. The room was filled with an inky, dark smoke that filled my senses and made me cough.

“Ligeia,” I cried loudly. “I can’t breathe! Help!”

The smoke only grew more intense and soon, all I could see were swirls of black in front of my eyes. I felt strange, like my stomach was about to drop out of my body, and when I reached out to steady myself, my hands only groped air.

The smoke faded but the weird sensation in my belly grew stronger and stronger. I cried out for help, desperately trying to anchor myself to the ground but then I realized I was falling.

When the smoke finally cleared, I landed hard on something soft and firm.

I gasped.

I was no longer in the woods.

I was in my bed.

Chapter Two

It took me a moment to realize that Ligeia had somehow transported me instantly from the coven to my bedroom. How had she done that? And furthermore, why the heck hadn’t Monica told me that things would be so… weird?

I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, honestly. My knowledge of witches and witchcraft was pretty limited. Mom and Dad didn’t like me watching scary movies—I’d loved them when I was a kid, but after I started having nightmares, Mom said no more. It felt a little ridiculous… after all, I wasn’t a kid anymore.

But I couldn’t lie—the whole initiation process had spooked the hell out of me.

I hadn’t been in my room for more than five seconds when the door opened. Mom stepped inside, glancing around.

“Oh, you’re back,” she said.

I frowned. “Uh…”

Mom shook her head. “Don’t worry about making excuses,” she said in a strangely toneless voice. “I don’t need to know, Elizabeth.”

“I’m sorry, I was—”

Mom held up her hand. I noticed that her eyes looked strangely glassy.

“Really, Elizabeth, it’s fine. Just don’t fall behind in school.” Mom yawned. “You feel like having dinner with us downstairs?”

My stomach was still weak and aching from whatever poison Ligeia had fed me, but I didn’t want to make any waves. I couldn’t believe my mom was acting so casually—normally she was the type to freak if I was gone for more than a few hours.

“Um, Mom,” I said, sliding off my bed and stretching. “How long was I gone?”

My mom turned to me and cocked her head to the side. “I… I don’t know,” she said. “A few weeks?” She shrugged. “I figured you and Monica were off, doing something fun. Anything would be better than hanging around here,” she added. “So, it’s not really like I can be mad, huh?”

I stared. Am I dreaming, I wondered as I looked around my room. But the clock on the wall seemed to be correct, and my computer screen looked normal. Appliances don’t work in dreams. So this must be real. But why is she acting so strangely?

“Are you okay, honey?”

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Mom nodded. “Okay, honey,” she said. “You look a little pale.”

You think, I thought sarcastically. I’ve been stranded in the woods for weeks with a bunch of weirdo witches who literally poisoned me.

Mom gave me a tentative smile, then walked out of my room, leaving the door open. As soon as she was down the hall, I quickly shut my door and lifted my shirt.

There was no trace of Ligeia’s pentagram, or the red paint.

Weird.

I went down to dinner, half-expecting it to be a set-up where my mom unleashed anger at me for being gone so long. But if anything, it was one of the most normal dinners we’d ever had. Dad had his nose stuck in a paper, and my younger brother, Aidan, spent the whole time complaining.

When Mom mentioned something about a militia, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

“What’s going on?” I tried to keep my voice as casual as possible. “Did something else happen?”

Mom sighed. “Oh, honey—jeez, I’m glad you were gone for so long. You weren’t around to see all of this.”

I narrowed my eyes. “All of… what?”

Mom bit her lip. “The neighbors went missing,” she said. “At least… that’s what your father and I thought.”

I stared at her. There were so many inconsistencies that I had no idea where I should even begin. For one thing, why did my mom care more about the neighbors vanishing than her own daughter? And had it occurred to her that they could have kidnapped me? Something very unusual is going on. I bit my lip, squirming in my seat.

“Did they come home?” I asked quietly.

Mom shook her head. “Linda died,” she said.

“What?” My jaw dropped. “She was so young! They’d only been married for what, like five years?”

Mom nodded. “Yes,” she said. “There was a coroner’s hearse at the house with a plain coffin. No funeral.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “It wasn’t allowed,” she added.

A chill ran down my spine. “What?”

“Yes,” Mom said hesitantly. She glanced at Aidan, but he was too concerned poking his food. “She… well, honey, she was accused of witchcraft. Her body was burned.”

I swallowed. The food in my mouth turned to ash as I stared at my mother in disbelief.

“You’re kidding,” I said softly.

“No,” Mom said. She sighed. “It was terrible.”

I licked my lips and forced myself to swallow. “I should really start to get caught up on homework,” I said. “I probably missed a lot.”

Mom nodded. She still had that faraway, dreamy look in her eyes. “Yes,” she said. “That’s a good idea.”

I shivered as I climbed the stairs and locked myself in my room. I had no intention of doing my homework. Instead, I grabbed my phone and dialed Monica.

Come on, I prayed as the phone rang and rang. Come on, pick up! I need to talk to you!

Monica’s voicemail came on and I sighed in disgust, hanging up before the chance to leave a message. Just as I was about to pull on my jacket and start the walk over to her house, my phone buzzed.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” Monica said quickly. “What’s up?”

“Are you home right now?”

“Not exactly.”

“Are you with David?”

“Elizabeth, what’s up?” Monica said. She sounded weary. “Did you just get back?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Look, I really need to talk to you. What the fuck is going on with my parents?”

Monica sighed. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I can’t meet up right now. I’m working.”

“On what?”

There was a pause and I swallowed hard.

“Oh,” I said quietly.

“Yeah,” Monica said. “I’m sorry—I’m working with Henrik right now, and I can’t really take time off. We have to figure things out.”

“I see. How did you know I called then? You can’t possibly have a phone in the co—the you know,” I said quickly.

“I sensed it.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You must be getting stronger.”

“Yes.”

I sighed. “Okay. I’m sorry… I just… it feels really weird to be back here. My parents are acting like zombies and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do in order to help them.”

“It’s because of Henrik,” Monica said quietly. “It’s… something he does. Remember when you went to see Jamie and Brian last fall?”

“Oh.” I felt like an idiot. Why didn’t I realize they were being manipulated, I thought angrily.

“Yeah. Look, Elizabeth—I’ve got to go. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay.” A lump formed in my throat. I’d so been looking forward to seeing my best friend again that I felt a sudden wave of intense sadness.

“Bye.”

“Bye,” I echoed.

Monica hung up and I flopped down on my bed, closing my eyes. This is so fucked up. I can’t even talk to the only other person in town who knows what’s going on… and it’s Henrik’s fault. Damn that old man, I added silently, snuggling into the blankets and resting my head on the pillows.

Damn him.

---

The next morning, I got dressed and decided that I’d set out in search of the coven. Ligeia had told me that I wouldn’t be able to find it on my own, but I wondered if she’d been lying.

But hours later, after walking in literal circles, I felt discouraged. The sun sunk low in the sky by the time I got back home. Just as I was about to cross my yard and go into the garage, I heard a car pull up behind me. Great. This is seriously just what I need. I held my hands in the air, prepared to be dragged to jail once again.

“Elizabeth?”

That didn’t sound like a cop.

Turning around, I saw Steven standing there with a big, goofy grin on his face. “I thought that was you,” he added. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” I lied. “How are you?”

Steven stepped closer. His eyes sparkled with something… strange, something I’d only seen once before. A chill ran down my spine when I recognized the intense look—Steven had looked the exact same way, right before we’d had sex for the first (and only) time.

“I’m great now that you’re here,” Steven said. He grinned. “I missed you. Where did you go, anyway?”

“I stayed with a cousin,” I lied. “My, uh, my mom thought it would be good for me to get out town for a few days.”

Steven laughed. “More like a few weeks,” he said. He stepped closer and reached for my hand. When our fingers touched, a shock crossed from his touch to mine. “You really know how to drive a guy wild,” he added. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

I blushed. This is new. Why is being like this? He’s normally so… standoffish!

“Come on,” Steven said. He glanced mournfully into my eyes. “Don’t tell me—you didn’t miss me, too?”

I bit my lip. “Of course I did,” I said quietly. “I really missed being home.”

Steven fell silent for a minute. When he leaned in to kiss me, I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around his neck. His nose was cold against my cheek, but his lips were warm and dry and safe somehow, almost like I’d found a refuge from the storm raging in my mind.

“Mn,” Steven purred into my mouth. He put his hands on my waist and pulled me closer. Just as I started to relax, the sound of a police siren made me leap backwards. Steven groaned as we both put our hands into the air.

“It’s barely dark,” I grumbled under my breath. “When is this stupid curfew going to end?”

The air was filled with blueberry and cherry lights, flashing on and off in a frantic pattern that made me want to vomit. As the car slowed to a stop, a portly cop got out and cocked his head to the side.

“Elizabeth Hartsell?”

“Yeah,” I said miserably. “I know. I broke curfew.”

“Don’t you live right there?”

I frowned. “Yeah,” I said. “Do you want me to get my mom?”

“No. That’s fine, you go on inside.”

I snuck a glance at Steven. His jaw hung open—he was clearly as surprised as I felt.

“What about Steven?”

“You leave Mr. D’Amico to me,” the cop said, speaking harshly to him for the first time.

“He was just leaving,” I said quickly. “We weren’t doing anything wrong.”

“Elizabeth, I told you to go in the house,” the cop said.

I blinked. He’s not even looking at me. What the hell is going on?

“Elizabeth, go,” Steven said in a low voice. He didn’t tear his eyes away from the uniformed officer. “I’ll deal with this, okay? Just go inside.”

Reluctantly, I wrapped my arms around my torso and walked quickly into my house. The downstairs was dark and silent, and I snuck into the living room and peeped out the front blinds, waiting to see what would happen.

I couldn’t hear the cop’s voice—or Steven’s—but judging from their body language, I knew something bad was about to happen. Sure enough, after a minute or two of arguing back and forth, the cop tied Steven’s hands with zip ties and herded him into the back of his car. As they pulled away, the sounds of the siren made me shiver.

“Elizabeth?”

I jumped a foot into the air, gasping and clutching my chest.

“Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Mom said. She was frowning. “What are you doing all by yourself in the dark?”

I bit my lip. Then I remembered what Monica had told me. Might as well tell her the truth. It’s not like she’s going to be mad.

“I was out walking and I ran into Steven,” I said slowly. “A cop pulled up but he just told me to go inside, even though I broke curfew. But he took Steven,” I added. “His car is still out there.”

Mom frowned. “Maybe the officer figured you’d learned your lesson?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I guess,” I mumbled. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Okay, honey,” Mom chirped. I wondered if she knew it was only seven-thirty. “Sleep well. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

I nodded and climbed the stairs. I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep, but I wanted to be away from everything that was going on. My life was turning into some kind of weird fantasy movie, and I couldn’t wait for the credits to start rolling.

The next morning, I was shocked when Steven’s name flashed across my cell phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Elizabeth,” Steven said. He sounded warm and happy. “You want to take a walk?”

I frowned. “What happened last night?”

“Oh, yeah, that wasn’t so bad…” Steven trailed off. “I wasn’t held for very long. Andrea came downtown and they let me go.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course she did.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them—Steven would probably snap at me and tell me I didn’t know what I was talking about.

“Yeah,” Steven agreed. “She can be a little much sometimes.”

My jaw dropped in shock.

“So, Elizabeth, can I see you? I really miss you,” Steven added.

“Okay. Um, do you want to meet at my house?”

“Sure. I’ll walk over and just take my car home with me.”

When we hung up the phone, I raced into the bathroom and tried to make my hair look presentable. After a light coat of mascara and a swipe of neutral lipstick, I didn’t think I looked too bad. I can’t believe he’s so excited to see me. To be honest, I wasn’t as happy about Steven’s attention as I knew I should be. If anything, it just felt weird. Maybe I should go away more often.

But thinking about going away just reminded me of the coven, and of Monica. I missed her so badly that it hurt.

By the time Steven knocked on my front door, I was deeply in thought about my friend. Thinking about the details of the coven was hard—everything was a blur in my mind—but I felt more frustrated than ever. I didn’t understand why Henrik and Ligeia had agreed to initiate me if they wouldn’t even need my help.

It just didn’t make sense.

“Hey, earth to Elizabeth,” Steven said. He snapped his fingers in front of my face. “You okay? You’re really spacing out.”

“Yeah, sorry,” I said. “I was just… thinking about my cousin, that’s all.”

“I hope you didn’t meet any guys while you were gone,” Steven said.

I stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Of course I’m not kidding,” Steven said. “I really like you, Elizabeth,” he said. He grabbed my hand and I blinked as his eyes filled with passion.

“I like you, too,” I said quietly. I still did—but somehow, this change in Steven was alarming… even more alarming than the other stuff going on in my life. What the hell did he want from me, exactly?

“This is nice,” Steven replied. He guided me into the woods, along a shady path. The day was mild for winter—some of the snow and ice was finally starting to melt—but I couldn’t help remembering the vivid green grass of the coven. It hadn’t occurred to me at the time, but suddenly I knew that everything had been magicked together. I shivered. And the initiation, I thought nervously. Was that magick, too?

“Elizabeth, hey,” Steven said. He glared at me. “What’s with you? Your mind is all over the place today. I’ve been talking to you for like, five minutes and you’ve barely even nodded.”

I frowned. “Sorry,” I said. “I guess I’m feeling a little distracted.”

“No shit,” Steven muttered under his breath. He led me into a dark grove of trees and pulled me close, kissing me deeply. I kissed him back, but all the while my mind kept wandering. Henrik. Ligeia. The Coven. Monica. The other witches. Andrea.

What did it all mean?

When cold air hit my bare stomach, I yelped and opened my eyes. Steven had lifted my shirt and he stroked my belly, right where Ligeia had painted the pentagram.

“You’re so hot,” Steven growled. He tried fumbling with the snap of my jeans but I pushed his hand away.

“I don’t think we should,” I said, glancing around. The truth was, I’d never felt less turned on in my whole life.

“Why not?” Steven grinned. He took my hands and held them over my head, pressing me against a tree and kissing me deeply. After a few seconds, he pulled away and narrowed his eyes. “What’s your problem?” Steven asked. “What’s wrong?”

I shrugged, feeling helpless. “I don’t know,” I said. “Look, I’m sorry—I just don’t feel like doing this right now.”

Desperate lust flickered in Steven’s eyes. “Elizabeth, I need you,” he growled. “Come on, it’s been weeks!”

I stared at him and yanked my hands free, putting them on my hips and tugging down my shirt.

“It’s not my responsibility to get you off,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “You’re not being very respectful.”

“I love you, Elizabeth,” Steven said urgently. “I need you. Right now, come on. No one will know, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble. I’ll tell Andrea to help you, so don’t worry.”

My jaw dropped. He’s seriously going to fuck me and then have his sister try to save me? When she’s clearly obsessed with him?

“Elizabeth, I’m serious,” Steven said. He leaned in to kiss me again but I darted to the side and he wound up with a mouthful of my hair. “What’s your fucking problem?” Steven snapped.

I pushed him away with more force than necessary. Steven staggered backwards and looked up at me with wide eyes. For a moment, I felt bad—he looked like a lost little puppy. But then he glared and the tiny amount of sympathy in my heart vanished.

“You’re a tease,” Steven said coldly. “If you loved me, you’d sleep with me.”

I shook my head. “Steven, I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “But right now, I don’t know what I want.”

Turning on my heel, I broke into a run and started out of the forest. Behind me, I could hear Steven wailing and ranting in frustration, but I never turned around.

Not once.

Something really weird is going on. I stumbled through the woods in a blind panic. I didn’t know what was happening… but I feared the worst. Obviously, something had taken hold of Steven while I was away. The tables had finally turned—now he was the one desperately pursuing me. And even though I know I should’ve been happy, all I felt was fright.

Chapter Three

Monica

I was spending so much time with Henrik that I hadn’t been to school in over three weeks.

Not that it really mattered—Andrea’s crazy witch hunt had effectively shut Jaffrey down. The only kids who even went to school anymore were the small ones, in elementary school. And because Andrea was such a master fucking manipulator, no one even thought of it.

If we get out of this, I’m going to have to repeat the tenth grade, I thought angrily. What a crock of shit.

Henrik had left me with a grave warning. “Time is running out,” he’d said. “And you must act quickly if you want to win.”

“You keep saying that,” I’d replied, obviously annoyed. “Come on, how much worse can things get?”

Henrik’s next words chilled me to the bone. “You must follow her,” he’d said. “You must begin to make a plan to end her life.”

So now, I was reduced to following Andrea D’Amico around like some kind of third-rate private investigator. It galled me—I didn’t even have a car, how the hell was I supposed to stalk someone successfully? Why couldn’t this have happened after I got my license, I lamented as I left Jamie and Brian’s house, just before sunrise. It would have been a lot more comfortable, at least.

I’d barely had any time to myself in weeks. I hadn’t talked to David in days, and I felt guilty about ignoring Elizabeth… but it wasn’t like I could call her and talk magick. Everyone knew that the phone lines around town were still bugged, and I wasn’t about to risk ruining anything further, just for the sake of a friendship.

Just then, I remembered something Ligeia had told me once. “Magick is cold,” she’d said. “Don’t expect it to keep you warm.”

I shivered.

By the time I got to the D’Amicos’ house, the sun was almost up. I snuck into the bushes and sat down with my knees to my chest and my arms wrapped around them. This is ridiculous. I can’t believe I’m staking her out like a freaking sniper.

I didn’t have to wait long. After I’d been hiding for about twenty minutes, the front door opened. Andrea skipped out, looking happy and summery. There was a wide smile fixed on her face that made me shiver. Before all of this shit had started happening, Andrea had only smiled like that when she talked about church.

And she’d never smiled like that at me.

“Mother,” Andrea called.

I ducked further down into the bush, covering my face with leaves.

“Yes, darling?” Mrs. D’Amico came out of the house, her eyes glazed and shiny. “What can I do for you?”

“Mother, I feel like going to the police station,” Andrea said. “Will you drive me downtown?”

I shivered as Andrea’s grin grew a shade wider.

“Anything you’d like,” Mrs. D’Amico said in a mechanical voice. “Anything for you, darling.”

“Good,” Andrea said. Her smile was momentarily replaced by the biggest smirk I’d ever seen. “I want to have everyone start praying and repenting in jail. They won’t be allowed to go anymore, at least, not until they’ve properly shown forgiveness. Did you know that four more teenagers were apprehended last night?”

“No, darling, I had no idea.” As she approached the driveway, Mrs. D’Amico’s eyes grew even glassier. “What a wonderful idea.”

“I know,” Andrea said in a sing-song voice.

As the two passed by the bushes, I shuddered. This is getting worse, I realized when Andrea and her mother climbed into a car and drove away. Henrik was right.

Once the car had left, I darted into the woods and made straight for the coven. Henrik and Ligeia told me that I’d been getting much stronger lately. While I didn’t necessarily believe them, I did have a much easier time finding their secret magick place. This time, it only took me fifteen minutes.

Henrik didn’t look surprised to see me. “Child,” he said. “You have news.”

I told him what I’d heard and he sighed heavily, resting his chin on his fist. I wasn’t sure how old Henrik was—ancient, probably—but he did look as though he’d aged ten years in the past week or so. I knew this put an intense strain on him… and I almost felt guilty about it.

“She’s controlling everyone,” I said, shaking my head and flopping down in the grass. “She’s nuts.”

“Yes, child,” Henrik said. “And you know the solution, don’t you?”

My stomach rumbled. “We have to kill her.”

“Not just kill her, per se,” Henrik said slowly. “You must cut out her heart, and then the coven must burn it. That is the only way the spirit of Prudence will finally pass on. We must destroy her heart.”

I shivered. “How am I supposed to do that?”

Henrik shrugged. “You’re a smart child,” he said. “You’ll figure it out. Trust me.”

I shrugged. “I don’t feel very smart right now,” I said. I shuddered again. The air of the magicked clearing was warm, but a chill passed through my body at the thought of committing such a terrible, violent act.

“You’ll know when the time has come,” Henrik said. He sighed.

“I don’t know that I can do this,” I said quickly. “Can’t anyone else? What if I pointed you right to her and then someone else from the coven took care of it?”

Henrik shook his head. “It has to be you. She is your sworn enemy, and you’re the only one strong enough to resist her control.”

I narrowed my eyes.

Monica, you must not lose confidence in yourself,” Henrik continued. “I know that it sounds brutal—and believe me, it is. But this is no longer your choice. It’s your fate.”

I sighed heavily, my shoulders sagging with the effort. “I know,” I said. “I just hate the idea of killing.”

“You’ll feel differently once the task at hand has been completed,” Henrik said. “I promise, Monica.”

“You’d better be right,” I mumbled. I got to my feet and brushed my hands off on my thighs, preparing to go back to Jaffrey.

“And Monica?”

“Yeah?” I turned around. “What?”

“David can take care of himself.”

“What?” I narrowed my eyes. “What does that even mean?”

Henrik’s expression grew solemn. “He was arrested, just now,” he said. “For attempting to sneak into Jaffrey and contact you.”

My heart sank and my stomach twisted into knots. All thoughts of apprehension vanished and I balled my hands into angry fists.

“That bitch,” I spat through clenched teeth.

“Yes,” Henrik said. He nodded. For the first time, he gave me an approving glance. “You know what you must do.”

I’m coming for you, Prudence, I thought, picturing Andrea’s sickly sweet smile. And this time, you won’t be able to escape.

---

As soon as I got back to Jaffrey, I knew that I had to work fast. I waited all day, hiding in a crouched position outside of the D’Amicos, for Andrea to return. Knowing that she was forcing David to beg forgiveness angered me more than almost anything that had happened so far. She’s a little self-righteous bitch, I thought from my hiding place. And I’m going to make sure that this stops.

Soon.

I waited for hours, pinching myself to stay awake. Finally, Andrea appeared in the driveway. Thankfully, she was alone. She skipped and sang under her breath—some kind of ancient-sounding nursery rhyme that sent me into a cold panic. Suddenly, I wondered if I’d be able to do it. When the time came, would I actually be able to take a life?

Andrea skipped up the drive and onto the porch. I waited for a few seconds as I listened to the sound of her fumbling with her own keys to let herself inside. As soon as I heard the swing of the door, I leapt up and ran onto the porch.

Andrea turned and gasped when she saw me. Her smile faded and she pressed her lips into an angry, thin line.

“What are you doing here?” Andrea growled.

I swallowed hard. Her voice sounded at least twice as deep as normal, and it was uncanny to hear such a low sound coming from such a petite body.

“You know,” I said. I stepped forward and reached into my bag. As soon as my fingers closed around my athame, I dropped the bag and brandished the blade.

“You think you’re going to kill me?” Andrea laughed. “Nice try. You can’t.”

“I can,” I growled, advancing and holding my blade high. “And I will.”

Monica’s eyes flashed with an ancient fire. “You won’t,” she said. “You won’t get away with this.”

Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I moved forward for the attack. As soon as I leapt into the air and tried to plunge the knife towards Andrea, she grabbed my wrists with surprising strength. We landed on the floor together in a heap of tangled limbs, and I could barely breathe before Andrea swung a hard punch at my jaw.

Andrea’s fist connected with the side of my face and I cried out in pain. My heart thumped and for the first time in what felt like weeks, I felt very real fear stinging me. This could be it. This could be the end.

“You… can’t… kill… me,” Andrea growled. She made a mad swipe for my throat and I knocked her away, sending her frail body crashing to the floor. But before I could get up, Andrea pounced on me again and pinned me down. She glared at me with triumph as she reached for my athame and held it in one hand.

“You think you’re so fast,” Andrea said, her eyes glittering. “But you don’t know anything, Monica. You don’t know anything about how strong I really am.”

I reached for my knife but Andrea put her hand around my throat and squeezed. Spots of black and yellow flashed in front of my vision and I cried out as she tightened her grip, trying to squeeze the air out of my body.

“Gah,” I gurgled, frantically swinging my arms and trying to attack. I could barely form words, and I felt lightheaded. This is the end, I realized with a frantic kind of clarity. This is it. I’m going to die. I can’t take her over—I’m not strong enough.

Andrea leaned over me and glared, narrowing her eyes. Her childlike face suddenly took on sinister shadowing, and she curled her lips into a demonic smile. Just as I felt the last breath leave my body, Andrea released her grip and leapt to her feet.

“I’ll let you live,” she sneered. “This time.”

Coughing and hacking, I rolled onto my side and covered my mouth with my hands. My face burned bright red and I was still weak, but I got to my feet and made a grab for the athame. Andrea kicked it out of the way and my heart sank as I saw it sliding under her living room couch.

“No more knife for you,” Andrea said. She snickered. “You weren’t even strong enough to use it, Monica. You’re pathetic,” she sneered.

I scrambled to my feet.

“Go on,” Andrea said. “You can leave.” She smiled smugly and I felt a surge of hatred stronger than anything else I’d ever felt. “Just know that next time, you won’t be so lucky.”

“There won’t be a next time,” I growled under my breath as I walked to the front door. Because the next time, you’ll be dead, I added in my head.

Andrea burst out laughing. Her shrill cackles made my eardrums ache. Even after I’d left her house and started running to Elizabeth’s, I could still hear her voice in my ears.

“Monica…”

A ghastly voice surrounded me and I stopped, gazing in every direction.

“Monica… Monica… You must act quickly…”

“Henrik?” I called loudly, feeling like a complete idiot for speaking to thin air. “Is that you?”

“Monica… she will triumph…”

I shuddered and broke into an achingly fast run, all the way to Elizabeth’s. When I got there, I burst inside without even knocking.

Elizabeth was sitting on the couch. She gave me a startled look before leaping up and pulling me into a tight hug.

“What the hell?” Elizabeth demanded as she hugged me tightly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and pulled her up the stairs. As soon as we were in her room, with the door locked safely behind us, I turned to her and burst into tears.

Elizabeth gazed at me with alarm. “Oh, my God,” she said. She handed me a box of tissues. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry before. What happened? Something with David?”

“Are your parents home?”

“No, not for hours,” Elizabeth said. “Neither is Aidan.”

In fits and starts and gasps, I told her the whole story. Henrik, the humiliating way Andrea had defeated me so easily… even Mrs. D’Amico and her creepy, glassy eyes.

“She’s manipulating everyone,” I said. “And it must be bad, because Henrik broke the veil to tell me. He’s never done that before—it’s too risky.”

Elizabeth nodded slowly. She made a sour face. “We have to cut her heart out?”

“Yeah.” I wrinkled my nose. “I know, it sounds hateful. Henrik says it’s the only way.”

“Henrik’s creepy.”

I laughed. “You… you get used to him after a while.”

“And Ligeia is so intense. She doesn’t answer any questions,” Elizabeth added, shrugging dramatically. “She just acts the way she thinks is best.”

I sighed. “I know.” I bit my lip. “Elizabeth… how the hell are we supposed to do this?”

Elizabeth sighed. She furrowed her brow and ran her hands through her long hair, pulling it into a messy bun at the side of her head.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “But Steven’s been acting so weird lately, ever since I got back. He’s like, totally obsessed with me.”

“I thought that was what you wanted?”

Elizabeth frowned. “I thought I did,” she said slowly. “But now… I don’t know. It feels so weird. I can’t think about him. Not with all of this shit going on. It’s too much, Monica.”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “I know.”

“Maybe we could like, trap her,” Elizabeth suggested. “And bring her to the coven. And Henrik and Ligeia could take care of this, like we wouldn’t have to actually kill anyone.”

“I had the same thought, but I don’t think it will work.” My stomach twisted with anxiety. “I think we have to do it ourselves.”

Elizabeth frowned.

“It’s not actually like, taking a life, though,” I said. “I mean, think of it like this—Andrea is basically possessed.”

“But we’re still killing her body,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Andrea wouldn’t have wanted this.”

I shrugged. I didn’t really care, but I wasn’t about to say that.

“I don’t know,” I said. “You just have to think of her as embodied by this evil spirit. I mean, Elizabeth, the spirit of Prudence has tortured people for centuries. And we’d be stopping that. Wouldn’t that be a good thing?”

“Why us?” Elizabeth said softly. “Why do we have to do it?”

I sighed. “Because you said you wanted to help,” I said. “You told me you didn’t want me to do this alone, remember?”

“I don’t,” Elizabeth said. “But I don’t get why we have to do it at all. Wouldn’t it make more sense to, oh, I don’t know—leave it to the professionals?”

I laughed humorlessly. “There are no professionals when it comes to magick,” I said quietly. “Except maybe Ligeia.”

“She should do it. It’s her sister.”

“She can’t,” I explained. “The bond between them is too strong. She could only accomplish the task if she sacrificed herself.”

“Well, maybe that would be better than having us do it,” Elizabeth grumbled.

“Hey…” I bit my lip. “You said Steven is really into you right now, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “He was so weird the other day. He practically tried to pull my pants down in the middle of the woods.”

“Well… what if we manipulated him somehow?”

“To kill his sister?!” Elizabeth looked horrified. “Monica, we can’t do that! We can’t make Steven do that!”

“No, no, not like that,” I said. “Like… I don’t know, we all get together and maybe you seduce him or whatever… and then I can attack his sister if she’s upset about it.”

Elizabeth stared at me and shook her head. “No,” she said. “It won’t work.”

“Yes, it will,” I said. A loathsome plan formed in my mind and I hated the sound of it, but instinctively I knew—it had a much better chance of working.

“Look, I know Andrea is creepy around her brother, but—”

“It’s not just her,” I said quickly. “Look at how much attention Steven used to give her. But something changed, right? Now he’s really into you, right?”

Elizabeth nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“And how do you think that makes Andrea feel?”

Elizabeth shrugged and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know,” she said. “Thinking about that creeps me out.”

“Well, think about it,” I said sharply. “Seriously—do you think it makes her jealous?”

“I think it makes her feel… powerless,” Elizabeth said softly.

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “So, here’s what we’ll do. Call up Steven and tell him you want to hook up, but it has to be at his house. But also say that you feel really guilty about how you and Andrea have fought.”

“I could apologize for you, too,” Elizabeth said slowly. “I could say that I feel really bad for what you did, and that I’m not your friend anymore.”

I smiled. “Bingo,” I said. “Do you think you can lie?”

Elizabeth nodded quickly. “I think so.”

“You better try really hard,” I said sharply. “Because you’re not always good at it.”

Elizabeth flushed.

“Anyway, yeah, so you call Steven and tell him you want to hang out with him and Andrea… but make it sound like you really just want to sleep with him. Then, you go over and seduce him in front of her. It shouldn’t be hard. I’ll be waiting outside, like, by a window. And then I’ll break in and kill her.”

“This all sounds terrible,” Elizabeth said. She looked pale and green. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

I shook my head. “I know, but it has to work,” I said. “She’s going to be much less powerful if her attention is all focused on you and Steven; she’ll angry and it’ll be easier to take her down.”

Elizabeth bit her lip. There was a deep crease of concern and worry in her forehead.

“I hate this,” she muttered. “This is so fucked up. I can’t believe we’re plotting to kill our friend.”

“Andrea hasn’t been our friend for a long time,” I said quickly. “Don’t forget how crazy she is. Don’t forget how you felt when you were alone, in jail, all night.”

Elizabeth shuddered and rubbed her wrists. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “I guess.”

“Keep thinking about how angry and helpless you felt,” I said. “And channel all of that into… you know. This.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Elizabeth said softly. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“You have to,” I begged. “You have to help me, Liz. This is the only way we can do it. This is the only way we can win. Remember, you promised you’d do anything to help!”

I locked eyes with Elizabeth and stared hard. I know you hate this. But it’ll be worth it. I swear.

Elizabeth looked at me with sadness in her eyes. “Okay,” she said softly. “I’m in. When do you want to do it?”

I shuddered, remembering Henrik’s ghostly warning I’d received just an hour ago.

“Tomorrow,” I said finally.

“So soon?” Elizabeth’s jaw dropped and she gasped. “Monica… that’s so cruel!”

“We have to,” I said bitterly. “If we don’t strike now, we might not win.”

Elizabeth sighed, closing her eyes. “I wish I was dead,” she said. “I’d rather be dead than deal with all of this.”

Reaching out, I squeezed her shoulder with my right hand. “I know,” I said softly. “Trust me. I know.”

Chapter Four

Elizabeth

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned all night in a bed of sweaty, uncomfortable sheets. By morning, my throat was raw from crying and my eyes were red and swollen. I kept pinching myself, hoping to wake from this dreadful nightmare.

But this was real.

I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked terrible—my skin was even paler than usual, and I had big, dark circles under my eyes. So sexy. I stared at my reflection in disgust. I bet Steven can’t wait to get a piece of me. I shuddered. I had no idea how I would accomplish the task at hand—with murder on my mind, the last thing I wanted to do was have sex… especially with the brother of the girl that Monica and I had to kill.

“Elizabeth, sweetie, are you still in there?” My mom rapped on the bathroom door. “Someone else would like to use the shower, please!”

“Coming!” I called hoarsely. “I’ll be out in a second!”

Flushing the toilet for effect, I washed my hands and wet my hair, pushing it back from my forehead. My skin felt hot and scratchy, like a paper towel. Taking a deep breath, I yanked the door open and walked into the hall.

When Mom saw me, she frowned.

“Oh, honey,” Mom said. “You look like you’re coming down with something. Are you okay?”

I forced myself to smile and nod. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep well, that was all. My room felt so hot.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “You know your father and the thermostat,” she said. “I promise—I’ll get him to turn it down tonight.” She stared at me and I suddenly had the feeling that there was more clarity in her mind than there had been in weeks. “Are you sure you’re okay, sweetie? You really look upset.”

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just, um, you know. Missing school. I don’t want to repeat this year,” I added, echoing a sentiment that Monica had expressed last night. And, you know, I don’t want to kill one of my oldest friends, even if she did turn into a real bitch.

Mom nodded. “I understand.” Then she smiled widely and her eyes turned glassy once more. “I made waffles,” she said. “Would you like some breakfast?”

My stomach gurgled. “Sure,” I said in a hollow voice. “Sounds great.”

Downstairs, I pushed my waffle around in a puddle of syrup. Aidan sat next to me, inhaling his food so quickly that I felt nauseous just listening to him. As soon as he was done, I stood and reached for the phone. As I dialed the D’Amicos’ number, my hands were shaky and cold. I had a sudden flashback—I felt nervous now, just like I’d been when I’d first called Steven.

God, if only I was just nervous because I thought he didn’t like me, I thought bitterly as I held the phone to my ear. I’d given anything for that innocent time again.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Steven?” My heart was in my throat as I waited for his reply. When he spoke, I could practically hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh, hey Elizabeth! God, I’m glad to hear from you. I miss you, you know,” Steven said.

I sighed. “Yeah, I know,” I said. “Look, I’ve been thinking—I feel really bad about Andrea. What if I came over today and the three of us hung out?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Steven trailed off. “She’s been acting kind of weird lately.”

“Yeah,” I said, forcing a chuckle. “But I really miss you,” I added, purring into the phone. “Maybe we could… have some alone time after we hang out with your sister.”

“Oh, wow,” Steven said. “Yeah! I’d love that.”

“Good,” I said anxiously. “I’ll be over in a couple of hours, okay?”

“I can’t wait.”

As soon as I hung up, I ran to the bathroom and vomited.

---

By the time I got to the D’Amicos’ house, I was a nervous wreck. Monica and I met halfway there, and she trailed behind me, ducking and hiding behind trees whenever a car passed. I’m not really doing this. This isn’t really happening—it can’t be happening!

Steven answered the door with a huge grin on his face. He leaned down and kissed me. I tilted my head to the side just in time to see Monica slide into her hiding place, a clump of bushes beneath the D’Amicos’ living room.

“Hey,” Steven said. He grinned. “I can’t believe you wanted to come over.” He put his hands on my shoulders and kissed me again, this time sliding his tongue into my mouth and biting my lower lip. I tried to enjoy it, but I still felt nauseous and after a few seconds, I gently pushed him away.

“Sorry,” I said. “Um, wouldn’t want to be rude to your sister. Where is she?”

“She’s inside,” Steven said. “You know, she’s really happy you asked to come over.” He shook his head.

“Good,” I said nervously. I could barely hear the sound of my voice over the thumping of my heart in my ears.

“Come on,” Steven said. He jerked his head toward the inside of his house and I followed meekly behind. Sure enough, Andrea sat in the living room. A strange, placid smile was on her face.

“Hello, Elizabeth,” Andrea said politely.

“All better?” I glanced down. There was only a soft brace on Andrea’s injured leg.

Andrea nodded. “It still hurts when it rains,” she replied. “I’m so glad you came over.”

I nodded. “Me, too,” I said.

Steven sat on the couch opposite Andrea. I knew I should go to him—sit as close as possible and try to start the plan. But I felt something forcing me to stay away. It was strange: the nearer I got to Steven, the more I felt like I could barely move. My limbs were stiff and it felt like the air had turned into a thick treacle.

“Having trouble?” Andrea’s smile grew a shade wider and my heart sank.

Oh, no. She’s doing it. She’s controlling me. I closed my eyes and tried to channel the energy to the coven. I thought about the magickal elements, about the power of nature. But everything from the coven seemed distant and far-away, like a dream.

“What’s wrong?” Steven narrowed his eyes. “Sit down,” he added. “Do you guys want to watch a movie?”

Andrea smiled wickedly. “No,” she said. “I was thinking that we could all just sit together and talk. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

My legs propelled me across the room and into a rocking chair, as far away from Steven as possible. But to my dismay, he didn’t even look like he cared. He looked completely happy and at ease.

And his gaze was completely focused on his sister.

“So, tell me, Elizabeth,” Andrea said calmly. “You were gone for a few weeks. Steven said you were visiting a cousin. I didn’t know you had any cousins.”

I forced a shrug—it was painful, almost like I was breaking free of bondage just to move my shoulders.

“Yeah,” I said. “You know—I have a pretty big family.”

Andrea nodded. “I see.” She reached for a glass of water and took a sip. “I think you’re lying.”

“What?” I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not lying—my cousin lives in Portland, her name is, uh, Lily.”

Andrea laughed. “Elizabeth, it’s okay—you don’t have to lie in front of me,” she said sweetly.

Steven gave me a strange look. “You lied?”

“No,” I said quickly. “I wouldn’t lie to you, I swear.”

Steven turned his attention back to his sister. “Andrea, how’s your leg feeling?”

Andrea pulled a face. “It hurts,” she said softly.

I tried to get to my feet but I couldn’t move. My body was invisibly pinned to the rocking chair. Fear and dread took over my senses—what the hell was going on? Why couldn’t I move?

What was Andrea doing?

Fuck. Is she smarter than we thought? Did she guess what would happen?

“It’s funny that you wanted to come over,” Andrea said to me, her smile as wide as ever. “I didn’t think you liked me very much, Elizabeth.”

“Of course I do,” I said quickly. “We’ve been friends for a long time.”

Andrea shrugged. “If you say so,” she said. “Steven, I’m cold,” she said. I watched in horror as Andrea got up from her chair and crossed the room. She sat down next to Steven and put her hand on his chest, smiling smugly at me.

Steven did nothing. His eyes took on a dark, glassy look and he wrapped an arm around his sister with a mechanical gesture.

“Elizabeth, why don’t you leave?” Andrea said. “You don’t really look like you’re having a good time.”

My legs straightened painfully and lifted me out of the chair. I almost lost my balance as I felt myself move through the living room. It took every ounce of my strength to turn my head and look behind me. Andrea crawled onto Steven’s lap, caressing his face with both of her small hands.

He wasn’t even looking at me.

My eyes filled with tears as I moved closer and closer to the front door. Goddamnit. She knew. She knew! And she did this on purpose!

As soon as I on the D’Amicos’ porch, I finally regained strength over my own body. But when I tried to turn back to the door, I found that I couldn’t even cross the welcome mat. A thick, invisible barrier kept me away from Andrea.

Tears filled my eyes as I turned and walked home. I couldn’t decide if I felt relieved or angry. After all, Andrea had skillfully manipulated me into not harming her.

But I hadn’t accomplished what I’d set out to do, either. And I had a sinking suspicion that more likely than not, Monica and I would face punishment at the hands of Henrik and Ligeia.

Monica met me halfway home, on the main road of town. She no longer bothered concealing herself among the trees; instead, she slunk beside me, her eyes low with defeat.

“I should’ve known it wouldn’t work,” Monica mumbled. “She’s too strong, Elizabeth. She’s stronger than you. She’s probably stronger than me,” she added.

I shrugged. “We tried,” I said lamely. “She controlled me the second I walked in the door.”

“I know. Steven, too,” Monica said. She shuddered. “What’s her gross obsession with her brother, anyway? Like what the fuck?”

“I don’t know,” I said. I kicked at a rock on the ground. “It really bothers me.”

“Well, try not to let it,” Monica said. “Maybe we could… I don’t know. Use him to our advantage, somehow?”

“I don’t think that would work, either,” I said, balling my hands at my sides as frustration sank lower and lower into my brain. “He’s too easy manipulated. You said it yourself. He’s like a blank slate.”

“Let’s get my books and go into the woods,” Monica said. “We won’t be able to find the coven, but maybe we can find a spell or something.”

“A spell? You use actual spells?”

Monica flushed. “They’re more like… recipes,” she said. She wrinkled her nose. “And I’m not very good at them. But I think it’s the best chance we have.”

I made awkward small talk with Jamie and Brian while I waited for Monica to gather her books. As soon as she appeared on the stairwell holding three or four ancient-looking, leather-bound volumes, I followed her into the woods behind her house.

“It’s because she stole my athame,” Monica groused as she flipped through the pages of the books. I shuddered—the pages were yellow and powdery, stained with the oil of numerous fingertips.

“You need it back,” I said.

“No shit,” Monica said. “Look, this might work.” She shoved the book at me and I frowned—the illustration was of a beautiful woman with her eyes closed. Her gold-leaf hair spread over her shoulders as she levitated peacefully above the ground.

“She looks like she’s sleeping,” I said.

Monica laughed humorlessly. “She’s dead,” she said. “It’s a killing spell.” She shivered. “But the repercussions of that…” she trailed off.

I didn’t like the sound of that. I kept quiet as Monica flipped through the next few pages, looking at the ingredients.

“Turnip sap? What the hell is that,” Monica grumbled under her breath. “I’ve never even heard of this stuff. What’s Chickweed, anyway?”

“Maybe it’s archaic,” I suggested. “Maybe it’s names for stuff we still have.”

Monica shook her head. “Not all of it,” she said darkly. “Look—the venom from three young adders?” She laughed. There was no trace of mirth in her voice. “We couldn’t get this stuff, Elizabeth.”

She sighed and slammed the book closed. “I don’t know what to do.”

“There has to be another way,” I said gently. “We have to catch her off guard—we have to make her think that she’s in control.”

“Yeah, until she’s not,” Monica said darkly. “I don’t know.” She bit her lip as she paged through the book. “Honestly, even the easier stuff… I don’t think I’m strong enough. Someone like Henrik would have to help me, and he’s refused.”

“Can you ask him if he has any other ideas?”

“I don’t want to give up yet,” Monica said. She sighed and closed her eyes, blowing her blonde bangs high into the air. “I can’t believe our fucking plan didn’t work!”

“I’m kind of relieved,” I said quietly. “I mean, at least this way, we don’t have to kill anyone.”

“Yet,” Monica said. She shook her head. “I’m leaving,” she announced. “You keep these books. Or take them back to Jamie and Brian, I don’t care.”

“What? No,” I said. I scrambled to my feet, brushing the leaves and dirt off my jeans. “Let me come with you,” I said. “Please?”

“No,” Monica said. “It’s too dangerous.”

She got to her feet and stretched until her spine made an audible crack. “I’ll see you,” she said. “Bye, Elizabeth.”

Before I could beg her to stay, she was gone. And then I was alone in the woods, with the chilly air swirling around me and a pile of useless books at my feet.

---

Hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks. I didn’t go out much—most of the time, I stayed at home and read. I still hadn’t forgiven Aidan for turning me in, and my parents were so spacy and distant that it felt like living with a pair of ghosts.

I knew Monica was with the coven. Part of me was angry with her for not taking me. I mean, I wanted to help. And the coven had initiated me—so why hadn’t Monica let me in?

It was two and a half weeks before Monica came back. As soon as there was a knock at the front door, I knew it was her. I flew downstairs and yanked the door open.

“Let me in,” Monica said. She grinned triumphantly. “I figured it out. Well, not just me,” she added modestly.

I nodded and stepped back to allow her inside. Monica bounded up the staircase and I followed her, carefully closing and locking my bedroom door as soon as we were inside.

“So?” I flopped on my bed. “What do we have to do?”

Monica grinned smugly. “For one, good news—we don’t have to kill her,” she said in a hushed voice. It creeped me out—the way she smiled, combined with the sentence chilled me to the core.

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“We just have to trap her soul,” Monica said. “We just have to somehow trap her, and get her soul out of her body.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Won’t this… I don’t know, kill her anyway?”

Monica frowned. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t really care.”

“Monica!” I stared at her. “What’s wrong with you? This isn’t a game—this is a real person’s life!”

Monica tossed her blonde hair. “Well, yeah, but Elizabeth—think of how many people Prudence has killed over the years, will you? I mean, she’s one person. But she’s murdered hundreds!” Monica walked over to the window and yanked the blinds up. “And look outside,” Monica added. “Our town is going fucking nuts, all because of Prudence.”

I sighed. “I still don’t like it,” I said.

Monica frowned. “I thought you’d be happy,” she said. “I mean, isn’t this better than cutting her heart out?”

My stomach churned and hot bile rushed up my throat. I nodded, swallowing the acrid liquid. Wincing, I reached for a glass of water and took a sip.

“We have to think of a plan,” Monica said. “We need to get her in a trance, right?”

I sighed. “I guess.”

“So…” Monica chewed on her lip. “You have to make her think that you’re really sorry.”

“About what?” I narrowed my eyes. “I haven’t done anything.”

Monica rolled her eyes. “Well, for one, you fucked her brother,” she said. “I mean, come on.”

I blushed hotly. “I’m not confessing to that,” I said.

“Well, think of something else.” Monica tapped her chin with her fingers. “Like, okay, how about this? How about you go over and pretend you’re confessing on behalf of me, that I’m so bad that you’re feeling like you’re damned just from being friends with me.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t know,” I said. “Do you really think she’d go for that? Wouldn’t she see right through me?”

Monica shrugged. “No,” she said. “I don’t think so. Those Christian types… they’re rabid for guilt, aren’t they?”

“I guess.”

“So, you call her and tell her you want to confess. Then go over there and make shit up. I’ll put her in a trance. We can take her body to Henrik and Ligeia. They’ll know what to do.”

“I can’t find the coven on my own,” I said, frowning deeply. “Ligeia told me I couldn’t until I’m strong enough.”

“I think putting Andrea in a trance would make you strong enough,” Monica said. She raised her eyebrows at me. “Besides, I can always find it—you can just follow behind.”

I bit my lip, hard. Blood seeped into my mouth and I swallowed. Somehow, it didn’t exactly help with my nausea.

“Okay,” I said. “I mean, I guess I have to. When do you want to do it?”

Monica checked her watch. “It’s only two,” she said. “Call her now and tell her you want to come over this afternoon. Don’t mention Steven at all,” she said warily. “And if she asks, just pretend like you’ve lost interest.”

My stomach churned. “To be honest, that wouldn’t be much of a lie,” I said. “His weird behavior and that whole scene last time… ugh.”

Monica nodded. “Good,” she said. “Just think about that whenever she asks. Your disgust is pretty clear.”

I reached for my phone and dialed the D’Amicos’ house, my heart flickering in my chest.
“Hello?”

I cleared my throat. “Hi, is this Mrs. D’Amico?”

“Yes.” She sounded suspicious. “Who is this?”

I blushed crimson red. “It’s Elizabeth Hartsell,” I said. “May I please speak to Andrea?”

There was a pause. “May I ask why?”

Inwardly, I groaned.

“Sure,” I said. “I want to confess to her.” I made my voice sugary sweet. “I want to make sure she understands how sorry I am.”

“Andrea!” Mrs. D’Amico called. “Elizabeth is on the phone for you!”

God, how insufferable, I thought as I chewed my lip, waiting to hear the high-pitched sound of Andrea’s voice.

“Hello, Elizabeth,” Andrea said. “My mother said you wanted to speak with me.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I mean, yes. But can I come over? This would probably be better in person,” I added. “I want to confess. I’ve been feeling so horrible and guilty about everything, and I just wanted you to know how deeply I mean it.”

I could practically hear Andrea smiling through the phone. “Sure, Elizabeth,” she said sweetly. “Why not come over right now?”

Shit.

“How about in a few hours?” I asked timidly. “I have to help my mother with a few things first.”

“Oh, okay. That’s so nice of you, Elizabeth. We should always help our families.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sounds good. I’ll see you soon.”

We hung up and I threw the phone into my pillows.

“What?” Monica frowned. “That sounded like it went well.”

“Her parents are home,” I hissed. “How the hell are we supposed to pull this off if they’re around?”

Monica looked troubled. “I don’t know,” she said. “But we have to try. I can handle them if necessary.”

I stared. “You’re kidding.”

“I don’t mean hurt them or anything,” Monica said quickly. She looked guilty. “You know. Just, uh, make sure they stay out of it.”

I frowned. “This isn’t going to work,” I groaned. I buried my face in my hands. “We’re totally screwed.”

Monica sighed heavily. “We’ve got to try,” she said softly. “Elizabeth, that’s all we can do.”

“I know,” I said grimly. “I’m just not looking forward to it. Not at all.”

Chapter Five

When I got to the D’Amicos, I felt the same sense of dread and unease that I’d felt before. The only thing that made me feel better was the absence of cars in the driveway… including Steven’s.

Andrea smiled brightly at me when she opened the door. I noticed that she was still limping faintly, and I immediately wondered whether it was a ruse.

“Hi, Elizabeth,” Andrea chirped. “It’s so nice to see you. I asked everyone to give us some privacy.” She leaned in close and I resisted the urge to jump back. “I mean, I assume you’re going to tell me some really private things.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks for not minding.”

“It wasn’t a problem,” Andrea said. “Come with me.”

It felt weird being inside the D’Amicos’ house without Steven. The last time I’d hung out there with just Andrea and Monica, it had been years ago—before that whole séance fiasco. Thinking about that was almost painful… it made me wonder if we’d ever been normal little girls.

“What are you thinking about?”

I sighed. “Honestly, I was thinking about all of the times when Monica and I would come over here to play.”

Andrea’s smile faded. “Monica is evil,” she said flatly. “I never should have ever entertained the idea of being her friend.”

“It was a long time ago,” I said quickly. “I know things are different now.”

That reply seemed to satisfy Andrea. She smiled and led me into the living room. There were two cushions on the floor and I leaned down to pick them up.

“Oh, no,” Andrea said. She smiled at me. “We’re going to kneel together and pray. And then, you may confess.” Her voice was benevolent, yet condescending.

“Ah,” I said. “Okay. That sounds good.” It didn’t sound good—warning bells erupted in my head. What if she tries to put ME in a trance, I wondered as I kneeled, wincing as I settled on the thin pillow. The pillow wasn’t thick enough to shield my knees from the wooden floor and I was almost instantly in pain.

Andrea settled down next to me, looking as smug and comfortable as a queen on her throne.

“Holy Father,” Andrea began, closing her eyes and bowing her head. I immediately copied her gesture. “We’re here today to speak to Elizabeth Hartsell, a fallen woman who has come to confess her sins.”

I rolled my eyes. Fallen woman? What the hell does that even mean?

Andrea nudged me with her elbow. “Pray,” she said. “It’s your time to speak to the Holy Father and tell him why you’re here.”

“Um, okay.” I shifted nervously on the pillow, trying to find a comfortable spot for my knees. “Holy Father, please forgive me. I’ve sinned, and I greatly regret my past actions. The guilt is so upsetting to me.”

Andrea turned to me. “You can be specific,” she said sweetly. “Holy Father prefers total openness.”

“I haven’t always been a good daughter,” I said, fumbling for the words Monica and I’d rehearsed just hours ago. “And I haven’t been a godly friend.”

“That’s good,” Andrea praised. “Keep going, Elizabeth.”

My mind started to slow down. Fuck. She’s doing the same thing as before!

“Um,” I said, stalling for time. “I’ve lied to my mother—I told her I was going to visit Monica, and really I was going on a walk. And I stood by and watched the police take Steven while they told me to go inside, even though we both violated curfew.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes,” I said. “Thank you, Holy Father, for listening to the sins of a fallen woman.” The phrase tumbled out of my mouth and I tried not to cringe.

“Good,” Andrea praised. She shifted her legs, crossing them underneath her. I noticed she didn’t wince when her weight landed on the leg that had been broken.

Relieved to be off my knees, I did the same.

“So, Elizabeth, what did you want to confess to me? It won’t be the same as praying, exactly, but you’ll feel better. You’ll feel so much more pure.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Um, give me a minute.” Just as I went to speak, my mind went blank. Suddenly, I felt my limbs twitching—almost like I’d felt before, right when Andrea had begun controlling me. No, I thought. This can’t happen again! This was my last chance!

“Elizabeth? Are you feeling unwell?”

“No,” I said quickly. “I’m fine.” I sighed. Oh, yeah, Monica! Talk about Monica!

“Whenever you’re ready,” Andrea said in a pleasant voice. “Go ahead.”

“It’s about Monica,” I said quickly.

Andrea’s smile vanished. “I’ve told you. Monica is an evil girl, and we’re not going to discuss her.”

“It’s not about that,” I said. “I’m worried about her. I’m worried about her soul, Andrea. And I feel so horrible for the way she has treated you.”

Andrea looked suspicious. “But you’re her best friend.”

“I know,” I replied. “But, um, you see… I’m starting to… uh…”

Again, the words vanished from my head.

“Elizabeth, I’m not sure what you’re playing at,” Andrea said calmly. “I know the real reason why you’re here. You’re here to talk about Steven, aren’t you?”

“What?”

Andrea smiled. “You’re here to confess to performing wicked, sinful deeds with my poor brother and ensnaring him in your devilish ways.”

“No,” I said quickly, blushing hotly. “I’m not. Andrea, I swear—that isn’t why I’ve come.”

Andrea stretched. “Well, I know it’s true,” she said stonily. “So, you may as well just confess now, Elizabeth, before I have you imprisoned.”

“For what?” My jaw dropped. “I haven’t even done anything wrong!”

Andrea stood, her eyes flashing with anger. “That’s what you say,” she said. “But I know you, Elizabeth. You’re a liar.”

No, no, this can’t be happening. I felt my limbs growing heavy and sluggish. If I don’t do something now, it’ll be too late, I realized as panic flooded my body. This is my last chance.

I got to my feet and charged at Andrea. Her mouth formed a small ‘o’ of surprise as she skidded backwards, her feet dragging on the wooden floor. With all of my strength, I pinned her on the ground.

“Elizabeth, stop this,” Andrea shouted. “You stop it right now or you’ll regret it!” Her pupils were pools of ominous blackness. “You stop!”

“No,” I grunted, grabbing Andrea by the shoulder and trying to drag her out of the house. “You’re coming with me!”

“No!” Andrea shrieked. She opened her mouth and wailed, screaming and crying at the top of her lungs. The sound was piercingly loud and I gritted my teeth as my head ached from the force of her cries. I knew that Monica must be able to hear—she was crouched right outside the window. But when I turned my gaze to look, I saw that she was standing and peering inside, looking horrified and scared.

Andrea turned her head to follow my gaze. When she saw Monica, her face turned murderous.

“I should’ve known,” Andrea said. She spat at me and I cringed as warm saliva dripped down my face. “You’re both evil women!”

“No,” I shouted. “Leave her alone!” Mentally, as I stared at Monica’s figure, I wondered why she wasn’t moving. Then I realized—she was frozen in place. Oh, my God, I thought as my heart raced. We’re so fucked. Monica isn’t as strong as she thought, and Andrea is more powerful than both of us!

“You stay here,” Andrea growled. Suddenly, my legs turned to frozen jelly and I collapsed with a hard thud on the living room floor. When I tried to move, a hot bolt of pain shot through my body and I screamed. It felt like I was being pulled apart, limb from limb.

Andrea smiled down at me. “That doesn’t feel nice, does it,” she said, cocking her head to the side and glaring. “That’s what it feels like when you’re put upon the rack. I know what that’s like, Elizabeth. And you’re going to find out.”

“No,” I whimpered weakly. I could barely move my lips, and the sound wasn’t even as loud as a whisper. The only thing that I could feel moving in my body was adrenaline, rushing through my veins and pumping through each limb. Please, no.

Andrea looked down at me and smiled again. “You really thought you could outsmart me, Elizabeth?” She threw her head back and laughed. “The whole town is on my side. Everyone except you and Monica! Your own brother even turned you in,” she added smugly.

Tears welled up in my eyes but my arms were bound to my side. I felt helpless as hot salt water spilled down my cheeks and dripped onto the floor.

“I really should have known better than to even think about trusting you,” Andrea said. She shook her head and an edge of venom came into her voice. “Things have been going downhill for centuries. And this is what you deserve.”

Her words sent a chill down my spine. I knew what Monica had told me—that Andrea was a reincarnation of Prudence Arrowsmith, Ligeia’s fanatical younger sister. But even though I’d believed her—truly—at the time, this was still stranger than anything else that had happened thus far. A cold fright settled over my body and I shuddered.

Andrea sighed loudly. “Don’t go anywhere,” she said in a snide voice. “I’ll be right back.”

I could only lie there, helpless, as Andrea flounced down the hall. I listened as Andrea’s footsteps faded away. The front door opened and closed. Please, Monica, run away. Find your strength and find the coven—Henrik will know what to do!

As soon as the door slammed shut once again, I gasped. A heavy, thumping sound filled the living room and I gasped when I saw Andrea dragging Monica’s slight, prone figure across the floor. Monica’s eyes were closed and she looked weak and stiff.

“Now… what am I going to do with you?” Andrea said. She set Monica down on the floor. She wasn’t even breathing hard, or heaving from the effort of dragging Monica’s body. Somehow, that made my predicament all the more terrifying.

“Please,” I whimpered. “Please, Andrea, have mercy.”

Andrea laughed. “No,” she said.

“It would be the Christian thing to do,” I added softly. Even making the effort to speak was excruciatingly painful. My lips and tongue were dry and cracked, but I forced myself to keep talking. “It’s what you should do.”

Andrea stared at me. “No,” she said. “I can’t. You and Monica have taken advantage of my trust too many times. I’m going to keep you both here until the Church and I decide what to do with you.”

Andrea picked up Monica’s supine body with ease and carried her across the floor. This time, there was no limp from her injured leg. Fucking liar, I thought as I watched her carry the body of my best friend down the hall.

I thought back to that night at the hospital. Andrea had looked so weak and sick—had it all been an act?

When I heard Andrea open the door to the basement and go down the stairs, I knew that we were in immediate danger. Andrea’s parents—not to mention Steven—could be home at any minute, and if I didn’t do something fast, Monica and I were helpless.

I have to help her. I have to save her, and then we can find the coven and everything will be okay. Yeah, things will be fine.

Gritting my teeth, I tried to sit up. Pain racked my body and I cried out, biting my lip to cover the sound. Even moving just a few inches was the most pain I’d ever experienced in my life, and fresh tears filled my eyes as the agonizing sensations vibrated through my limbs again and again. I gritted my teeth and grabbed the edge of the couch, hauling myself to my feet.

Yeah. I can do this. I can do this, I can defeat her. I know I can. I know I’m strong enough. Yeah, just keep going. Just keep moving.

Only by grabbing the edges of the furniture did I manage to haul myself through the living room and down the stairs. Tears streamed down my face and I knew I made too much noise, but so far, Andrea had yet to come running. Somehow, I knew that was a bad sign—she was obviously too pre-occupied with Monica to worry about me.

When I got into the basement, I gasped. Monica was bound and gagged, tied to a chair as Andrea stood before her, clutching a Bible and a crucifix. When Andrea saw me, she dropped the Bible and gasped.

“You!” Andrea growled. “How did you get down here?”

It’s now or never, I told myself. You can do this.

Launching off the railing, I pushed myself forward and held my arms out straight, trying hard to push through the intense pain plaguing my body. My hands landed on Andrea and I pushed her back, knocking her to the concrete floor. As soon as her concentration was broken, the pain stopped and I felt my limbs break free of her curse. Wrapping my hands around her throat, I squeezed.

Andrea shrieked and yowled. She formed her hands into claws and scratched and scraped at my face, desperately trying to free herself. Guilt formed in my mind, but as soon as I remembered Monica, I squeezed harder and harder. Andrea’s face changed from pale to blue to purple to a sickly kind of green, but I didn’t stop. I grunted, shoving my full weight against her body until her lids fluttered closed.

Behind me, Monica kicked and struggled with her bonds. She spat out her gag and looked at me with wide, hectic eyes.

“Is she dead?” Monica asked softly.

I looked at Andrea. For a moment, she was still. But then her chest began to slowly rise and fall, and her lips parted for breath.

“No. She’s still breathing.”

Keeping one eye locked on Andrea, I got to my feet and untied Monica from the chair.

“Stay here in case she wakes up,” Monica said quickly. “I’ll be right back.”

“Monica, we have to get her out of here,” I hissed. “We need to take her to Henrik and Ligeia before she wakes!”

“I swear, I’ll just be a second,” Monica said. She darted up the stairs and I sighed heavily.

“Jesus fucking Christ, what now?” I muttered under my breath. I kept my eyes glued to Andrea, making sure that she wasn’t moving. She twitched every so often, but for the most part, I was relieved.

Monica’s footsteps thundered down the stairs. Her face was a mask of rage and she ran over to Andrea’s body and kneeled. Before I could stop her, she held her knife—the sacred athame—over Andrea’s chest and plunged it into her chest.

Chapter Six

“What are you doing?” I screamed. “What the fuck did you just do?”

Dark, red blood—hotter and denser than I ever would have imagined—spilled from Andrea’s chest at a rapid rate. Her breathing slowed and my eyes filled with tears as I watched her shirt turn from white to a deep, reddish black that soaked through the cotton material.

“I had to,” Monica said stiffly. She stared at me with no hint of remorse. “Elizabeth, I had to do it.”

“Are you crazy?” I yelled. “You killed her! How the fuck are we supposed to take her to Henrik and Ligeia now?” I covered my face with my hands and shut my eyes tightly. No, no, no, no, no, I thought. This can’t be happening. This is a dream—any minute from now, I’m going to wake. No!

“This isn’t a dream, Elizabeth,” Monica said harshly. “I had to do it. You know I had to do it. What if we can’t find the coven? What would we do if she woke in the woods and took control of us again?”

“Monica…” Tears streamed down my face. “I can’t believe you.”

“Then don’t,” Monica said stiffly. “But I need you to help me carry her body.”

“No…” I bit my lip and burst into sobs. “I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.”

Monica grabbed my hands and held them tightly. I tried to twist out of her grasp but she held on with surprising strength.

“I know, it’s hard,” Monica said. “But Elizabeth, you swore. You swore loyalty to the coven, and to me.”

“You killed her!” I shrieked. “That’s not what the plan was!”

“It was the plan for last time,” Monica said. “And you couldn’t go through with it, remember? Your will was so weak that she possessed you before you even crossed the threshold!”

I slumped over. “I can’t believe this is really happening,” I whispered. “I want it to stop.”

“It will,” Monica said. “I promise. But I need your help. Come on,” she added. “We have to work quickly.”

I let out a choked sob when I looked down at Andrea’s body once again. Blood still spurted from her chest, soaking her body and dripping down to the concrete floor.

“There isn’t much we can do to clean up,” Monica said. “I promise, it’ll be okay. Come on.” She grabbed Andrea’s feet. “You get her head and shoulders.”

“No,” I whimpered. “I can’t.”

Monica rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said. “Take her feet then. See if I care.”

I bit my lip as I got to my feet and grabbed Andrea by the ankles. When Monica lifted her by the shoulders, her head lolled back. Like a corpse. She’s like a dead person already.

We carried her up the stairs, Monica going first, as quickly and quietly as we could. Blood dripped from Andrea’s body and splattered the stairs, the hall, and the porch as we lifted her body through the front door and into the woods behind Andrea’s house.

My mind ran wild with horrible thoughts. We’ve finally done it. We finally have something that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Monica’s face stayed calm and composed. Her brows were knitted together with the struggle of carrying Andrea’s body, but otherwise, she looked unperturbed. It bothered me—sure, Andrea had been a witch—but did she deserve to die?

Stop, I told myself as we waded deeper and deeper into the woods. You’re not going to get anywhere by thinking like that.

Monica stumbled and for a moment, we almost fell. But she regained her footing at the last second.

“We’re close,” Monica said. “I can almost smell it.”

“I can’t smell anything but blood and dead leaves,” I said morosely as we stumbled together past a large tree. “Are you sure?”

In my arms, Andrea stirred. Her lids fluttered but her eyes didn’t open, and her lips were parted. She drooled on her face and her forehead was screwed tight with pain.

“She’s still alive,” I breathed. “I can’t believe it.”

“Well, yeah,” Monica said haughtily, as if I’d somehow offended her. “I didn’t mean to kill her. I just meant to subdue her spirit.”

“You stabbed her in the chest,” I said. It was hard to keep the accusing tone out of my voice. “How the hell did you know that she wouldn’t die?”

Monica shrugged, as best as she could while still carrying Andrea. “I didn’t,” she said. “But it worked out.”

Anger and shame raced through my body. I closed my eyes and leaned against the trunk of a tree. “I’m getting tired,” I said. “I can’t carry her for much longer.”

Monica sighed. “We’re almost there, just a little bit longer.”

“She’s heavy,” I said. I glanced down—Andrea’s face was paler than usual, and her lips were white. “She’s losing a lot of blood,” I added. “Will Ligeia be able to cure her?”

Monica didn’t answer. She led the way and I had no choice but to follow behind as she led me through the dark woods. As we moved further and further away from Jaffrey, I could swear that the woods became lusher. Buds appeared on the trees, and there was a hint of green grass under the leaves.

“Almost there,” Monica heaved. Her own face was red with sweat and the effort of carrying Andrea. “Just a little bit longer.”

I wondered if she was saying that more for the benefit of herself than for me.

Eventually, we stumbled onto a clearing of lush, emerald grass. Déjà vu hit hard when I realized it was the same clearing where Ligeia had initiated me. A chill ran through my body—that all felt like so long ago, even though not much time had passed.

“Henrik!” Monica yelled. “We’re here!”

Seconds later, the wizened old man appeared. He wore robes of cobalt, and his white hair was bound with a leather strap. When he saw Andrea, he nodded gravely.

“Good,” Henrik said.

“Good? She’s nearly dead,” I cried. “You have to help her!”

Ligeia glided out of the woods, moving swiftly in her ivory robes. Her blue eyes flashed when she saw Andrea’s bleeding form on the grass and I saw a flash of hatred behind her dark pupils.

“You’ve brought Prudence,” Ligeia said stiffly. “I see that she was wounded.” She glanced at Monica. “Care to explain?”

“I had to subdue her,” Monica said. She licked the sweat off her upper lip and we set Andrea’s body gently in the grass.

“I see,” Ligeia said. “I trust you.”

Guilt and remorse hit me like a truck. For a moment, I felt like I would pass out. All I could do was stand there and watch, horrified, as Andrea twitched. Her lids fluttered again, and her lips were moving.

“She’s trying to say something,” I said, pointing towards Andrea’s mouth. “Look, she’s trying to talk.”

Ligeia waved her hand dismissively in the air. “Prudence was never the silent type,” she said. “Henrik, please attend to our guest.”

Henrik scooped Andrea’s body up with ease, cradling her in his arms. He carried her over to a tree and propped her up, resting her back against the massive trunk. A sinking feeling came over my chest and I swallowed hard as Henrik pulled leather cords from a pouch at his side and tied Andrea to the tree.

Ligeia stepped closer. Her blue eyes were glassy and her lips were curved into a calm smile.

“I can feel the power leaving Prudence,” she said, resting her hand on the trunk of the tree. “The power is seeping into the earth, giving me strength.” She looked at me, her eyes flashing. “Tell me, child—do you feel it, too?”

“Please don’t let her die,” I begged. “Please, it would be wrong.”

Ligeia ignored me.

“Monica,” she said sharply. “Come here.”

I grabbed Monica’s wrist and tried to pull her back. “Monica! Don’t let them do this! We have to save her,” I said hotly, gesturing towards Andrea’s trussed body. “Do the right thing,” I begged. “Come on, please!”

Monica stared at me and slowly shook her head. “We must respect the wishes of Ligeia,” she said.

“Monica, she could die! She’s already close,” I whimpered. Hot tears of regret streamed down my face. “What did we do?” I whispered. “Why did we do this?”

Monica stared at me with no hint of guilt.

“We did it because we had to,” she said softly. “Sleep now, Elizabeth.”

Monica’s hand waving in front of my face was the last thing I saw before I passed out.

---

“I have to do this, Elizabeth,” Andrea said. She glared at me. “It’s all because of you that evil has come to Jaffrey, and we must do what we can to rid ourselves of this evil.”

“No,” I whimpered. “Please, Andrea, have mercy on me!”

“I cannot,” Andrea said. “You’re a witch, and you must be put to death.”

Andrea snapped her fingers and two large, muscular men came up to me and grabbed me, wrapping their meaty fingers into my upper arms until I cried out in pain. I tried to struggle, but it was useless—the men kept a firm grip on me, marching me across the dusty floorboards.

“You must confess,” Andrea said. She held a Bible close to her body and gestured towards a wooden contraption that looked like a large frame.

“She will,” one of the men chuckled. “They always do.”

Panic exploded in my chest when I realized what they meant to do. The men lifted me onto the wooden frame, securing my ankles and wrists at each end until I was stretched out on my back. My shoulders ached with the effort and the rough ropes cut into the soft skin of my wrists.

“Confess, Elizabeth,” Andrea said. “Confess your sins, and perhaps God may spare you a painful death.”

“Please don’t do this,” I begged. Tears of fright came to my eyes and streamed down my face. I blinked them away but they kept coming and soon my chest heaved with sobs.

Andrea stood there, looking down at me with a smug expression on her face.

“Confess,” she said. “You only have one chance.”

“Please,” I whimpered. “Please, please don’t hurt me!”

Andrea smiled and shook her head. “Too late for that,” she said. “You should have been more godly, Elizabeth. The Holy Father is the only one who can save us.” Andrea gestured to the men and one of them stepped closer, wrapping his hand around a wooden handle protruding from the rack.

“Now,” Andrea said. “Elizabeth has chosen not to confess. Just a light touch, at first,” she said, smiling wickedly. “Then perhaps Elizabeth will choose to reveal the names of her conspirators.”

“My what?” I gasped. “Andrea, what are you talking about?”

Andrea laughed. “Have you gone mad?” She stepped closer, gazing down at me and cocking her head to the side. “I don’t know of this Andrea… I am Prudence, Prudence Arrowsmith.”

The man pulled the handle to the side and I felt my body stretch painfully. I cried out in agony as all of my joints strained and stretched. Loud popping sounds filled the room and I screamed. The man kept going until Andrea held up her hand.

“Stop,” she said. “Elizabeth, are you ready to tell me the names of your coven?”

All I could do was shriek and scream in pain. Andrea’s words barely reached me as my unbearable agony grew to an all-time high.

“Elizabeth!”

This time, it wasn’t Andrea calling me. I would die, I realized as I lay there. I would die and this was the end of it.

“Elizabeth!”

My eyes flew open. I bolted up in bed, sweating and trembling. My mother stood right there, her hand still on the switch of my bedside lamp.

“Elizabeth, you were screaming in your sleep!”

My joints still tingled. I swallowed hard and tried to take a deep breath of air as I rubbed my wrists.

“Elizabeth, honey, you have to get up now.”

I rubbed my eyes, then looked outside.

“Mom… it’s still dark,” I said sleepily. “What’s going on?”

Mom sat down on the bed, her forehead creased with concern. “Honey, there’s been an incident,” she said slowly.

My heart pounded with fear. No, I thought. No! They can’t have already found out about Andrea! They can’t be here to arrest me! The bitter taste of iron seeped into my mouth and tears came to my eyes.

“I know, sweetie, it’s sad,” Mom said. She sniffled. “That poor little girl.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What… happened exactly?”

“Your poor friend, Andrea D’Amico, is missing,” Mom said. She wiped her eyes. “No one can find her, and the whole town is looking.”

I blinked. “She’s… missing?”

Mom nodded sadly. “Yes, honey. Her mother came home and she was nowhere to be found.”

“Was…” I bit my lip, not wanting to incriminate myself. “Did she leave a note? Anything?”

“No,” Mom replied. “The house was spotless. It didn’t look like anyone broke in.” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. “It’s just so sad, that poor thing!”

All I could do was stare. “Mom… why do I have to get up?”

“Because the whole town is going to form a search party,” Mom said quietly. “We’re going to look for that darling little angel and make sure she’s okay.”

I blinked.

“Honey, don’t you want to find your friend?”

The dream memory of being on the rack flooded back to me and I whimpered in pain, rubbing my wrists.

“Of course you’re sad,” Mom said. “I know, I am too. But that’s not an excuse not to help, sweetie. We’ve got to make sure that Andrea is okay.”

I frowned. “Mom… what about Monica?”

My mom looked confused. “What about her?”

“When she went missing… no one cared,” I said slowly. “No one even lifted a finger to look for her.”

Mom blinked. “I don’t know, sweetie,” she said. “Come on, get dressed. We’ve got to meet the search party in twenty minutes.”

I shivered as I looked outside before pulling on jeans and a hoodie. It was a cold night—I could feel the blistering chill through the panes of my window—and the last thing I wanted to do was look for a girl who was trussed up in the woods somewhere.

Suddenly, it hit me. Andrea was still controlling the town. If everyone was so concerned about her being missing, she must still be manipulating them. Cool relief washed over me. That means she’s not dead. That means that somewhere, with the coven, she’s still alive.

The news didn’t fill me with as much joy as I thought it would.

I spent hours in a search group with Aidan, my parents, and some other kids from school. Everyone cried so hard they could barely walk. It was strange to be in a group of people with eyes red from crying and noses dripping with snot.

They weren’t like this at all when you left, Monica, I thought bitterly as I swept my flashlight over what felt like the millionth yard. She’s still doing this—she wants to be found.

It was eight in the morning by the time the police called for a temporary break. I stood, shivering and exhausted, with nearly everyone in Jaffrey as a minister from Andrea’s church administered a blessing. By the time I got home, I was so tired that I collapsed into bed and passed out for hours.

By the time I woke, the sun was shining high in the sky. My mom, dad, and Aidan were all out of the house—I guessed they’d gone back to searching for Andrea. The air outside was filled with the cries of Andrea’s name, and the sound of people sobbing as loudly as they could.

I don’t get it, I thought as I stretched and reached for my phone. This is too much.

I hesitated for a second before calling David.

“Hey,” David said. He sounded concerned. “What’s going on?”

“Everyone here has lost their minds,” I said softly. I sniffled, then burst into tears as I recounted the whole story over the phone.

David was silent for a long time. “Jaffrey’s fucked up,” he said quietly. “I was in jail there for like, three days. Just because I got caught driving in.”

“No one is paying attention now,” I said. I wiped my nose on my sleeve. “They’re all just obsessed with finding Andrea.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Please,” I whispered. “Please, David. I really… I really need a friend right now. Or an ally. Whatever. I don’t care. Just please come.”

David sighed. “I’ll be there in a few hours, okay? Meet me outside of town. I’ll text when I’m close.”

We hung up and I paced around the house until it was time to leave. I knew it was wrong—I shouldn’t have been spending time with David. I should’ve been looking through the woods, combing for the coven, and making sure that Andrea was safe.

But I was so worn out that I could barely think anymore. Life had been crazy for so long that it almost seemed routine.

And I was sick of it. I wanted normalcy back. It sounded crazy—even to me—but more than anything, I wanted to be back in school, buried under a mountain of homework. I wanted my old crush on Steven back.

I just wished everything would stop.

When it was time to meet David, I had to sneak to the edge of town. Search parties were everywhere, praying loudly and screaming Andrea’s name. It’s like a horror movie, I realized as I ran through the shrubs and ducked behind gazebos to sneak past.

David’s car waited at the edge of town. I slipped into the passenger seat and breathed a sigh of relief as David drove past the sign: “Jaffrey. A good town to live in!”

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I just… I can’t handle being alone right now.”

David’s mouth was set in a thin line. He reached for a packet of cigarettes and lit one, puffing and exhaling noisily out the window. Normally, cigarette smoke bothered me. But right now, it just made me feel relaxed and calm. After a second, I took a cigarette from the pack and lit it, coughing as I inhaled for the first time.

David snickered. “First time?”

For some stupid reason, I blushed. “Maybe.”

“So, yeah, Monica’s gone again, huh?”

“Yeah.” I took another puff, being careful not to hold the smoke in. “She’s… going through a lot.”

David raked a hand through his long, dark hair. A musky smell wafted towards me and I blushed again when I realized it was his personal scent.

“She doesn’t really bother telling me much of anything now,” David said. He slowed the car and turned off to the side, towards the lake where we’d walked together when Monica had first gone missing.

“She’s going through a lot,” I repeated. “I know it sounds trite… but there’s some big stuff going on.”

“Like witches?”

David’s blasé tone surprised me.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Like witches.”

David slowed the car and turned it off, leaving the windows down. “You wanna walk around?”

My legs still ached from the early morning search party.

I shook my head. “No,” I said. “Can we just stay here? If that’s okay?”

David lit another cigarette and puffed in silence. “I don’t really know what’s going on,” he said. “I don’t even think I should care, really. I mean, I’m going to college in the fall.”

“Don’t be angry with her,” I said softly. “She isn’t doing this to hurt you.”

“Come on,” David said. For the first time, there was emotion in his voice. “We both know you feel the same way, Elizabeth.”

The way he said my name sent a shiver down my spine… and it wasn’t entirely pleasant, either. My belly ached with arousal and I bit my lip, putting my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.

“I know,” I said quietly. “I just don’t know what to do about it.”

“Monica’s an intense kid,” David said. “She’s brilliant. That’s why I talked to her, you know. It was like right from the get-go, she had to know everything.”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“I just want shit to go back to normal,” David said. He sighed. “My town chilled out. At least, for the most part. Things are still weird… but goddamn,” he said, laughing mirthlessly. “This is a nightmare.”

“I wish I could leave.”

“You got family anywhere?”

“No. At least, none that I know,” I said quietly. Tears came to my eyes and I tried to blink them away, but my emotions were too strong. The cigarette had made my heart beat faster and soon I was sobbing, burying my face in my hands and crying hysterically.

“Hey, come here,” David said. He pulled me into his arms. At first, I resisted. Then he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled my face into his neck. His musky smell was part natural, part leather and it washed over me like a fragrant ambrosia. Soon, I clung to him, soaking his thin black t-shirt with my tears. David didn’t speak. He stroked my hair and squeezed me against him, mumbling soothing words under his breath.

It felt like an eternity before my tears slowed. Now that my emotions had flooded over me, I felt strangely numb.

“I should be embarrassed,” I said quietly into David’s neck.

He laughed dryly and his dark stubble scraped against my face. Oddly, it felt comforting and soothing.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You’re welcome.”

I froze. David hadn’t stopped holding me, and I hadn’t stopped clinging to him in a strange kind of desperation. David swallowed—his whole chest moved. I started to move away but David held me there and after a second of resisting, I collapsed against him.

“Don’t go right now,” David said quietly. I shifted my head onto his shoulder and looked up at him. David turned in his seat and brushed my hair out of my eyes. An electrical charge seemed to pass between our bodies as his dark eyes locked with mine.

“What?” I asked softly.

David leaned in close and kissed me deeply. I kissed him back, pressing my still-wet lips against his and wrapping my arms around his neck. He pulled me onto his lap and I straddled him. As we kissed, David slipped his hands under my hoodie and pulled it over my head. He gently pushed me to the side and climbed into the backseat, not letting go of my hands.

We locked eyes. I didn’t break the gaze as I reached up and fumbled with the buttons on my shirt.

“Is this okay?” David whispered.

For a second, I stopped. But the look in his eyes was too much for me. Ripping my shirt off, I climbed into the backseat.

When it was over, we lay tangled and panting. Our bodies were soaked with sweat and the car was filled with a dense, loamy aroma that I’d never smelled before. David brushed the damp hair away from my forehead and sat up, reaching into the console for his cigarettes. Without asking, he lit one for me and passed it over.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” I said softly, sitting up and pulling my underwear back up. The buttons on my shirt were torn so I stuffed it in my purse and pulled my hoodie over my naked chest. Scrambling into the passenger seat, I took a hurried drag of my cigarette and threw it out the window.

“Can you take me back?” I couldn’t look at David. I dipped my head and knotted my hair into a messy bun.

“Elizabeth, are you okay?” David’s voice was tinged with concern. “What’s wrong?”

I sniffled, wiping my nose on my sleeve. “Just take me home, okay? Please,” I begged. “Just take me back.”

We didn’t speak as David’s car rolled through the dark New Hampshire roads. Inside, I was wracked with guilt. My chest ached and I felt like curling into a ball and crying for the rest of my life. I couldn’t believe I’d slept with my best friend’s boyfriend. What kind of horrible person was I?

When David’s car slowed, I pushed open the door and tumbled outside before he’d even stopped. Then I took off, running as fast as I could, my purse slamming into my thigh with each pace. David called after me a few times, but then I saw his headlights turn around and I heard the car recede into blackness. Part of me was upset—I’d almost wanted him to chase me.

The other part was satisfied. I deserve this, I thought as I ran through the streets. I deserve this, and every single bad thing that’s ever happened to me.

My house was dark and silent when I got home. The windows were open, and occasionally, I could hear someone shouting Andrea’s name. I didn’t turn on the lights as I crept up the stairs and into my bathroom. I kept the lights off there, too. Instead, I turned on the shower as hot as it would go and shed my clothes before slipping under the torrent of scorching water.

Tilting my head up to face the spray, I tasted sweat and tears dried on my face as the water rinsed me clean. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Monica. Monica grinning and laughing, Monica with Henrik and Ligeia. Monica stabbing Andrea with her athame.

It no longer mattered what Monica had done.

In my eyes, I was worse.

Chapter Seven

Monica

“Well done, child,” Ligeia said after we’d successfully sent Elizabeth back to Jaffrey. “You’ve succeeded my wildest expectations.”

I licked my lips and stared at Andrea. Her frame sagged against the leather cords that bound her to the tree and blood still dripped from her chest.

It was a horrifying sight.

“What are you going to do with her now?” I walked closer. “She’s… she’s barely alive,” I added softly. “Should we just kill her and be done with it?”

Ligeia didn’t reply. “Henrik!” she called, her voice radiating with joy. “Tonight, we shall feast. Bring the others,” she added. “We’ll celebrate.”

Henrik laughed and nodded.

I blinked. It felt very odd to be standing there, celebrating as Andrea bled out. When Henrik saw me, he frowned.

“Child, you’re upset,” he said. “Tell me—what’s bothering you?”

I bit my lip. “What are you going to do with Andrea?”

Henrik laughed. “Child, don’t worry yourself with such matters. Come, Ligeia has spoken and we all must sup. There will be mead, perhaps even some venison if we’re lucky.” He rubbed his stomach. “I must speak to the pledges about keeping the larder stocked,” he added. “We don’t even have adequate provisions for such a celebration.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What are we celebrating, exactly?” I asked softly, crossing the clearing at Henrik’s side. He walked faster than usual, and I found myself trotting to keep up.

Henrik didn’t reply. We reached the larder and I stood at the door, anxiously grabbing handfuls of my shirt and tugging at the material.

“Tell me,” I said, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “Come on, Henrik. Don’t do this.”

“Child, hush,” Henrik said. “You’ll learn the truth, and soon.”

I frowned. Soon, the other witches in the coven danced and sang, chanting as they moved around the clearing. Ligeia passed a tumbler of mead around, handing it to me and congratulating me once again.

“I still don’t understand,” I said. “I thought you wanted to imprison her soul, not kill her. How are we going to do that? And wouldn’t we have to do it before she dies?”

Ligeia sighed. She rubbed her hand across her brow.

“Yes, child,” she said. “You’re correct.”

“But she’s dying, now,” I said. My heart thudded in alarm. When I’d stabbed her, I’d only meant it as a means to subdue her. I hadn’t worried that she would actually die. But Elizabeth’s histrionics were finally getting to me and I wondered if perhaps my best friend hadn’t been right.

“Yes.” Ligeia and Henrik exchanged a glance. “She is. She is losing power, rapidly. Right now, she is as weak as a newborn kitten.”

“So, do something about it,” I said quickly. “We can save her. Ligeia, I know you’re a gifted healer. Come on!”

Ligeia stared coldly. “No, child. We won’t rescue her.”

“What?” My jaw dropped. “If we were just going to kill her all along, why did you make me do this? Why not someone else?”

Ligeia and Henrik glanced at each other again.

“Dismiss,” Henrik called to the rest of the coven. “Ligeia and I must speak with the child. Alone,” he added firmly when no one moved. “I’ll call you all back as soon as we’re done.”

My stomach twisted. The mead had given me acrid heartburn and I swallowed, wincing as the pain flamed up and down my throat.

“Come, child,” Ligeia said. She caught me staring at Andrea’s body. “Come with me, by the hearth.”

I followed Ligeia into her hut and sat on a large, flat rock as she gathered herbs and set them to the side. She moved unusually fast—I wondered if she was nervous. Or Prudence’s dying spirit is giving her energy, I realized. What have I done?

"Forgive me, but I haven’t been entirely truthful with you,” Ligeia said softly. “Henrik, come!”

Henrik entered the hut, his body blocking the open door.

“Tis true, child,” Henrik said. “We’ve deceived you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What? Why?” My palms began to sweat and I wiped them on my jeans. “Tell me,” I added, glaring at Ligeia.

Henrik chuckled. “I have to say, child, I’m rather surprised. You’ve always struck me as quite intelligent.”

“Don’t toy with me,” I snapped. “What’s going on? Why are you letting Andrea die?”

Henrik raised an eyebrow.

The realization hit me like a cold punch to the gut.

“You don’t want to subdue her at all,” I said slowly. “You wanted me to bring her to you because you want her power for yourselves!”

Henrik smiled slightly. He nodded. “Yes,” he said. “That is, at least, partially true.”

“You’re… you’re a monster,” I said, backing away. My back hit the wall of the hut and I shrieked in surprise, jumping into the air.

“I am not,” Henrik said. “Please, you must understand it from my point of view.”

“You had to watch her die in the coven,” I said hotly. “You knew! You knew we would fail when we tried to kill her! You knew it would happen!”

“Aye,” Henrik said. He nodded. “Of that, I’m not proud,” he said. He shook his head and a twinkle came back to his eye. “But ‘tis over, now. And some of that power will be yours, too.”

“I don’t want it!” I yelled. “You’re not being rational! You killed an innocent girl, just for the power of her soul!”

Henrik shook his head. “Nay, child,” he said. “You killed her. You’re the one who stabbed her, did you not?”

My heart sank and I fell to my knees, knowing that Henrik was absolutely right.

“Please,” I whimpered. “Please, you have to understand that what you’re doing is wrong! Please, please don’t let her die!”

Henrik shook his head. “No,” he said. There was a sudden, new edge of anger in his voice. “Tell me, this, child—I’ve spent my whole life in hiding, because of what I am. And with this new power, we no longer have to hide.”

I shuddered at the implication of his words. “You… you wanted things to break into chaos,” I whispered. “You wanted it to happen because you’re going to be doing the same thing!”

“You spend your whole life in hiding, in the woods, eating berries, and tell me you wouldn’t wish for change!” Henrik thundered. “It’s natural!”

Tears streamed down my face as I turned to Ligeia. To my shock, she nodded in agreement.

“Aye,” she said softly. “Henrik is correct. The coven—our coven, child!—can return to a life of normalcy. We may live among whomever we choose! We’ll no longer have to hide, just to survive!”

I stared at her. “I can’t believe you,” I whispered. “I thought you were good! I thought you cared about the earth and the people!”

Ligeia smiled slightly. “I do,” she said. “But that becomes very hard upon realizing the earth no longer cares for me.”

I closed my eyes, feeling utterly defeated.

“Child, in time, you’ll come to see that this decision was for the good of the coven,” Ligeia said gently. “You, too, will benefit from the power of Prudence Arrowsmith, and you’ll be pleased that you were instrumental in her demise.”

“No,” I said. I shook my head. “You can tell yourself that, but I know I won’t ever feel that way.”

“In time, I believe you will,” Ligeia said. “But I know you’re upset right now.”

“No.” I shook my head. “That’s it, I’m leaving.”

“Child, stay and feast with us,” Henrik said. “You deserve it. You’ve truly pleased us, and you deserve a celebration.”

“No.” My mind spun as I walked to the door. For a moment, I didn’t think Henrik would let me pass. But he did, and I walked out into the clearing.

“Come back to us when you’re feeling better,” Henrik said, a touch of mockery in his voice. “I understand—you likely need to rest.”

I shook my head. “That’s not it,” I said. “I’m not coming back.”

“Child, of course you are. You’re a sworn member of the coven.”

“Fuck that,” I said. I shook my head and glared at Henrik. “I’m never coming back, no matter what happens. You get that?”

“Child, I must ask you to reconsider.”

“Tough shit. I can’t believe you,” I said. “I trusted you! And you lied to me!”

“I had to,” Henrik said. “Don’t you understand? This is for the best, child.”

“Nothing about this is for the best,” I said bitterly. “I killed a girl who used to be my friend! I stabbed her, Henrik!”

“So you did, all for our benefit,” Henrik said. “I’m proud of you, child.”

“Fuck you,” I snarled. “I’m never coming back.”

Turning on my heel, I ran into the woods and away from the hateful coven.

It took me longer than usual to find my way out of the enchanted woods. By the time I got back to Jaffrey, it was dark… but not quiet. The streets were filled with people screaming for Andrea. A lump of sadness and guilt formed in my throat and I shivered.

I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t feel like facing Jamie and Brian. I knew Elizabeth was angry with me… and it was likely that she’d be angrier still when I told her the truth. But I also knew that I couldn’t lie to her. She’d participated in this, just like me, and she deserved to know the truth.

Elizabeth’s house was dark. She can’t possibly be out looking for Andrea, I thought as I knocked on the door. After only a few seconds, I heard someone thumping down the stairs. When Elizabeth opened the door, her face was swollen and puffy. She wore pajama pants and a hoodie, with her hair in a mess of brown tangles hanging around her shoulders.

“Can I come in?”

Elizabeth didn’t look at me as she stepped aside.

“What’s wrong?”

Elizabeth shrugged. She led me into the kitchen and flopped down at the table.

“What happened to Andrea?” Elizabeth asked tonelessly. “Everyone is still looking for her,” she added quietly. “So, I guess she’s still alive, right? Because she’s still controlling everyone in Jaffrey?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “She’s still alive.”

Elizabeth swallowed. She glanced down at her hands in her lap, twiddling her thumbs and picking at her cuticles.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s bothering you?”

When Elizabeth glanced up, I saw the guilt written on her face as clear as day. I had a sudden vision of her and David, naked and tumbling over each other.

I stared. “Come on,” I said sharply. “Tell me.”

Elizabeth shrugged. “I’m sick,” she said. “That’s all. I’ve just been ill lately.”

“I don’t think that’s the whole truth,” I said. “Elizabeth, you can’t lie to me. We’re best friends.”

Elizabeth nodded slowly. “I know we are,” she said softly. “I know we are.”

Anger, confusion, and betrayal soared through my heart. Getting to my feet, I shrugged.

“I’m going home,” I said. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

Elizabeth didn’t reply.

Why, I thought as I let myself out of her house and into the street. It was more crowded than I’d seen in a long time. Parties of searchers, screaming Andrea’s name, passed by. They all clutched flashlights and Bibles.

I did this, I thought as I walked slowly through town. This is my fault.

“Monica!”

I looked up and saw Steven, rushing towards me. His face was streaked with tears. Like everyone else outside, he carried a Bible.

“What?” I looked at him dully. “What do you want, Steven?”

“We’re looking for Andrea,” Steven said. “She’s missing.” He sniffled and sobbed, wiping his nose on a damp tissue before stuffing it back in his pocket. “She’s been gone for days.”

“Oh.” Guilt stung me like a brand. “Yeah. Um, I was looking for her,” I lied.

“Let’s look together,” Steven said. “I can’t find Elizabeth anywhere. Her parents and brother are out, but she told me she was sick. She didn’t look sick,” he added in an accusing tone. “I think she’s faking because she’s lazy.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’ve never heard you say anything so critical of Elizabeth,” I said slowly. “I’m sure she’s just overwhelmed.” And maybe, yeah, a little tired. Because she fucked my boyfriend. I imagine that would tire someone out really fast.

“She’s not helping,” Steven said angrily. “The whole town is helping but Elizabeth doesn’t even care!”

Suddenly, an idea popped into my mind. “Steven,” I said slowly. “Let’s go over here, I bet no one has checked the alleys downtown.”

“Good idea,” Steven said. “You’re smart, Monica.”

I rolled my eyes, grateful for the darkness so he wouldn’t be able to see. “Sometimes I am.”

A plan formed in my brain. A plan to get Elizabeth back… and restore life to its rightful balance around Jaffrey. I won’t use my powers after this, I decided firmly. This will be the last time. And then that’s it. Everything will be back to normal.

“Hey, Steven,” I said. “I think I have something in my eye. Could you look?”

“Sure. We should hurry, though. If Andrea is in one of the alleys, we want to find her as soon as possible.”

You idiot, I thought. This will be too easy.

Steven shone his flashlight in my eyes and leaned in close. His brown eyes oozed with sincerity as he stared at me, locking his gaze with mine.

“Forget about Andrea,” I said. “She doesn’t exist. You don’t have a sister.”

“What?” Steven narrowed his eyes. “Monica, what’re you—”

“Shut up,” I growled. You’ve never had a sister, I thought. Andrea was a figment of the town’s imagination, like a myth. Like a legend. She was a folktale, a fantasy—no more real than Beauty and the Beast.

Steven’s brown eyes glazed over and rolled back in his head. “I never had a sister,” he mumbled.

“Yes,” I hissed. “You never had a sister. You have Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth…”

“Yes, Elizabeth.” I leaned in close, staring at Steven’s slack face. His jaw was open and he drooled slightly. “Elizabeth is meant for you, Steven.”

“Meant… for… me…”

“Yes, Steven,” I growled. “Meant for you.”

Steven’s lids fluttered closed and he collapsed to the ground. I rolled my eyes, then reached down for his flashlight and stuffed it in my bag. Cries of “Andrea! Andrea!” were all around me, but I didn’t care.

Anger boiled inside of me. A hot, new anger unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Anger at Elizabeth, for fucking David. Anger at Henrik and Ligia, for lying to me and treating me like I was a stupid little kid.

But most of all, anger with myself. I’d become the kind of person I hated—a naïve pawn, always being used for the benefit of others.

And the worst part?

I hadn’t even known it until Henrik had cruelly pointed it out to me. The whole time, they’d only been keeping me around for my close proximity to Andrea. They’d known that I’d do it, they’d known that I’d stab her.

I wanted to die.

Chapter Eight

Elizabeth

After Monica left, I was sure she knew. I was just waiting for the angry phone call—the one where Monica told me to kiss her friendship goodbye, and forget all about the coven. But then something very strange happened—something I’m still not sure about.

I felt like a piece of shit. My life had turned from horror movie into stupid teen comedy where the slutty girl sleeps with her best friend’s boyfriend. And I hated myself. I hated myself for not standing up to Monica, for participating in the coven.

The whole town still desperately searched for Andrea. That’s why I was so surprised to hear a knock at the door the next morning. What, I wondered irritably as I walked downstairs, still in my pajama pants and hoodie from the night before. I bet someone’s going to yell at me for not helping with the search. Hell, I can’t believe I’ve gotten away with staying home for so long, anyway.

When I opened the door, I was shocked. Monica and David stood there, grinning happily at each other with their arms around each other’s waist.

“Hey, can we come in? David drove into town and Jamie and Brian don’t have anything to eat. But I told him your mom always has stuff for sandwiches.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Uh, yeah,” I said, stepping back to let them both inside. “Are you okay?”

Monica smiled. “Of course I am,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Because I slept with your boyfriend, you know—the one standing right in front of me. And we both know it. And we both know that we both know. I struggled to smile as David and Monica walked into the kitchen. David didn’t even look at me—his eyes were glued to Monica. I bet she got really mad or something; maybe she threatened to hurt herself. When I remembered his words from that night in the car, about being done with her anyway, I felt angry and bitter. I bet he lied, I thought, following Monica. I bet he just lied so he could have a chance with me.

David sat down at the kitchen table, his eyes hanging off Monica like fur on a dog.

“Hey,” I said. “How are you?”

David didn’t look up.

The phone rang. Glad for a distraction, I grabbed the receiver and held it to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Elizabeth! I’m so glad it’s you!”

“…Steven?”

“It’s me!” I could tell by the tone of his voice that Steven was grinning. “Oh my God, it’s so good to hear your voice. I missed you, Elizabeth. I missed you so much.”

“Um, yeah,” I said slowly. “Did something happen? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, I just miss you.”

I bit my lip.

“Elizabeth? Elizabeth, are you still there?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m here.”

“I need you, Elizabeth. I need to see you. I need you,” Steven repeated. The intensity of his voice frightened me.

“You’re scaring me, Steven,” I said slowly. “Are you okay? Are you… I don’t know, stressed about Andrea?”

“No, no,” Steven said. “Trust me, I understand all about Andrea now. What a funny story.”

I frowned. Before I could ask what he meant, he kept going.

“When can I see you? Please, please let it be soon,” Steven said. “Elizabeth, I need you so much!”

“Maybe tomorrow?” I bit my lip. “I don’t know, Steven. I haven’t been really doing well. Remember, I told you I was sick.”

“I could come over, take care of you,” Steven said. “Do you like chicken soup when you’re sick? Oh! Crackers, and ginger ale!”

“You really don’t have to do that,” I said quickly. “I’m fine. Monica and David are over, and I think they’re going to make lunch.”

“Who’s David?” Steven asked in a sulky voice. “Elizabeth, I don’t like the idea of you hanging out with other guys. You’re mine,” he added. “I need you.”

Oh my God, he’s totally manic, I thought. I licked my lips. “Um, yeah,” I said. “Look, I’ll let you go, okay?”

“No!” Steven shrieked into the phone. “No, don’t hang up! Elizabeth, please!”

I grimaced as I set the phone back down in the cradle.

“What was that?” Monica glanced up. Her face was completely earnest. The sense of dread that had begun to grow inside of me during the phone call with Steven grew larger, and I swallowed hard.

“Steven,” I said. I narrowed my eyes. “He was acting really weird,” I said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but he sounded really manic.”

“I think he really likes you,” Monica said. She shrugged. “I ran into him last night and he couldn’t stop talking about you. I guess he’s finally ready to settle down and be a good boyfriend.”

“I don’t know that I want that, though,” I said slowly.

Monica spread mayonnaise on a slice of bread. At my words, she set the bread down on a plate and gave me a weird smile before walking over to David. Monica tangled her hands in David’s dark hair. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and smiled as Monica leaned down to kiss him.

“Why wouldn’t you want that?” Monica purred, standing up and smirking at me. “I thought you really wanted Steven, Elizabeth.”

“Yeah, Elizabeth,” David echoed. He smiled at me and I shivered. The intensity in his eyes—that tortured, dark look—had all but vanished. His voice didn’t even sound like it usually did, rough and raw around the edges from too many cigarettes.

What the fuck is going on, I wondered, staring at Monica and David as they cooed and cuddled, right in front of me. Why is she doing this? Is this to punish me, somehow? And how the hell did she get Steven in on the whole thing?

The sound of a loud knock at the door made me jump. Monica grinned. “Better answer that,” she said.

I bit my lip and walked nervously to the door. When I pulled it open, Steven stood there, grinning like a maniac. When he stepped inside, I gasped. His car was parked in my parents’ front lawn. Muddy skid marks marred the grass and I noticed the engine still ran.

“What’s wrong?” I asked Steven. “Why did you rush over here?”

Steven’s brown eyes glowed. He grabbed both of my hands and held them so tightly that it almost hurt.

“I had to see you,” Steven said. “Didn’t you miss me, Elizabeth? I had to come and see you as soon as I knew you were home. I love you!” He practically shouted the words before pulling me into a tight hug.

“Ugh, Steven,” I flinched and tried to push him away, but it was hard. His grip was like that of a football player. “Let me go,” I added, twisting loose and stepping back.

Steven stared at me, panting hard. He still grinned, but his mouth hung open.

“Don’t be mad, Elizabeth,” Steven said. “Don’t be mad about the lawn. I promise, I’ll fix it. Your parents will understand—I’ll tell them how crazy I am about their daughter!”

Oh my God, I thought, glancing from Steven to David. She brainwashed them. Both of them. My horror grew as Steven stepped into the kitchen. When he saw David, he balled his hands into fists.

“Who’s this?” Steven demanded, pointing to David. “I told you—Elizabeth, I don’t want you hanging out with other guys, okay? It’s not fair to us. It cheapens what we have.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “And… Steven, what is it that we have?” I asked in a shaky voice. “What are you talking about?”

Steven’s brown eyes glowed and he tried to pull me into another tight embrace. This time, I barely managed to wriggle free.

“We have true love,” Steven said. “I love you, Elizabeth,” he declared passionately. “And I need you.”

“Monica,” I said sharply. “I need for you a minute.”

“No!” Steven yelled. “Whatever you have to say to Elizabeth, you can say it to me,” he said hotly. “No secrets from us, Elizabeth!”

I groaned. “Monica and I need a few seconds of girl time,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “I won’t be long, okay? Just a few minutes.”

Steven’s intense look softened. “Okay,” he said. “Just don’t be too long. I miss you already,” he added.

I cringed. Monica came out of the kitchen, smiling smugly. I glared at her. Why, I thought as I led Monica through the house and into the bathroom. Locking the door behind us, I leaned against it and crossed my arms.

“Monica, what’s going on,” I asked softly. “Please, tell me—why are you doing this?”

“I admit, it’s a little intense,” Monica said. She licked her lips. “But it’s going to fade soon, Elizabeth, don’t worry. He’ll be normal… just give him a few weeks. It’s a pretty powerful spell,” she added.

“You brainwashed him,” I said incredulously. “He and David both! Why would you do that, Monica? Why?”

Monica smiled. “Because I had to,” she said. “Don’t you get it, Elizabeth? Now everything will work out for the best.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No! You have to fix it! You have to get Steven to stop… obsessing over me like this! It’s creeping me out, and I don’t even know that I want to be with him!”

“But you wanted to be with David,” Monica said coldly. “So I had to take matters into my own hands, Elizabeth.” She smiled. “Now everything will be perfect.”

“I can’t believe you,” I said sadly. “First Andrea, and now this? You’re crazy,” I said. “I can’t even believe this happening!”

Monica didn’t reply. I pushed past her and stormed down the hall and out of the house.

“Elizabeth, wait!” Steven called. “I have to be with you!”

“Later,” I yelled over my shoulder. Breaking into a run, I headed into the woods.

I ran and ran and ran, stumbling over branches and leaves. Soon, I was crying. But it didn’t feel bad this time—it felt almost good, like a catharsis. A painful stitch broke out in my side and I had to stop, leaning over my legs and resting my hands on my thighs. The day was the warmest that Jaffrey had been in months, but I wasn’t looking to stay in town.

I needed to find the coven. I had to make Ligeia and Henrik learn what Monica had done.

Because otherwise, I knew I could never go back home.

As soon as my side felt better, I broke into a fast jog and sprinted through the woods. The trees began to show buds, then greenery, then soon, there was grass under my feet. As I stumbled into the official clearing that signaled the opening to the coven, I knew I should feel satisfied. But all I felt was hot anger and betrayal, pumping through my veins.

There was no sign of Andrea, but I cringed at the bloodstains lingering on the tree. I wasn’t there for more than a minute when Ligeia glided up.

“Child,” she said softly. “I’m surprised to see you.”

I raised an eyebrow. I was breathing hard from my run and I knew my face was red and soaked with sweat and tears.

“Are you?” I panted. “Because somehow, I doubt that.”

Ligeia nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “But I’m surprised you were able to find us so easily. Tell me, child, is Monica with you?”

“No.” I curled my hands into fists and took a deep breath. “She doesn’t know I’m here.”

Ligeia’s look softened considerably. “Tell me, child, what’s troubling you? You look ill, and very sad,” she said.

“What happened to Andrea?” I swallowed nervously. “Where is she?”

“She is recovering, with some of the others,” Ligeia said. “I prepared a poultice for her wound and she is resting while she regains her strength.”

“And her soul?”

“Child, don’t worry of that now,” Ligeia said. She stepped closer and put an arm around my shoulders. At first, I resisted. But then I felt a strange calm blanketing me, and I closed my eyes and rested my head on Ligeia’s shoulder. She felt almost as comforting as David had.

“Child, I can tell you’re unhappy,” Ligeia said. “Please, lay your troubles on me. I’m your priestess. That, among many other things, is chiefly why I’m here.”

I sighed, then launched into the whole weird story. I even told her about sleeping with David, before Monica had returned from the coven. I cried, and Ligeia dried my tears on her robes. She gave me a cold compress for my forehead that smelled like witch hazel and lavender, and soon I felt more relaxed than I had in weeks.

Just as I was getting to the end of my story, Henrik appeared. He gave me a sympathetic smile and sat on the ground, leaning against a tree. He pulled a small piece of wood from his pocket and began whittling, whistling as he did so.

Suddenly, I realized that I actually felt… at home with Henrik and Ligeia, almost like the coven was where I truly belonged.
“Yes, child,” Ligeia said. She smiled sadly at me. “That is how I feel, too. My coven is the most important thing in the universe to me, don’t you understand?”

I bit my lip. “I’m starting to,” I said slowly. “At least, I think so.”

“Don’t worry,” Henrik said. “I can take care of everything… you’ll just need to give me some time. After all, you helped to perform a very important service for the coven, and your kindness will be remembered for a long time.”

“What do you mean?” I asked softly.

Henrik didn’t reply.

“Of course, Henrik will help you, child,” Ligeia said. “But you must swear your loyalty to the coven, above all.”

“I already have,” I said nervously. “Wasn’t that what my initiation was about?”

“Yes, child,” Ligeia said. “But we need your loyalty above all others. Above friends, above family.”

I hesitated. Even though I was furious with her, Monica was still my best friend. But before I could speak, Ligeia took me in her arms and held her hand over my eyes.

“This is your future,” she said, as images swirled in front of my eyes.

I gasped in horror.

“You must swear,” Ligeia said. “Swear to me, swear to Henrik. Swear your loyalty.”

“I swear to be loyal,” I said softly. Horrifying images kept flashing in front of my eyes and soon I trembled in fear.

“You must betray, in order to restore balance,” Ligeia said. “Say it, child. Say you will.”

“I will,” I whispered. “I will.”

“Now sleep, child,” Ligeia said. “Sleep, and when you wake, all will be well.”

That was the last thing I heard before losing consciousness.

THE END

Book 5: The Journey

Prologue

Elizabeth – Present Day

“Hi.”

I struggled to open my eyes and sit up on the uncomfortable cot. My joints were aching and I was freezing cold, but when I reached for my blanket, I saw that it had slipped to the floor. That voice, I thought, the gears of my mind still trying to churn out the last of my sleep. I know it.

Monica was sitting right in front of me, with her legs folded underneath her body.

A chill of fear ran down my spine. She looked almost exactly the same as she had seven years ago. Her blonde hair was longer and her pale skin was tanned from spending so much time in the woods.

“Hi,” Monica repeated. “You were sleeping for hours,” she added. She yawned. “I was getting bored.”

My mouth went dry and I wiped my palms on my thighs. The chill air of the hut made me feel raw, exposed – almost like I had a hangover.

“I know, you’re probably confused,” Monica said. She tossed her hair over one shoulder and yawned. “Ligeia didn’t tell me, either.”

“I’m sorry,” I said nervously. I bit my lip. “I…I wasn’t expecting this.”

Monica raised an eyebrow. “Elizabeth, you came looking for me in the woods,” she said quietly. “What were you thinking would happen?”

I bit my lip, unable to speak. “The last time I saw you…”

“God, I’m so sick of talking about seven years ago,” Monica said irritably. She stood up – she was taller, but I still had a solid head on her – and crossed the room. Her body was different, too: she was still slender and petite, but leaner. Muscles bunched underneath her legs like coiled springs.

Monica poured water from a jug into a stone cup and brought it over, handing it to me. Her expression was both amused and bored.

“How…how have you been?” I asked weakly.

Monica laughed, but it wasn’t a joyful sound. She shrugged, then took the cup back and downed half the water, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

“You know. Guarding Andrea,” she replied as if it was the most natural answer in the world.

I bit my lip. “I’ve missed you,” I said cautiously.

Monica’s eyes flew to my left hand and I tucked my hands beside me, squirming uncomfortably.

“So, you and Steven?”

Now it was my turn to shrug. “We were together for a long time. I’m pretty sure it’s run it’s course.”

“But you were engaged.”

I narrowed my eyes. “How did you know that?”

Monica giggled and I felt a sudden flame of irritation.

“Elizabeth, did you forget that I’m a witch?”

It was a struggle not to roll my eyes. “Well, I couldn’t reach you for a long time,” I said crossly. “I had no idea where you’d gone.”

“Elizabeth, don’t be stupid,” Monica said. “You knew. You knew, David knew, everyone did. But you didn’t really ask about me until now.”

That stung. I licked my lips and pulled my hair into a messy knot, tying it with the band on my wrist. This didn’t feel good – at least, not in the way I’d assumed. It was good to see Monica, but I was more confused than ever.

“So, are you staying?”

I frowned. “I don’t know,” I said. “Things are…really messed up right now.”

Monica yawned. “Don’t be so dramatic,” she said. “I’m sure it’s fine, Elizabeth. You’re still so whiny,” she added critically.

“I’m not whining,” I shot back. “You were the one who manipulated Steven and David.” I shook my head – the memories were coming back now, as strong as a waterfall. “Why did you do that? How could you do something like that, to people who really cared about you?”

“What is this, the inquisition?” Monica flipped her hair and stood up, slamming the cup down on the wooden table with more force than necessary. “Elizabeth, I did what was best, for both of us. If you haven’t grown up enough to see it, then I really don’t know what to say.”

My heart sank and I sighed heavily. “Right,” I said slowly, trying not to let my exasperation show. “Look, I know you were doing what you thought was best, but…I don’t know, Monica. Things are really different now.”

Monica gave me an annoyed look. “It’s not my fault if your relationship isn’t working out,” she said. “You should be nicer to Steven – I thought you’d be happy with him worshipping you day in and day out.”

“Things didn’t stay like that, though,” I snapped. “Everything changed.”

“It shouldn’t have,” Monica said arrogantly. “When?”

I frowned. Closing my eyes, I thought back through the years. “Three years ago.”

“Nothing should have changed at all,” Monica said. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” I exclaimed hotly, jumping out of bed and glaring at her. “I swear. I went on a trip and when I came back…Steven was different. Things were different.”

Monica looked sour. “Well, of course things changed then,” she said. She sniffed the air. “If you leave, your hold on him weakens.”

“Maybe you should have told me that,” I thundered back. “I had no way of knowing!”

Monica looked at me dully. “You really are stupid sometimes,” she said bitterly, shaking her head. “This hasn’t been easy on me, either, Elizabeth. I’ve had to give up practically everything. You, David, everyone I really loved.”

I sank back down. I knew that despite her cold manner, she was absolutely right. In the end, Monica hadn’t had things any easier than I had.

“So, she’s alive, then,” I whispered softly. “Andrea.”

“Well, she’s not exactly dead,” Monica said. She inhaled sharply. “And if you knew half of what went on around here behind your back, well, I think you’d—“

“Hello, Elizabeth,” Ligeia said pleasantly. She sailed into the hut, looking every inch the regal forest queen. I knew it was crazy, but somehow, she seemed even younger and more powerful than she had been the last time I’d seen her.

Monica tensed. “Hello, Ligeia,” she said stiffly. “I’m speaking to Elizabeth right now, mind giving us some privacy?”

Ligeia smiled. “I see no reason for that,” she said. “We are all family here, are we not?”

Monica glared and I bit my tongue, feeling confused. Was it simply that spending so much time together had bred contempt between Monica and Ligeia?

Or was something going on – something I had no idea of?

“Elizabeth, come help,” Ligeia said. She smiled at me. “We’re feasting tonight, did Monica tell you? You’re more than welcome to stay,” she added. “We’re always so pleased to see one of our own.”

“I think she has to go,” Monica said quickly. She shot me a nervous look. “Don’t you, Elizabeth? You were just talking about how you have to get back home, to Steven,” she added. “Remember?”

I blinked. “Um, I guess,” I said nervously.

Ligeia cocked her head to the side and gave me a funny look. “Monica, why not go and help the others,” she said. I could tell her tone was more a command than a suggestion. “Elizabeth and I have some things to discuss.”

“I was just leaving,” I said, getting to my feet and shoving my hands in my pockets. My jeans were damp from sleeping in Ligeia’s hut and I was chilled the bone. But I knew, deep down, that my true reason for discomfort had nothing to do with the temperature or my messy state.

Something was going on, and as usual, I was going to be the last to know.

“Elizabeth, don’t go, not just yet,” Monica said. She gave me a pleading glance behind Ligeia’s back. “At least, not right now – we have some things to discuss. Remember?”

“I need some time,” I said. I shook my head, biting my lip and keeping my eyes away from Monica. It felt too much like looking at a ghost, even though I knew full well that she was alive.

“Come, Elizabeth,” Ligeia said.

“No,” Monica said. She glared at me and crossed her arms over her chest. “Elizabeth, wait. Don’t go,” she added sharply.

I looked at her, feeling helpless. The worst the memories – an image of Monica stabbing a teenaged Andrea in the chest with her athame – was plaguing my mind, and I couldn’t bear to look at her. If you hadn’t done that, where would we be now, I wondered sadly. Would we actually have normal lives?

“Elizabeth, please don’t go,” Monica said. She looked at me, pleading with her brown eyes.

“Monica, do as I’ve said,” Ligeia said curtly. “Leave us.”

Monica gave me one last look – a strange blend of scorn, pity, and helplessness – before striding out of the hut, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

“What was that about?” I turned to Ligeia. “What is she talking about?”

Ligeia gave a small shrug. “You know Monica,” she said. “Always going on about something or another.”

I bit my lip. “She said she had to talk to me.”

“Pay her no mind,” Ligeia said. “Come, child.”

“I’m twenty-two,” I said crossly. “I’m not a child.”

Ligeia laughed – it was a pleasant sound, even if I knew she was mocking me.

“Compared to me, almost everyone is a child,” Ligeia said. She took her walking stick and guided me out of the hut, setting a brisk pace across the grassy meadow. As always, the perpetual spring weather of the coven enchanted me. It felt like forever since I’d seen a blue sky, and I craned my neck as we walked across the clearing.

“So, you have regained your friend,” Ligeia said. “And now there is the matter of repaying the coven, Elizabeth. Have you already forgotten the promises you made?”

“No, I haven’t,” I said stiffly. “But I can’t do anything right now. I have to go home, Ligeia.”

“Excuse me?” Ligeia gave me a haughty look. “You mustn’t think of refusing me, Elizabeth. I am your elder.”

“I’ll come back,” I said quickly. “But there are some…well, I have to do some stuff at home first. I don’t know how long I’m going to be here, and I can’t just leave at the moment.”

Breaking from Ligeia’s side, I burst into a run and ran until my sides ached. A strange female voice echoed in my ears – a blend of Monica’s cheerful bitterness and Ligeia’s aged tones. Closing my eyes, I pushed myself harder and harder, my feet slapping the earth.

“You cannot run from me,” Ligeia called. “You forget, Elizabeth,” she said. “You cannot leave me so quickly.”

“No,” I called over my shoulder. “I told you – I have to go back. Things…things aren’t right, at least, not now. Just give me some time, and then I’ll come back, I promise.”

Ligeia appeared in front of me, floating in the air. Her ivory robes whipped around her wizened flesh and her blue eyes burned brighter than ever before.

“Elizabeth,” Ligeia said. “This is a warning. If you leave, we cannot assure you of anything. And your betrayal will not be so easily forgotten.”

“I’m not leaving forever,” I said quickly. “I told you – I just have some things that I have to take care of, that’s all. I’ll be back. I promise.”

“This is what you wanted, remember?” Ligeia glared. “You wanted your best friend, your Monica. And now she has returned, and yet you are still not happy. Why, Elizabeth?”

“Because,” I growled through gritted teeth. “She’s not the same.”

“Isn’t she?” Ligeia clicked her tongue against her teeth and shook her head. “Or have you just remembered things which you’d rather have forgotten?”

The words hit me like a punch to the chest. Dropping to my knees, I closed my eyes and surrendered to my own emotions. Tears came to my lids and I blinked them back hotly, covering my face with my hands.

“I just don’t know why I was able to forget everything that happened,” I moaned, sniffling. “I don’t know why I forgot! And now, I can’t un-see the past. I can’t…” I trailed off, biting my lip and sighing. “I can’t forget about her stabbing Andrea.”

Ligeia gave me a cold look. “You are weak, child,” she said. “Take time – return home, regain your strength.”

Relief washed over me.

“But then you will return,” Ligeia said harshly. “You will return, and serve me, for as long as I please.” She held her chin high in the air.

As I ran from the coven, I wondered just what exactly Ligeia had in mind.

Chapter One

Elizabeth – Seven Years Ago

The image of Monica and David entwined was burned onto my brain. Between that and Steven’s sudden need for me, I felt sick. I ran into the woods, pushing and plunging through the green leafy darkness. By now, my feet seemed to know the way, even if my mind didn’t. Branches and twigs lashed at my face and arms and after a few minutes of silence, my face was wet with perspiration.

It’s not fair, I thought as I plunged on, in search of the coven. We’re both witches – why is she the one with all the power?

For once, the woods were sympathetic to my plight. I hadn’t been running for long when the trees began thin. Leaves and buds and flowers appeared, and the cold weather turned into a pleasant spring day. Soon, I was in the middle of the clearing.

Several witches were seated in a circle, giggling and whispering. When they saw me, all chatter stopped. One of them looked up, made eye contact, then blushed and dipped her head as the others laughed.

”What’s your problem,” I muttered under my breath as I stalked across the thick grass, towards Ligeia’s hut.

Ligeia turned from the hearth and wiped her hands on her apron.

“Why, Elizabeth, what a pleasant surprise,” Ligeia said. She smiled and held a pitcher of water towards me. “Water?”

I grabbed the jug from her and sat down in a huff, drinking from the lip of the container until cold water trickled down my chin and soaked the front of my shirt.

“Enough, child,” Ligeia said. She took the pitcher from me and frowned, wiping the edge where I’d drank with a cloth.

“She’s doing it again,” I said hotly, crossing my arms over my chest. “She’s manipulating them.”

“Who, child?”

I glared at her. “You know what I mean,” I said sharply. “You know how strong she is – you know what she’s capable of.”

Ligeia nodded. “Monica is intelligent,” she said. “I’m sure she’s doing what she thinks is best.”

“Well, she could’ve asked me!” I yelled hotly. “She could’ve at least said something, you know? How is this fair,” I added, shaking my head in disgust. “She’s ruined everything.”

Ligeia shook her head. “The spirit of Prudence will no longer be a problem,” she said, raising her hands in the air. “Are you going to tell me that your social needs are somehow more important than the needs of the coven? Of your community? Elizabeth, I’m disappointed in you.”

I squinted and frowned. “I’m confused,” I said slowly. “How does the spirit of Prudence have anything to do with Monica’s lies?”

Ligeia sighed. “Trust me, child, it is all for the best,” she said. “Now, things are slowly returning to normal for you, isn’t that true? So perhaps you should go home and enjoy it,” she added.

I blinked. “What?”

“Child, we have no use for you right now,” Ligeia said. “I know you’re feeling uncomfortable, but really, this will pass. Trust me,” she said softly. “I promise – I know what is best for you.”

Before I could respond, Ligeia clapped her hands together and a thick cloud of smoke billowed through the air. I coughed and heaved, covering my mouth and nose with both hands and keeping my eyelids tightly shut. I felt my body whirling and soaring through the air.

Coward, I thought as I crashed down to the ground, landing painfully on my hands and knees. She couldn’t even be bothered to argue with me!

After a few seconds, the smoke cleared and I sniffled, glancing around my room with disinterest. Ligeia had never done that before – spirited me away before I could even protest. It made me angry. I knew I had no right to feel so burned. Ligeia was the most powerful witch in the coven, but still. She’d never been so impatient with me before.

I rolled my eyes and flopped down on my bed just as the door swung open. Mom was standing there, her head cocked to the side.

“Hi, honey,” Mom said. “Were you out? I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yeah,” I lied. “I was with Monica. What’s up?”

“Well, the weather is so nice today – Aidan and I were thinking of going down to the lake and having lunch. Want to come along?”

I frowned.

“Honey, what’s the matter?” Mom stepped into the room and laughed, looking slightly guilty. “I hope you’re not getting too depressed about having to go back to school again.”

“Actually, I completely forgot about that,” I said. I bit my lip.

Mom laughed. “I’m not surprised,” she said. She sighed. “I hope you kids won’t have to repeat the year.”

I groaned. “Me, neither,” I said.

“Still, you should try getting back into the swing of things, honey,” Mom added. “I know it’s hard – things were pretty scary for a while.” She smiled sympathetically. “But it’s all over now, and I’m sure everything will be fine.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure you’re right.”

“So, what’ll it be? Are you coming?”

“I think I’m going to take a walk,” I said. I rolled off my bed and pulled on a pair of loafers. “Maybe go see Monica.”

“Weren’t you just with her?” Mom narrowed her eyes. “You girls aren’t getting into anything untoward, are you?”

I laughed nervously. “No, I meant Steven,” I added, looking down so Mom wouldn’t see that I was blushing. “We’re fine. You know – just drama with her boyfriend, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Mom said. “Well, you girls are at that age.” She sighed. “Given any thought to college?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Mom, that’s like, years away. Why?”

Mom looked guilty. “Well, now that you mention Steven – he dropped some things off at the house for you.”

“Like what?”

Mom handed me a few colorful, glossy pamphlets. They were all for local schools – Monadnock U, a couple of places in Vermont.

“Why did he leave these here?”

Mom smiled. “I guess he likes you, and he’s getting ready to graduate,” she said. She shrugged. “Maybe he’s hoping you’ll pick the same school.”

I blushed uncomfortably. “Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”

“You don’t…want to talk about this, do you?” Mom stepped closer. “You know, Elizabeth, you can always come to me. I want to know how you’re feeling.”

“No,” I said quickly. “I mean, I’m fine. Thanks, Mom.”

Mom nodded. I could tell she was uncomfortable – heck, probably almost as uncomfortable as I was feeling. She set the brochures down on my bedside table, patted me awkwardly on the head, and then walked out of my room.

I stared at the pamphlets for a few seconds before grabbing them and flipping through. Steven hadn’t left a note, or anything like that but I was hesitant to call him – was he always going to be this eager? How long would it take for Monica’s spell to wear off?

God, why did she do that, I thought angrily, crumpling the glossy papers into a ball and throwing them into the trash.

Curling up into a ball, I pulled the covers over my head and went to sleep.

When I woke up, it was getting dark outside. I could hear from the chatter and bangs downstairs that Mom and Aidan were back – likely getting dinner ready. Even though I’d been asleep for hours, I still felt tired and achy. Maybe I’m getting sick, I thought, wrinkling my nose as I climbed out of bed and pulled on a sweater. Great. That’s the last thing I need right now.

Downstairs, Mom was banging around the kitchen while Aidan sat at the table, a thick booklet laid out in front of him. Mom beamed when she saw me.

“Hi, honey, you missed a great time at the lake – lots of people were there, we had so much fun. Didn’t we, Aidan?”

“Yeah,” Aidan grunted. He didn’t look up. “This isn’t fair, Mom,” he whined. “It’s not fair! I didn’t miss so much school on purpose!”

Mom gave me a guilty grin. “Honey, the schools all sent over these books, for catching up,” she said. “Yours is in the hall.”

My heart sank as I walked into the foyer and saw a book, probably twice as thick as Aidan’s, perched on the hall table. I grabbed it and feigned a grunt of pain as I lugged it into the kitchen.

“Think of how nice this will be,” Mom chirped. “They’re not going to make you go through the summer sessions after all!”

I rolled my eyes as I flipped through my book. There was a huge section on geometry, which I hadn’t even taken yet, as well as three hundred pages of reading on modern European history.

“They probably just don’t want to pay the teachers through the summer,” I snapped, flipping through the pages. “Aidan’s right. We shouldn’t have to do this crap.”

“Language, Elizabeth!” Mom put her hands on her hips. “And I know, it’s not exactly fun. But honey, life isn’t fair. Besides, wouldn’t you rather go back to school than deal with that awful curfew?”

I frowned. “Neither sounds particularly appealing,” I said. “Besides, how the heck am I supposed to get all of this done before school starts?”

“They probably won’t care if you don’t,” Aidan said moodily. “There’s no way the teachers are going to have time to grade all of these. They’re just covering their asses.”

“Aidan! Language!”

“Sorry, Mom,” Aidan said glumly. He heaved a huge sigh.

I stared at my younger brother, wondering if it would ever be possible to have a “normal” relationship with him. Aidan was only two years younger, but now that we were both teenagers, those two years felt like a wide gulf. And honestly, when I looked at him, it was hard to fathom that Andrea was only one year older. She and Aidan were about as different as two human beings could be.

Looking at Aidan also reminded me of Andrea and Steven. I shuddered, wondering how it feel to be attracted to your own sibling.

“Elizabeth?” Mom was staring at me. “You okay? You’re spacing out again,” she added.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “I’m going to take this over to Steven’s, I wonder if he got one, too.”

Mom nodded. “Maybe you can talk about college,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

I flushed. “Maybe.”

I had no intention of even bringing up those stupid brochures, but I had to admit that I was kind of curious. Running upstairs, I changed into a nicer pair of jeans and brushed my hair before sticking my giant workbook in my backpack and leaving. Mom was right – it was nice outside, I could actually tell that spring was on the way.

It felt strange to be outside, alone and unaccompanied, as I walked to the D’Amicos house. Maybe Mom was right about that, too, I thought, skipping to the side to avoid a puddle. Maybe I just got used to living in a police state – maybe things really are going to be better.

But somehow, knowing that Monica’s magic was behind all of this just made me feel weird. It was like looking at a model home, or a fake little village in a train set – something about it was almost creepily off from the real world. I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself, walking faster until I was almost panting.

I was walking up the driveway when Steven opened the door. He saw me and grinned, his cheeks going red.

“Hey,” Steven said. “I had a feeling you were coming over. What’s up?”

“Did my mom call or something?” I rolled my eyes. “I just decided to leave now.”

Steven shook his head. “No,” he said, still grinning. “I just knew. We’re meant to be, Elizabeth.”

Ugh, I thought as I trudged up the driveway and onto the front porch. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Mrs. D’Amico was bustling around in the kitchen. As usual, she barely looked my way as Steven led me inside.
“Mom, can Elizabeth stay for dinner?”

“Oh, I don’t need to,” I said quickly. “I’m sure my mom expects me.”

To my shock, Mrs. D’Amico turned towards me and smiled. It was so strange – I’d never seen her look at me with anything other than complete disdain.

“That would be nice, Elizabeth. Steven talks about you so often! Don’t you go breaking my little boy’s heart,” she added, wagging a finger in the air.

“Um, okay,” I said nervously. “I’ll have to call my mom and ask if I can stay, though.”

Steven pressed the kitchen phone into my hand. “I hope she says it’s okay,” he added fervently. “I really want you to stay, Elizabeth.”

I blinked.

“We’re having yumasetta, Amish casserole!” Mrs. D’Amico chirped. “Very healthy, Elizabeth, I’m sure your mother would approve.”

As discreetly as I could, I reached behind my back and pinched my arm as hard as possible.

“Ouch!” I yelped.

“Elizabeth!” Steven looked at me with ghastly concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Um, nothing,” I lied. Glancing down at my arm, I saw a faint purple bruise beginning to form. “I just hit my arm earlier.” Steven gave me an alarmed look and I forced a smile. “It’s really nothing,” I added quickly. “I’ll be fine.”

Steven and his mother stayed in the kitchen as I went into the hall to call home. Staring at the photos on the wall, a chill came over me.

There were no photos of Andrea.

Nothing – not even family portraits that I could have sworn I’d seen before featuring her round face. My stomach twisted and churned and my fingers were cold and numb as I dialed. When my mom answered, she sounded far away.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mom,” I said patiently. “I’m at Steven’s, he wants to know if I can stay for dinner.” Please don’t say yes, I added in my head. Please, don’t.

“Oh, sure! You know, this works perfectly – Aidan has a little friend he wanted to invite over, but we wouldn’t have had enough.”

I suppressed a groan. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll be home right after,” I said.

“Oh, no rush! You can stay as late as you want!”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said through gritted teeth. “See you later.”

When I hung up, I whirled around and gasped. Steven was standing right there, staring at me with hunger in his eyes.
“She said yes,” he said quickly. “She must have, right?”

“She did,” I said. “But she wants me home pretty early, sorry I can’t stay late.”

“I’ll drive you home,” Steven said quickly. “Don’t even worry about it.”

Dinner was chilling. I pushed the mixture of ground beef, American cheese, and noodles around on my plate. I had less than zero appetite – I couldn’t stop glancing over at the wall, searching each photo for Andrea’s chubby face.

“So, Elizabeth,” Mrs. D’Amico said. She smiled. “Steven tells me you’re thinking of going to college at the U of Vermont, like he’s planning. Is that true?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. A disastrous feeling came over me and I gripped the table hard so I wouldn’t faint. “I haven’t really thought about it yet. I mean, that’s two years off for me.”

“That’s not what Steven said,” Mrs. D’Amico replied. She smiled again and I shrank against the back of my chair.

“We can talk about it later,” I said, glancing at Steven. “I just don’t really see the point of deciding, at least not right now.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I winced as Steven tightened his grip around his fork and stabbed at his dinner.

“Excuse me,” I said, pushing my chair back and standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

Leaving my napkin on my plate, I scurried to the downstairs bathroom and sat down on the toilet, still fully clothed. Burying my face in my hands, I could hardly keep from hyperventilating.

Why did you do this, I thought angrily, picturing Monica’s smug smile in my mind. Why would you deliberately make things so difficult for me?

I stayed in the bathroom for so long that my thighs went numb, pressed against each other on the porcelain seat. I could hear footsteps pacing back and forth in the hall outside.

“Elizabeth?”

I groaned. “I’ll be right out,” I called loudly. “Just give me a second!”

Rolling my eyes, I got to my feet and flushed the toilet for effect, washing my hands until my fingers were numb from the cold water.

“Elizabeth?”

“I said I’m coming!”

When I left the bathroom, Steven was standing there, looking worried.

I forced a smile. “We should probably get back to the table,” I said. “I don’t want to make your mom worry.”

Steven shrugged. Behind him, my eyes caught sight of a family photo – again, there was no sign of Andrea. A chill ran down my spine.

“Look, Elizabeth, I really want to talk about schools,” Steven said urgently. He stepped closer and took both of my hands in his own. “I know you think it’s too early to start deciding, but you’re wrong.” His eyes burned bright with intensity.

“Well, I’m only fifteen,” I said softly. “Steven, I’m not due to graduate for another two years – and that’s even if I somehow manage to pass this one!”

Steven glared. “I just think it’s important that we’re close together,” he said. “Don’t you?”

I sighed. “I know you do, Steven,” was all I could say. “I know you do.”

Chapter Two

Elizabeth

I knew that I should’ve been grateful for the chance to go back to school – after months of being cooped up inside my parents’ house or the coven, just getting to be outside by myself was exciting. But everything had changed – now that I was Steven’s girlfriend, school was a completely different experience.

I could hardly go anywhere without a group of girls staring at me and whispering in hushed tones under their collective breaths. It was insanity – I’d never even been noticed before.

And now, I was suddenly popular.

“God,” Monica sniffed as we walked down the hall. “You’re turning a lot of heads.”

I bit my lip and flushed. “No thanks to you,” I muttered.

“You should be enjoying this,” Monica said. She cocked her head to the side and smiled. “I thought this was, you know, the goal.”

“We’re so past the goal that I don’t even know where we’re going,” I replied, pushing past her and into class just as the bell shrieked above my head.

Monica followed behind me, holding herself stiff and upright.

“Hey, Hartsell!”

I looked up and narrowed my eyes. A group of jocks – Steven’s friends – were sitting in the back of the room, motioning for me to come over.

“What is it?” My legs were unsteady as I walked closer. Despite the fact that everyone seemed to genuinely like me, I couldn’t get past the idea that they were making fun of me. I’d spent most of my life being what Monica not-so-affectionately referred to as a “try-hard.”

Now, the idea that I was genuinely liked on my own…well, that was unfathomable.

“Party tonight,” one of them – Greg, maybe? – said, grinning. “You and Steve are coming, right?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I said, feeling more lame and awkward than ever. “He hasn’t mentioned it to me.”

The guy grinned. “Well, too bad, you’re coming,” he said. “We want D’Amico there.”

“Okay.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “So I’m gonna go sit down, okay?”

“Stay here,” the guy said. He shrugged and lifted his mass off the small desk, rearranging his legs. When he was standing, I saw he was more than a foot taller than I. I flushed – I still wasn’t used to being in such close contact with guys since they’d gotten so tall and burly. It seemed like yesterday that I’d been the tallest person in my class.

Just as I was about to say something about Monica, the second bell rang and the teacher strode into the room. Flashing Monica a guilty grin, I sank down into a chair at the back of the class. It felt almost like I was breaking some kind of rule – I’d never sat in the back before.

Sorry, I thought when Monica glared at me. I shrugged. You did this, I added silently. So don’t be too mad

But when class was over and the bell rang again, Monica leapt out of her seat and ran. She was out of the room before I even made it to the front of the class.

Greg (or whatever his name was) punched me on the shoulder.

“Yo, your friend – she pissed?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I said.

“She can come, too,” Greg said. “I mean, she’s had parties before.” He wrinkled his nose. “Just make sure she’s cool.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing full well that Monica wouldn’t be interested at all.

“Sure,” I muttered. “I’ll ask her.”

---

After school, I did my homework as quickly as I could, then wolfed down some dinner and took a long shower. By the time I got back to my room, my mom was standing there, looking out the window with her hands on her hips.

“I’m going to a party tonight,” I said. “I hope that’s okay.”

Mom nodded. “I’m glad to see you doing things again,” she said. She gave me a sly smile. “Is Steven going to be at this party?”

I flushed. Whenever Steven and I were apart, it was almost easy to forget how crazy he’d gone.

“Yeah,” I said after a pause. “He’s picking me up.”

“Well, just be home before two,” Mom said. “How’s school going?”

I frowned. “I can’t believe you’re letting me go this easily,” I said. “I mean, I’m not complaining.” I swallowed hard, still clutching the towel around my damp body. “But it just seems kind of strange.”

My mom laughed nervously. “I know,” she said. “I feel it, too, honey. But…” She trailed off, biting her lip. “You’re growing up. And this past year has been really hard on you, I know it has.”

I nodded. “Yeah,” was all I could manage in response. “You’re right.”

“Is Monica going?”

Crap, I thought. I completely forgot. I must have looked guilty because Mom let out another nervous little laugh.

“What, she doesn’t like Steven?”

“It’s not exactly that,” I said. I swallowed. “I should call her. Maybe she’d want to come.”

My mom nodded. “That would be nice.” She gave a little shrug as she walked to the door. “I’ll let you get dressed. Sorry if I was hovering, honey.”

Mom left, closing the door behind her. As soon as I heard her moving down the stairs, I threw off my towel and grabbed a fresh pair of underwear from my drawer. Then I got dressed in my favorite black jeans and an off-the-shoulder top. I’d barely finished running a brush through my still-damp hair when I heard Steven’s knock on the door.

“Honey!” Mom yelled. “Steven’s here!”

Despite my anxiety, I couldn’t help but feel at least a little bit of excitement. The last party I’d gone to had been that disastrous affair that Monica had thrown, right before all of the trouble started. Something told me that tonight wouldn’t be anything like that.

Honestly, I didn’t know if that was good or bad.

Steven grinned when he saw me.

“You look awesome,” Steven said. “Ready?”

I nodded. As we walked out to the car, things felt surprisingly…normal between us. Steven opened the door for me and I scooted inside, tucking my legs over the books on the floorboards.

“So, your mom is okay with this?” I asked, running my hand over the door handle. “She didn’t like, flip out that you wanted to go to a party? With me?”

“My mom is fine,” Steven said. He twisted the key in the ignition and slowly backed down the driveway, putting his hand on my shoulder as he looked through the back window. “How are you?”

I shrugged. “It felt weird to go back to school,” I said slowly. “I think Monica is mad.”

“She’s probably jealous,” Steven said nonchalantly. His comment bothered me more than it should have.

“Maybe,” I said, not wanting to get into a fight. “So…this is at Greg’s house?”

Steven laughed. “His name is Gary,” he said. “But yeah – his parents went on vacation as soon as the curfew was lifted.”

“Wow,” I said. “Must be nice.”

“He has an awesome place,” Steven said. He looked at me and I saw the wild lust flash in his eyes. “And I’m happy to be with you,” he added in a husky voice that made me uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” I said. “Um, thanks for picking me up. My mom says I have to be home before two. Is that okay?”

“Sure,” Steven said. He pulled onto the two-line highway and sped up, flying over the black pavement.

I shifted uncomfortably, tugging the seat belt away from my neck as he drove. We lapsed into silence, but it didn’t feel natural. Maybe it’s because things are still so new that we’re getting used to each other, I thought, gnawing at my lip. Maybe it’ll be easier with other people around.

But the party wasn’t anything like Monica’s had been. Greg -- er, Gary – had a huge house, or rather, his parents did. It wasn’t like the Boers’ home, either – it looked like every room had been decorated by some famous designer from Boston.

Inside, it was nearly impossible to hear anything. Steven held my hand and stuck close to my side as we wove through the crowd. In the living room, someone had put on loud music and the whole room seemed to be shaking. The floor was filled with kids jumping up and down and dancing, spilling beer from red plastic cups.

“Want a drink?” Steven practically had to yell in my ear.

“Yeah!” I yelled back. “I’ll stay here!”

Steven said something I couldn’t understand, but he smiled before he turned and pushed his way into the kitchen. I recognized all of the popular kids from school, feeling a twinge of guilt that I hadn’t invited Monica. She wouldn’t have had fun, I thought, trying to justify the decision to myself. This isn’t her scene at all.

The music changed and I stumbled as a huge wave of kids pushed past me, storming into the room and cheering. I rolled my eyes – a Journey song was blasting from the huge sound system. We weren’t even alive when this stupid song came out, I thought, pushing my way past a circle of girls dancing, holding hands and shaking their butts. I almost laughed as I thought about what Monica would say, she’d probably call them sheep or lemmings or something.

“Here!” Steven shouted, so loudly that I jumped. He pushed a red cup into my hand. “I know you hate beer, so I got you some of the punch!”

I held the cup to my nose and sniffed cautiously. “Oh my god,” I mumbled. “What is this? Paint thinner?”

Steven laughed. “I love your sense of humor!” He shouted. “Come on, let’s dance! I love this song.”

Of course you do, I thought as I tilted the cup back and drank. Whatever was inside – some kind of sticky pink liquid that burned my tongue and throat. I sputtered and coughed, choking the last few sips down like it was some of Ligeia’s poison.

Steven gave me a sympathetic smile. “It’s rough,” he said loudly. “Want another?”

I stepped shakily to the side. “Sure!” I yelled.

Anything was better than dancing to Journey.

Four cups of that pink toxic waste later and I was feeling strange. My skin felt hot and oily and I kept reaching up to wipe my forehead on my sleeve. Outside it was freezing cold, but inside Gary’s house, it was so hot that I could barely stay awake.

Steven and I danced, hopping and jumping around, to most of the music. Whenever a slow song came on, Steven would try to pull me close but I’d invariably shy away. It wasn’t just that I didn’t feel like having his dick pressed into my butt, everyone was staring at us. Even the girls who swung by in the arms of other guys from school couldn’t keep from giving my dirty looks.

“Everyone hates me,” I said loudly in Steven’s ear. He winced and pulled away. “Can I have another drink?”

“Sure.” Steven took my hand and led me out of the living room. Thankfully, it was much cooler in the rest of the house. The kitchen was messy – a huge table was covered with mostly-empty tubs of hummus and ranch dressing, while dehydrated carrot slices grew less appealing by the second. I paused and grabbed a handful of sour cream chips, shoving them into my mouth and chewing noisily.

“God, I’m starving,” I said, handing Steven my cup and scooping more chips onto a plastic plate. “Can you get me a drink?”

Steven beamed. “So you’re having fun?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said. “I am.” It wasn’t exactly a lie – although the way my chest felt hot and watery probably wasn’t a good sign. I’d never been drunk before, only tipsy, at Monica’s party. But this was different. I felt like a new Elizabeth, a confident Elizabeth who didn’t let anything bother her.

A rush of people streamed by and I almost fell to the side as one of them bumped into my hip. I grabbed the back of a chair, only barely managing to stay upright.

Steven rushed to my side, handing me a drink. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, much more enthusiastically than necessary. “Yeah!” Tilting my head back, I poured the cup down my throat. I was so used to it by now that the stuff didn’t even burn – it was actually starting to taste kind of good. Wiping my brow again, I burst out laughing.

“What’s funny?” Steven crinkled his brow.

“Nothing!” Suddenly, I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. I couldn’t explain it, but somehow, the events of the past few months no longer mattered. All that mattered was that wild, confident feeling in my chest, like nothing could ever hurt me again.

“Come dance,” Steven said. He tugged me towards the living room and I groaned, dragging my feet.

“It’s too hot in there,” I whined. “Wanna go outside?”

“Seriously?” Steven laughed. “Elizabeth, it’s freezing out there. The last thing I need is you getting sick.”

“Come on,” I whined. “Just for a minute.”

As I tugged Steven down the hall, the wild and happy feeling started to fade. My stomach started to hurt and I swallowed, wiping my hands on my thighs.

“Hold on a sec,” I said, pulling free of Steven’s grip. “I need to stay here a moment.”

Steven brushed my bangs out of my eyes. “Elizabeth? You okay? You look sick,” he added, putting a hand to my forehead. I winced. Suddenly, my head was aching, almost like it was filled with concrete.

“What time is it,” I slurred, stepping forward. My ankle rolled under my weight and I fell to the ground, nearly colliding with the wooden floor. Thankfully Steven grabbed me by the arms and pulled me upright.

“I think you overdid it a little,” Steven said. “Come on, this way.”

My vision turned blurry and shaky as Steven took me down a hall. It wasn’t straight like the hall before, it was twisting and curving and filled with sudden sharp turns. Bumping into the wall, I burst out laughing as I bounced off the white surface and ping-ponged back towards Steven’s arms.

“This way,” Steven repeated. He pulled me into a small, brightly-lit room.

I burst out laughing. “I don’t need to pee,” I said. But as soon as I saw the toilet, my stomach lurched and I dropped to my knees. I barely had time to push the lid up as a hot streaming torrent of vomit gushed from my mouth. Steven pushed my hair from my face, holding it in a gentle knot behind my neck.

I threw up until I was gagging. Tears came to my eyes and by the time I was done, I was sniffling and coughing. Steven reached over with a folded wad of toilet paper and wiped my lips and chin.

He smiled. “Same thing happened to me at a basketball party a couple of years ago,” Steven said. “Only I didn’t make it to the bathroom in time.”

I smiled weakly. “Thanks…” I flushed, sniffling and climbing to my feet on unsteady legs. “I appreciate it.”

Steven shrugged. “I try to be a good boyfriend,” he said. He made eye contact and I had to look away. “Elizabeth, I hope I make you happy.”

I nodded. “You do,” I said softly. Now, more than ever, I added weakly in my head. I didn’t know why, but something about the tenderness with which Steven had taken care of me made me feel better, almost like we were a normal high-school couple.

“Good,” Steven said. He got to his feet, flushed the toilet, and washed his hands. “You ready to go home?”

I nodded. “Please,” I said softly. “I’d really appreciate that.”

Steven and I didn’t talk much in the car, but this time, it felt like a comfortable silence. When he pulled up in front of my house, he parked and kept the engine running.

“Want me to go inside with you?”

I sniffed. “No,” I said. “I think I’m okay. I’m going to take some ibuprofen and lie down.”

Steven nodded. “Good plan,” he said. “I have fun tonight. I love you,” he added, leaning in to kiss me. I turned my head to the side – even though I’d rinsed with mouthwash, I still smelled like vomit – and he got a mouthful of hair.
“Sorry,” I said, pushing the door open and climbing out on unsteady legs. “I’ll see you later, Steven.”

“Bye,” Steven called. I slammed the door shut and hurried up the driveway and into my silent house. For a moment, I almost laughed – it was such a perfect imitation of the time Steven and I had snuck out together before the curfew was lifted.

Thankfully, Mom and Dad weren’t awake. I crept up the stairs and took another shower, then got into pajamas and climbed into bed. Just as I was about to turn out the light, my cell phone started buzzing wildly on my nightstand.

God, what does he want now, I thought, groaning as I pictured Steven eagerly anticipating my answer.

Except it wasn’t Steven’s name on the caller ID.

It was David’s.

I blinked. Was Monica calling? I wanted to believe that, but somehow, I had a feeling that Monica had nothing to do with it. My palm itched as I reached for the phone, holding it in my fingers.

Just seeing David’s name was enough to erase the mildly pleasant thoughts of Steven from my mind. The brief affection that I’d felt for him suddenly vanished and I was left wanting to speak to David, to hear his voice.

To know if Monica’s magic was still working.

But I couldn’t. I had to be a good friend to her – that was what I’d promised.

With a heavy heart, I pressed “ignore,” then turned out my lamp and went to sleep.

Chapter Three

Elizabeth

Things were slowly going back to normal in Jaffrey, but not everything was quite there yet.

After the searches and hunts for Andrea were called off, it was like she’d completely vanished from reality. I went by the D’Amicos’ house twice in the next week, scouring for evidence. I couldn’t believe that somehow, we’d bee powerful enough to make her completely vanish.

That was when her church announced a memorial service.

It wasn’t for Andrea, exactly – at least, her name was never mentioned. Instead, the pastor encouraged the town to come out and “heal together,” presumably from the trauma of losing Andrea.

I wondered what Steven and his family would have to say about it.

Friday night, the day before the service, I was walking home from school when Steven pulled up alongside me. He smiled and I felt something of that old crush coming back. I tried to smile, remembering how kind he’d been at the party earlier in the week. But I couldn’t stop thinking of David, even though I knew it was wrong.

He’s not yours to think about, I said firmly to myself as I climbed in the passenger seat of Steven’s car. He’s Monica’s, and I need to be a friend. I need her to be happy, even if that means using her magic.

“Are you going to that thing at the church?” I licked my lips, wondering if Steven remembered his sister at all.

“I think so, I don’t know,” Steven said. “My parents used to be so into going to church…and now I don’t know, they don’t really care. So I guess.”

“You should go,” I said quickly. “It might be good for you.”

Steven cocked his head to the side and gave me an odd look. “Coming from you, that’s a little weird,” he said. “You never go to church.”

She was your sister, I wanted to scream. I wanted to take Steven by the shoulders and shake him until his eyes rolled back in his head. Don’t you remember? How the hell could you forget your own family member?
“Right,” I said quickly. “But I still think we should go.”

Steven nodded. He gave me a dreamy look. “Something bad happened,” he said slowly. “I just can’t really remember it. But things were hard for a while, weren’t they?”

Guilt hit me like a lightning bolt and I slumped against the seat. Part of me hated Monica for putting me in this position – was I really supposed to lie and pretend like Andrea had never existed?

The other part of me was just confused, and a little sad for Steven. It was hard to think of someone forgetting their own sibling.

It was even harder to know I’d watched my best friend stab said sibling in the chest.

I shuddered.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Something really bad happened. But it’s almost over now.”

Steven reached for my hand and twined his fingers with mine. “I didn’t know it was so important to you,” he said. “But of course we can go, if that’s what you want.”

I nodded stiffly. “Yeah,” I said. “I’d like that.” Because this is my fault, I thought as Steven’s car pulled onto my street. And without me, this wouldn’t have happened.

“So tomorrow, when should I pick you up?”

I sighed. “Right before the service is fine,” I said.

“Want dinner afterwards? There’s a new chicken place, they have duck fat fries.”

“I don’t know.” I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t you think it’s kind of…I don’t know, wrong?”

“What? What about going out with my girlfriend is wrong?”

“Because we’d be coming from a memorial service for--,” I bit my lip. “I mean, memorial services are almost like funerals, right? Like, without the body?”

Steven looked at me with wide eyes. “I had no idea you felt so strongly about this,” he said. “That’s nice of you, Elizabeth. For some reason, I never figured you to be the kind of girl who cared so much about her community.”

It was a struggle not to roll my eyes. “It’s a recent development,” I said quietly. “I guess I surprise myself, too.”

Steven squeezed my hand again. I could barely look him in the eye without wanting to puke.

“Okay,” Steven said. He smiled. “I’ll pick you up at eleven tomorrow, okay?”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

Steven slowed to a stop in front of my parents’ house and I climbed out of the car, leaning back in to kiss him on the cheek. I couldn’t stop the guilt from wracking my body as I turned away and started up the drive. If I’d known things were going to turn out like this, I wondered if I’d ever have joined the coven in the first place.

I felt guilty for everything. I felt guilty for not liking Steven as much as I should. I felt guilty for thinking of David, for dreaming about David, for wondering if Monica would keep him locked in a spell forever.

But mostly, I felt guilty about Andrea. It wasn’t fair that she’d just vanished, as if she’d never walked upon this earth at all. And even if she did have an evil soul, the soul of an ancient witch, she didn’t deserve to not have a legacy.

Thunder cracked overhead and I shuddered as I pushed my way into the foyer. Mom was in the kitchen and I darted up the stairs before she could ensnare me. My heart was thudding, and while I didn’t want to be alone, I couldn’t bear the idea of talking to anyone other than Monica.

Once I was locked safely in my room, I sat on my bed and closed my eyes, leaning into the pillows and pulling a blanket over my hips. Oh, Monica, I thought as I shuddered with guilt. Why couldn’t you have just cursed me, instead?

---

In the morning, I waited for Steven outside on the porch. It was a chill spring morning, but the fresh air felt good. No one else from my house was going to the memorial – I couldn’t even think about it without mentally placing Andrea’s name before ‘memorial.’

When I saw Steven’s car, I leapt off the porch and ran over before he could stop. When he saw me, he smiled.

I felt sick.

“Hey,” Steven said. “How are you?”

I shrugged. “Not great,” I admitted. “But maybe I’ll feel better after this.”

Steven nodded. He reached over and squeezed my knee. “I’m sure you will.”

The church was packed. By the time Steven and I got there, we could only find seats towards the back. I was relieved, but also saddened – did this mean that everyone else remembered Andrea, too? Or did everyone just have the same lingering sense of tragedy, like Steven?

“Wow,” Steven whispered as we pushed our way through the crowd gathered in the narthex. “There are so many people here.”

“I know,” I replied nervously.

We sat at the end of a pew and I pulled my sweater close around my body. Despite the mass of bodies, it was freezing cold inside the church. The last time I was here, Andrea called Monica a witch in front of the whole town, I thought as I closed my hands and twisted my hands in my lap. How can everyone have forgotten?

The pastor – it was the same one who had led Andrea’s “prayer meeting” – walked to the pulpit. He was wearing long black robes with a purple cloth draped over his shoulders. He looked deeply touched.

Suddenly, a kernel of panic formed in my mind. What if he mentions Andrea by name, what if I somehow have to explain everything to Steven?

I tried to tell myself that he wouldn’t believe me – that it would sound too far-fetched – but I couldn’t help worrying.

“Dear friends,” the pastor said, leaning into the microphone. All of the ambient sounds and chatter around me died. “It is with a heavy heart that I address you all.”

A ripple of murmurs soared through the crowd and I shrank down, leaning against the bench.

“The…tragedy that struck Jaffrey has been in my heart and mind ever since, and I’m sure it’s been weighing heavily on you, as well,” the pastor continued. “At this time, I’d like to invite you all to speak, if you feel the need to share.”

I bit my lip. The pastor stepped back, holding the microphone in his hand and gesturing towards the crowd.
“Please, don’t feel that it needs to be long,” the pastor said. “But share your feeling, share your emotions with the Holy Father and the congregation, so that we may begin to heal.”

For a few minutes, the church was silent. Then a slow line of people began to form in the aisle, their heads bowed.
I recognized one of Monica’s neighbors – the one with the slain cattle – at the front of the line and I shivered. This was a bad idea, I thought, glancing around. Now it’s all Steven’s going to be able to talk about for the rest of the day.

“Hello,” the neighbor said, rasping into the microphone. “I don’t know how many of y’all recognize me…I’m Bernard Petterson, on the edge of town.”

A small smattering of applause went through the crowd.

Bernard continued: “I just wanted to say how sorry I am, I feel real bad for everyone. This hasn’t been a good year.” He paused, dramatically looking towards the ceiling of the church. “I just pray that the lord Jesus will come down and help us all.”

The pastor patted Bernard on the back and handed the microphone off. This time, I only vaguely recognized the woman holding it: she was one of the special education teachers at school, but I’d never spoken to her before. Her face was streaked with tears.

“When I think of the paranoia that gripped our town, it just about breaks my heart,” she said sweetly into the microphone. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, to heal, but I think if we stay strong, we can do it together. Don’t you all agree?”

Most people nodded and murmured agreement under their breaths.

It went on like that, for over two hours. By the time the line of people was growing shorter, my butt was numb from sitting on the wooden pew. I’d barely sneaked a glance at Steven the whole time, but now I searched his face for any trace of emotion or sadness.

He mostly just looked stoic and bored, the way I’d seen him in school before we’d ever talked.

“Let’s get out of here,” I whispered.

Steven cocked his head to the side. “You want to leave? It’s not over yet,” he added. “I thought you felt like you had to stay?”

I licked my lips. I’d expected to be wracked with guilt and grief, but if anything, I just felt more detached than ever. Somehow the service had failed to touch me – it felt fake, phony, like something that was more for the survivors than Andrea. I knew I should have been relieved that no one mentioned her by name, but surprisingly, that just made me feel worse.

Steven and I ducked out of the church, into the early afternoon sunshine. The day had warmed up and I took my sweater off, folding it in my arms and keeping my face turned to the ground.

“So, you want to get something to eat?”

I shook my head. “I was thinking we could go for a walk in the woods, just a short one,” I said. “You okay with that?”

Steven gave me an odd look, but nodded after a second. “I just want you to be happy,” he said. “Elizabeth, that’s really the only thing I care about.”

I bit my lip. “I know,” I said softly. “Thanks.”

Steven drove to the edge of town, near where the Boers’ lived. He parked at the end of the road and we climbed out of the car, walking towards the woods in silence.

“So,” I said cautiously. “How are you feeling?”

Steven shrugged. “Fine,” he said. He yawned. “That was long.”

My heart sank. “I take it you didn’t really get anything out of that,” I said softly, crunching over dead leaves and twigs. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, you wanted to go,” Steven said. He reached for my hand and squeezed. “Everything’s fine, Liz.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t call me Liz,” I said. “I hate it.”

“She hates Liz,” Steven said, tapping the side of his forehead and laughing. “I think I can remember that.”

I frowned. Something about his jokey, relaxed attitude was putting me on edge. I couldn’t believe that nothing in the memorial service had triggered him – it was too normal, too wrong.

We walked on. I pushed through the trees until I was almost jogging. Steven had to walk faster to keep up and more than once he called out and asked me to stop. But I knew I had to keep going until I was as close to the coven as possible – as close to Andrea’s fragmented spirit as it was possible to get. Of course, with Steven by my side, I’d never be able to find Henrik and Ligeia.

But that didn’t mean I couldn’t try to get close.

“Elizabeth, where are we going,” Steven called. “I’m hungry.”

I set my lips in a thin line. “We can get something to eat after this,” I said. “Just a little bit longer. It’s not far.”
Shoving all thoughts of Steven out of my mind, I tried to channel the energy of the coven. Please, let me get close, I thought as I walked on. Please, just a little more.

When I felt the air begin to warm, I stopped. Turning my face up to the warming rays of the sun, I closed my eyes.

“Here,” I said. “Right here.”

Steven skidded to a stop, sending gravel and dirt flying. “Okay,” he said. He looked at me and shrugged. “What are we doing?”

Swallowing hard, I dropped to my knees. “We’re praying,” I said. “We’re praying to heal our town.”

Steven narrowed his eyes. “Elizabeth…if you feel like this, why didn’t you just say something back at the church?”

“Because that was too fake,” I said. I licked my lips. “She wouldn’t have heard us.”

“She?” Steven frowned. “Who are you talking about?”

“No one,” I lied. “Pray with me, okay?”

Steven gave me a curious look but dropped to his knees and put his hands together. “I feel like I’m back at church,” he muttered under his breath.

I ignored him. Closing my eyes, I pictured Andrea’s childish, round face. I remembered all of the times she came onto Steven in front of me, teasing me. I remembered her vindictive anger towards Monica, the way she openly hated her so much.

And then I thought about before – back when we were kids. How Andrea was always the one who cried if she fell off her bike, or how she always complained that she was cold during a snow day. I tried to remember the innocent stuff – like the time she’d earnestly asked me if the Loch Ness Monster was real after my parents had taken me on a vacation to Scotland.

Maybe it is real, Andrea, I thought with a sigh. Who knows?

When the air around me was quiet and still, I licked my lips and began.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, putting my hand down on the ground and feeling the chill, damp dirt beneath the leaves. “I’m so sorry that things turned out like this, that you had to experience such fright and pain.”

“Elizabeth, who are you talking to?”

“Shh,” I said. “I just want you to know that I loved you and cared about you. You were a good friend, and you were loyal. Just know that I’m sorry, and this wasn’t personal. It was from the past, from a long time ago, and I did what I had to do.”

I sighed, trying to picture how Andrea would accept my apology. And I was sure she’d accept it, too – after all, she was a Christian. Even if she didn’t really forgive me, she wouldn’t make me feel bad.

Tears welled up in my eyes and I swallowed a lump in my throat.

“Okay,” I said, touching the ground one more time. “Thanks for listening.”

Getting to my feet, I brushed the dirt from my knees. I’d worn a dress to church, but my tights were muddy and stained from kneeling in the grass.

Steven got to his feet and gave me an odd look. “Elizabeth, are you feeling okay?”

I nodded sadly. “Yeah,” I said quietly. “I’ll be fine. So you want something to eat?”

Half an hour later, Steven and I were seated across from each other in the diner. He hadn’t quit giving me strange looks since leaving the woods, but I genuinely was starting to feel a little better. Hopeless, endless guilt still welled inside of me like a hidden spring but I knew that eventually, I’d learn to shoulder it and begin to move on. Being in the woods had calmed me – it was just like Ligeia had said, about the magic of nature.

When the waitress stopped by the table, Steven ordered bacon cheeseburgers for both of us, with extra onion rings and fries. I hadn’t felt hungry before, instead I’d been sick and nauseous. But as soon as there was a huge plate of steaming food in front of me, I ate until I had to reach under my skirt and pull the waistband of my tights over my protruding belly.

“Feeling better?” Steven took an onion ring from my plate and wiped it in ketchup before eating it whole. “I could still have dessert,” he added.

“God, I feel like I’m going to explode,” I said. And then there it was – the guilt, rushing back. How the heck did I just eat a huge meal, I thought. I’m supposed to be in mourning! I killed someone…and her own brother doesn’t even remember her.

“So not dessert?”

I shook my head. The burger had tasted good, but my nausea was starting to come back with a vengeance.

“Can you just take me home?”

Steven paid – he insisted – and then drove me home, his hand on my knee the whole time. It was crazy – I hadn’t felt desire, or anything like it, since before the first time we’d had sex.

Or with David, I remembered, another pang of guilt searing my heart. You remember that? How that felt?

“I’m going to need some time,” I said, gently pushing Steven’s hand away. He was leaning over me with his lips puckered, ready for a kiss. “I’m sorry.”

Steven nodded. “I get that you’re going through a lot,” he said. He sighed, raking a hand through his messy blonde hair. “But I need you, Elizabeth. I need to know that you need me too.”

I nodded slowly. “I know,” I said. I forced a smile. “Thanks for taking me, and for the walk, and for lunch,” I said. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

Steven’s smile faded. “Okay,” he said. “Later, Elizabeth.”

With a heavy heart, I climbed out of the car and walked inside.

Mom and Dad left me alone the rest of the day. I thought about calling Monica, but instead climbed into bed with a book from English class, A Separate Peace. But I found that losing myself in the story of two prep-school boys with problems nothing remotely like my own proved impossible. I set the book down, closed my eyes, and fell asleep.

“The spirit of Prudence has not been demolished,” Ligeia said, her blue eyes glittering in the semi-dark.

“Why haven’t we been able to subdue her? I do not understand,” Henrik said slowly. “We did everything according to plan.”

Ligeia took a deep breath, sighing. “I do not know,” she said. “It vexes me. And it makes me so concerned for the future – if the spirit of Prudence returns in yet another lifetime. We may not be strong enough to ensure her complete removal.”

“But if she returns…”

“That will mean death for us,” Ligeia said sadly. She twined her knotted fingers in her long white hair. “That will be the end. She will win, Henrik. And we will be no more.”

Gasping and choking, I bolted awake, sitting straight up at once. My heart was pounding – what did it mean? Had that been a vision? Or merely a dream, a nightmare built on grief and guilt?

My fingers trembled as I reached for my phone. Dialing Monica, I pressed it close to my sweaty ear.

“Elizabeth?” Monica yawned. “What’s wrong?”

“I had a dream,” I said quickly. “A dream about Ligeia and Henrik.”

Monica was silent for a long time after I told her.

“Well?” I asked. “What does it mean?”

I heard a voice in the background and frowned.

“Monica? You there?”
“David, hold on,” Monica said, muffling the mouthpiece. “Give me a second.”

My heart sank.

“Sorry, Elizabeth,” Monica said. “I’m with David, he just wanted to know what was going on.”

I sighed. “What do you think? I woke up sweating,” I said. “What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know, Elizabeth,” Monica said. “I…” She trailed off.

“What?” I bit my lip. “Don’t you think this is a big deal? I mean, don’t you think we have to do something?”

“I have to do something,” Monica said. “You have to stay out of it.” She paused and I could tell she was thinking hard. “Look, something’s…not right with them right now, okay? I can’t really say anything else.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What does that even mean? Like, did they lie about something?”

“Not exactly,” Monica said. She sighed loudly into the phone and I pulled it away from my ear for a second.

“Then what?”

“I don’t know, Elizabeth, I told you – I need some time to figure this out on my own.”

“That’s not fair!” I whined. “I don’t get it – look, I joined the coven in the first place, just so I could help you! You can’t keep shutting me out, not if you want to come on top. This is a lot, Monica, you can’t handle it on your own.”

“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” Monica said darkly. Something about her words chilled me to the bone. “There’s a lot you don’t understand, and I’m still trying to figure it out myself.”

I groaned in exasperation. “But if you don’t tell me, then maybe you won’t figure it out at all! Have you ever thought about the fact that I’m trying to help you?” I asked sarcastically. “You’re my best friend, and we’re in this together! I want to make sure that nothing bad happens here!”

“Something bad has already happened,” Monica said. “Look, I’m sorry – if it were anything else, anything in the world, you know I’d tell you. But I can’t – I don’t even know the words to use, okay? You’re going to have to trust me.”

I flopped against my pillows, shaking my head. “I hate this,” I said quietly. “I hate how this is driving us apart. Next thing I know, you’re going to disappear and then you won’t come back and I’ll never know!”

Monica was silent for a long time before she replied.

“I know,” she said. “I know that’s how you feel, but I promise I won’t abandon you, Elizabeth. I swear it, okay?”

I sighed. “Fine,” I muttered angrily. “I guess this doesn’t mean anything to you, after all.”

I hung up before Monica could reply, but when I lay back down in bed, I found that I was suddenly wide awake.

Chapter Four

Monica

“Hello, Elizabeth?”

David frowned. “What did she say?”

“She hung up on me,” I said slowly. I blinked. “I can’t believe she’d do that.”

David shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, you know how moody she is.”

“Yeah, but I know she’s angry with me,” I said. And she has good reason to be, too.

David’s dark eyes turned soft and he pulled me against his lean chest. “I don’t know how anyone could ever be angry with you,” he said.

I closed my eyes and tried to relax. You don’t know the half of it, I thought grimly.

“Monica?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

I sagged against David’s body. “I love you, too,” I said quietly.

The next morning, I got up early and made breakfast for everyone – David, Jamie, and Brian. When my parents came downstairs, they gave me a surprised look.

“This is nice,” Jamie said. She narrowed her eyes. “Is there coffee?”

“Yup, already on the table.”

Jamie smiled. “What’s the occasion? I can’t remember the last time you’ve cooked for me,” she said. “Did you get a bad grade?”

I forced a laugh. Oh, nothing, Mom, I thought sarcastically. Just about to go into the woods and possibly never come home, but you never know.

“No reason,” I said finally. “I just wanted to do something nice.”

“Well, this is great,” Jamie said. “I know your father’s going to be happy, too. Did David stay?”

“Yeah. He’s in the shower. He’ll be down in a few.”

“I’m so glad you met a nice boy, Monica,” Jamie said. She rolled her eyes. “When I was in high school, all the guys were such creeps.”

“Yeah, that’s why you started dating your college history professor,” I cracked dryly.

Jamie shrugged. “And then we got married and had you, what difference does it make?”

Something about the way Jamie said that made me sad. I could tell she was thinking of the future – where I was older, maybe married with grandchildren. I could almost picture her sitting by the fire and telling my own kids how she and Brian had met.

I shuddered.

“Honey? You okay?”

I nodded and grabbed a piece of bacon from the table, barely tasting it as I wolfed it down.

“Yeah,” I lied. “I’m fine.”

After breakfast, I walked with David out to his car. I felt profoundly sad in a way that I’d never really thought myself capable of. All of this, I thought as I looked at him. For nothing.

“You’re quiet this morning,” David said as he pulled me into a tight hug. “Everything okay?”

I shrugged. “Yeah,” I said. “I don’t know. I guess I’m worried about Elizabeth,” I lied. “She seemed so upset with me last night. I should probably talk to her.”

“Girls are so moody,” David said, teasing me. He leaned down and kissed me. I closed my eyes and pressed my lips to his, trying to get lost in the moment. But I couldn’t relax around David like I could before.

Since I’d cast a spell on him, everything had changed. The things about David I’d loved – his sullen wit, the way he said whatever came into his head – had all changed. Now, he was a shell of a person, someone who followed me around like a puppy and bent to my every whim.

This is why Elizabeth doesn’t want Steven anymore, I realized as I broke the kiss and pulled away. She knows it’s not real.

“Hey,” David said. “I wasn’t done yet.”

“I’m not feeling well,” I said. “I’m sorry – I think I’m just going go to lie down or something. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“I know,” David teased. He pulled up his shirt, showing me a row of faint blue bruises on his pale white chest. “You were tossing and turning all night.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I really am sorry, David.” Sudden tears sprang to my eyes and I blinked them away, wiping at my lids with both hands.

“Hey,” David said slowly. He put his hands on my shoulders and tried to pull me close. “What’s all this, huh? What’s the matter?” He frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry before.”

“Allergies,” I lied, wiping my nose on my sleeve. “You’ll be okay for the drive home?”

David nodded. “Yeah. When can I see you again? You think you could come up and stay with me for a while?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Sorry.”

“Too much school work?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “I really am sorry.”

David gave me a weird smile. “Stop apologizing,” he said. “Come on, Monica. This isn’t like you.”

“I know,” I said. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

David nodded. He pulled me into one last hug, squeezing me tightly. When he let go, I stood outside and watched him pull away until I couldn’t see his car anymore. With a heavy heart, I turned and walked into the woods.

I found the coven in almost no time. Part of me wondered if Ligeia and Henrik had been expecting me. I wondered why they’d sent Elizabeth that dream, and not me – was it because they’d wanted her to contact me?

Or was this all just part of a huge plan that I was only just starting to discover?

“Hello, child,” Ligeia said pleasantly. She was sitting in the middle of the clearing, dried herbs scattered around her. There was a pleasant smell in the air – lavender and sage – and I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

“I think you know why I’m here,” I said.

“Yes. Because of Prudence,” Ligeia said. “Well, I have good news – Henrik and I have already begun the process of splitting her soul. She will no longer torment anyone, here or on earth.”

“And…what exactly does that entail?”

Henrik stepped out from behind the trees, startling me.

“Unpleasant things,” he said. “Things that cause damage to one’s own soul.”

“Don’t do this,” I said. “Come on – you know she doesn’t pose a threat. She’s fine, she’s right here.”

“Yes, and I’d rather her not be,” Ligeia said unpleasantly. “What are you doing here? Have you come to break your vows?”

“Why do you need her soul?”

Henrik laughed. “Because as soon as she is a part of us, we will share her power.” His eyes gleamed and I shuddered. I’d never been able to think of Henrik as evil, he’d always seemed kind of like an ornery old grandfather. But now that I was here, now that I could see what Henrik and Ligeia were really plotting, I felt like The Fool, striding off the edge of a cliff, just like in the tarot.

“And we will begin a new reign,” Ligeia said. She stood and walked over to me, putting her hands on my face. I shrieked as my mind was filled with horrific visions – whole towns aflame, people screaming and groaning in pain.

“Why?” Shoving Ligeia’s hands away, I stepped back. “Why? Why do you want to cause such evil, such destruction?”

Henrik gave me a hardened glare. “I have already told you,” he said. “These people, these people whom you claim to know and value – these are the same people who persecuted us, who made our lives hell.” His lips widened into a smile that chilled me to the marrow. “And now it is our turn. Now we will make them suffer, we will make them pay.”

“But things are different now,” I protested. “People have a…much more liberal view of witches! It’s not considered a crime!”

“You saw what havoc Prudence brought to your town,” Ligeia thundered. “I have no reason to believe you, child. I see no reason to think for a second that our kind would be accepted.”

“Maybe not in Jaffrey,” I shot back. “But in bigger cities, like Boston? I know you could find a whole new tribe of admirers! And isn’t that what you want, after all? Don’t you just need approval?”

“It is too late,” Ligeia said in a sing-song voice. “The process has already begun!”

“Now, child, best for you to go home,” Henrik said. He smiled unpleasantly. “Prepare yourself, prepare Elizabeth. And if you cooperate, we will save you both.”

“I’ll tell her,” I threatened. “I’ll go home and tell her right now.”

Ligeia snorted. “Even if you did, do you really think you’d be able to defeat someone as powerful as I?” She burst into laughter.

“I know she’s not dead,” I said hotly. “I can feel her spirit, she’s here!”

Closing my eyes, I tried to sense Andrea. All I could catch was fear, panic, and a wounded heart beating slowly.

I pulled away from Ligeia and broke into a run. My heart was pounding as I darted and dashed through the coven, avoiding the huts and other witches. As I ran, they looked up at me with surprise. I pitied them – did they know? Did they care?

Or, like Henrik and Ligeia, were they all too eager for a world ready to bow to them and kiss their feet?

“Andrea!” I shrieked loudly. “Andrea, where are you?”

There was no answer. I stumbled and nearly tripped over a tree stump, but kept myself upright.

“Andrea!” I screamed. “Where are you? I want to help you,” I added, screaming until my throat ached.

As I ran towards the edge of the woods, the sound her heartbeat grew louder in my ears.

“I know you’re still here,” I called. “Let me help you!”

They locked you away, I thought angrily as I pushed into the woods and leapt over a fallen tree. They thought I wouldn’t be able to find you, Andrea. But look, here I am. And we’ll figure out something together.

I ran into a clearing. The grass was freshly cut and manicured and the smell of herbs hung heavy in the air. Sage and thyme mixed with an unpleasantly human smell – soil, and sweat, and blood.

When I saw her, I shrieked in fear. My feet felt rooted to the spot and I covered my mouth with both hands, forcing myself to stop screaming.

Andrea was lashed to a tree, her head sagging on her neck. She’d been stripped of her clothes and dressed in a robe that had once been pure white. But now it was covered with stains – blood and excrement and black smudges over her chest. Her hair was a tangled dirty mess of knots, hanging in her face. Her heartbeat was so weak that I could barely feel it, even standing right in front of her. Worst of all, her bare arms faded into a deep black by her wrists. Her fingers looked shriveled and dead, like they life had been sucked from them.

“It’s okay,” I said softly, stepping forward. “It’s all right, I’m here.”

Andrea made a sound – a guttural low keening that set my hair on end. I stepped closer and closer, examining her bonds. She was lashed at the ankles, knees, hips, and chest with leather straps that were all woven together. Whoever had bound her had meant for her to stay on the tree for a long time.

Possibly until she was dead.

“I see you’ve found her.”

I whirled around at the sound of Ligeia’s voice.

Ligeia, Henrik, and four other witches from the coven were advancing on me. Ligeia held an athame, pointed right at my chest.

“Do not even try,” Ligeia warned in a deep, cracked voice. Her blue eyes were glowing and she looked alive, young – more powerful than I ever could have imagined.

“Welcome to your new home, child,” Henrik said. He stepped forward and snapped his fingers. A red spark leapt from his hands. I watched in horror as the spark unfolded into a long, gleaming ribbon of light. I cried out as it sailed towards me, wrapping around my arms and legs until I fell helpless to the ground.

“You shall never return to your world,” Ligeia said. She smiled, stepping closer and kneeling by my side. She pressed the tip of the athame to my chest. “You will stay here, protecting us.” She smiled. “Do you understand?”

When I tried to open my lips, I found that I couldn’t speak.

Ligeia pulled a flask from the folds of her robes and pushed my lips open. Dribbling liquid into my mouth, she moved her hand over my throat until I felt myself swallow.

“You will remain alive,” Ligeia said. “Although I’m sorry to say your life will be rather…diminished. Guarding a soul is hard work, after all.”

They’ve won, I realized bitterly. They’ve finally taken me.

Chapter Five

Elizabeth

I tried calling Monica every day for a week.

But it was no use.

She was gone.

And this time, I had a feeling that it was for good.

Weeks passed and the chill spring turned into a real spring, a lush green spring that reminded me of the coven. Not that I ever thought about anything else. Ever since Monica had gone, she and the others were all I thought about.

The day I turned sixteen, there was a memorial service held for Monica. It wasn’t at the church – Jamie and Brian wouldn’t have liked that very much – but at a Quaker meeting home on the outskirts. I went with my family, expecting a low turnout. But I was shocked – as soon as I stepped inside, I saw that the place was packed.

“Wow,” I muttered.

“What’s that, honey?” Mom touched me on the shoulder. “Did you say something?”

“Nothing,” I said softly. “It’s just…there are more people here than for the town thing, at church.”

“Oh,” Mom said.

Steven spotted me and waved, pushing through a huge crowd of other kids. He pulled me into a tight hug and I stepped back, blushing hotly. My mom was giving us a curious look.

“All of my friends came,” Steven said. He raked a hand through his hair and sighed. “They’re all really upset, you know. Monica was a really cool girl.”

I narrowed my eyes and peered over Steven’s shoulder. He was right – a huge group of the most popular kids in town were all seated up front. Some of the girls were weeping.

I frowned.

“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy that everyone came,” Steven said. “I mean, isn’t that what Monica would’ve wanted?”

No, I thought. She’d rather come back from the dead and call all of these people losers, because they never gave a fuck about her when she was alive.

“I guess,” I said lamely. “I don’t really know.”

“Come sit with us,” Steven said. “I’m sure everyone will be glad to see you.”

I frowned. Steven took my hand and squeezed.

“I know this must be hard,” Steven said. “You guys were best friends.”

“Do…do you remember anything like this happening before?” I asked tentatively. “Like, do you ever remember Monica going away before now?”

Steven shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess not,” he said. “Why? What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” I said darkly. “Let’s go sit down.”

Steven led me through the room – it was circular, with lots of wooden chairs all turned to face a large picture of Monica. Jamie and Brian were nowhere to be seen, although it was so crowded that it was hard for me to really make anyone out. Everyone was dressed in black and most people looked devastated – the same way they’d looked when Andrea had vanished.

I shuddered. This is so fucked up, I thought, shaking my head. Death does strange things to people. But she can’t really be dead, can she?

When Steven and I reached his group of friends, we sat down. Immediately, Trisha Charles, one of the most popular girls in school, came over. Her face was streaked with tears and she couldn’t stop sniffling.

“Oh my god, Elizabeth, I’m so sorry,” Trisha said. She flung her arms around my neck and pulled me into a close, intimate hug.

I awkwardly patted her on the back. “Thanks,” I said softly. “I am, too.”

“Monica was so cool,” Trisha said. She pulled back, sniffling and sobbing. Rubbing her red nose with a tissue, she shook her head sadly. “She was like, really smart.”

“She was,” I said. “Were you…friends with her?”

“No,” Trisha said. She blew her nose. “But like, I knew her, you know? I mean everyone knew her. This is a small town, we’re all so connected.”

It was hard not to roll my eyes.

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess you’re right.”

The service was short. A non-denominational pastor stood up and made a short speech, talking about Monica’s life and everything she’d liked. It felt so strange – everyone else around me was sobbing so hard they sounded like they were on the verge of vomiting. But I couldn’t summon a single tear, no matter how sad and guilty and alone I felt.

Steven squeezed my hand. “You okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I whispered back. “I’m fine.”

The pastor cleared his throat. “At this time, I’d like to invite friends of Monica to speak, if they so wish,” he said. “We have time for a few speakers.”

All of the popular girls, including Trisha, leapt up and formed a line behind the pastor.

I narrowed my eyes.

“They didn’t even know her,” I muttered under my breath. “I bet they never even talked!”

Steven turned to me with a frown. “Hey, be nice,” he said. “They’re sad, too – it’s hard when a classmate dies.”

“Yeah, but they weren’t friends,” I said. “What are they going to say about her? That they always saw her in the halls?”

Steven shrugged. “I don’t know, Elizabeth,” he said. “Just calm down. You weren’t the only person who cared about her.”

I glared. Although I didn’t appreciate what he’d said, at least it was better than the constant fawning and praise and desperate need for my attention.

Trisha cleared her throat into the microphone and wiped at her eyes. “I’d just like to say a few things about Monica,” she said. She sniffled and there was a smatter of applause.

I rolled my eyes.

“Monica was such a great girl,” Trisha said. “She was always, like, so smart. I’m going to miss her so much, I mean, nothing is ever going to be the same. My life is like, totally different now.”

“This is awful,” I murmured to Steven. “She knew nothing about her!”

“She was smart,” Steven said. He shrugged and narrowed his eyes at me. “You should be more open-minded, Elizabeth. You don’t have the sole lock on grieving for her.”

His words pushed me over the edge. I pulled my hand back, took a deep breath, and stood up, standing at the end of the line of popular girls.

It was a long wait. It seemed like every former homecoming queen and prom queen and runner-up was standing in front of me, somehow making Monica’s death all about them.

When it was my turn, the people watching looked tired.

“I won’t be long,” I said, clearing my throat and sniffling. “I just wanted to say that Monica was more than a friend to me, she was like a sister. I always admired her – she did whatever she wanted, and she never let anyone stop her.” Guilt plagued me and I closed my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. “I wasn’t always the best friend to her, but it didn’t matter. She did…she did some great things, and my life would be totally different today if it wasn’t for her.”

I saw Jamie and Brian, standing in the back, looking at me sadly. Between that and the unfortunate truth of what I’d just said, the tears finally came. I blinked them away and handed off the microphone as quickly as I could.

Back in my chair, Steven put his arm around me and held me close.

The service wasn’t much longer than that. The pastor did a blessing – he didn’t even say ‘heaven,’ he said ‘the afterlife’ – and invited us all to a reception at Jamie and Brian’s home. Then it was over.

Steven and I stood up together.

“Do you want to go?”

“I should say something to her parents,” I said softly. “I don’t really want to stay, though. Are you coming?”

Steven nodded. My heart sank – I wouldn’t have admitted it, but I’d been secretly hoping that Steven wouldn’t want to go. I knew that if he went, all of the popular kids would, too…and then I’d be sitting there, hating all of them, for practically no reason at all.

I kept my head down as we walked out of the meeting house and into the bright sunshine. It was one of the first truly hot days we’d had. I’m sixteen, I thought sadly as I followed Steven to his car. And if Monica were still here, she’d have turned sixteen the week before. And she’d be teasing me about having her driver’s license, while I only have a permit.

“Elizabeth?”

At the sound of my name, my head snapped up. I turned around and saw David standing there, clad in all-black like always.

“Hey,” I said softly. “Steven, go ahead, I’ll catch up with you in a second.”

Steven narrowed his eyes. “I’ll stay with you,” he said.

“No,” I said quickly. “It’s fine, just give me a minute. I’ll be right there. It’s okay,” I added. “It’s Monica’s boyfriend. I just…want to say something to him.”

Steven frowned but reluctantly turned on his heel and kept walking towards the parking lot.

David looked supremely uncomfortable. He shielded his eyes from the sun, then stepped into the shade of a tree.
“I didn’t see you in there,” I said, gesturing to the building. “Were you in the back?”

David shook his head. “No. I couldn’t bear the thought of being surrounded by those idiots who didn’t know her.”

Just being next to him was making my heart pound faster.

“Are you going to her parents’ place?”

“No,” David said. “I just came to say goodbye, Elizabeth.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Where are you going?”

David shrugged. “I don’t know yet,” he said. “But I have to get out of here for a while. I don’t…” He trailed off. “It doesn’t matter,” he added. “I just thought I should say bye.”

“Oh.” Everything in me wanted to throw my arms around David and pull him close, kiss him deeply, beg him not to leave…or to take me with him.

“Yeah,” David said. He held out his hand. After a few seconds, I pressed my palm against his. David lifted my hand to his mouth and gently kissed my fingers. A thrill shot through my body.

“Bye, Elizabeth,” David said quietly. “Good luck.”

When I realized he wasn’t going to say anything else, or suddenly confess desperate love for me, my heart sank.

“Bye,” I choked out. The word felt strangely inadequate. David tore his eyes from mine and walked away. I watched him until he disappeared, hoping he’d look back at me.

But he never did.

“Hey, Elizabeth, what was that?” Steven tapped me on the shoulder and frowned. “That guy seems like such a creep.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said bitterly. “He’s leaving, and he’s not coming back.”

Steven put an arm around me and squeezed me. I had the sudden urge to put my hands on his chest and push him away, as hard as I could.

“Come on,” Steven said. “We should get going.” He took my hand and started leading me to his car.

What else could I do? I had no choice.

Chapter Six

Elizabeth – Three Years Later

I stayed numb for a long time. For weeks, for months, even for years. I felt like a zombie, barely in control of myself, barely able to make even the most basic of decisions. By some miracle, I finished my sophomore year in one piece – looking back, I’m pretty sure that the school took pity on me because of Monica.

I looked for the coven almost every day. I spent countless hours in the woods, searching for Henrik, Ligeia, Monica, or any trace of the other witches. But despite all of my heartache and sadness, I never found it again. I never found anything even resembling the clearing.

Sometimes, I wondered if everything had been a weird dream.

Steven and I stayed together. He graduated from high school and then went to college in Vermont, where David had been planning to go. That was my only consolation – David wasn’t there now, no one had heard from him in years – but sometimes when I went to visit Steven, I’d look at the buildings and wonder what David thought when he saw the same places.

When I graduated, I joined Steven there. My mom was thrilled – every time I called home, she’d make jokes about wedding bells. Even after leaving Jaffrey, I still felt the fog of the past clinging to me with each and every passing second of time.

But little did I know, things were about to change.

“I just don’t see why you have to go for a whole semester,” Steven said. He narrowed his eyes and pulled the glossy brochure from my hands. “Or why you couldn’t have done it last year, when I was still eligible?”

“Because the U doesn’t let freshmen study abroad,” I said crossly. “And you know I’ve always wanted to do this. I’ve talked about it for years, even back in high school.”

“Well, what if we just took a trip together? Like a vacation, we could go for a couple of weeks over the January term?”

“Steven, that’s a totally different thing,” I said, shaking my head. “I mean, yeah, that would be great. And you can come visit! But I really, really want this. Please don’t make me choose,” I added.

“I just want to know that you’re committed to me,” Steven said. His eyes lit up. “We could get married! They probably have housing for married students.”

My heart sank. “Steven, I’m only nineteen,” I said softly. “I…I’m not really ready for that big of a step yet.” I reached for his hand and squeezed it. “This is just a little space. Lots of people do it. Kurt and Brittany did it last year,” I added. “And he’s your best friend! And they’re still fine!”

“You’re my best friend,” Steven said stubbornly. “And they took a ‘break’ while she was in France, and I know for a fact that they both slept with other people.”

“Well, I don’t really see how that’s bad,” I said slowly. “They’re fine now.”

Steven looked aghast. “Elizabeth, how can you say something like that? You’re mine,” he growled. “And I don’t want you going off like that without me!”

“We can talk every day,” I said, shaking my head in exasperation. Standing up from the bed, I walked over to the window. “I promise, and we can text all the time.”

Steven sighed. “I just don’t like it,” he said stubbornly. “And I don’t understand why you have this sudden need for space,” he added in a derisive voice. “Is this some bullshit about finding yourself? Do you just want to go so you can sleep with every guy in sight and get drunk every night?”

“Ouch,” I said. “God, is that really what you think of me?”

Steven glared. “I don’t know what to think,” he said sourly. “It’s like, you’re this whole new person just because you want to go to England for a year.”

“For a semester,” I corrected. “That’s less than six months! We’ve been together four years, Steven! That’s nothing!”

Steven crossed his arms over his chest and stuck out his lower lip. I rolled my eyes – sitting there on my narrow dorm bed, he looked like a sullen child.

“Don’t do this,” I said. “Come on, it’s not a good look. You know I don’t want anyone else, Steven. I just want you, okay? But I want to travel, too – and this is a really good opportunity. I already got a scholarship, and my parents hardly have to pay for anything.”

"I think you're just using it as an excuse," Steven said angrily. He stood up and began pacing back and forth, stomping like an angry kid.

“I’m not!” I protested. “You’re not even listening to me. I mean, come on – didn’t you think about how cool it would be to study abroad? Meet people from other parts of the world? Get to explore an old city?”

“I never wanted to be away from you,” Steven said hotly. He crossed the room in one giant stride and took my hands, pulling me close. “I always wanted to be with you, Elizabeth.”

My shoulders sagged. “Steven…please don’t make me do this,” I whispered. “Please don’t make me hate you.”

“How could I do that,” Steven said tenderly, leaning down and kissing my forehead. I resisted the urge to push him away. “I love you, Elizabeth.”

“I love you, too,” I said. Although I don’t really feel like it right now, I thought angrily. Controlling bastard.

“How about this,” Steven said. “You go for a shorter time, and when you get back, we move in together? Does that sound good?”

“I still have two more years of school,” I said. “I…don’t feel ready for that yet.”

“When then what do you fucking feel ready for, Elizabeth,” Steven asked angrily. “Because I get the sense you don’t give a shit about me!”

“I’m ready to stay in a relationship with you,” I said firmly. “And I’m ready to go to England for a semester, and study there, and continue being in a relationship with you.”

Steven rolled his eyes. “So nothing,” he said. “I mean, right? We don’t want the same things.”

“You’re two years older,” I said softly. “Give me time, Steven. I’ll get there. I know I will, okay?”

Steven didn’t reply.

“If you make me choose between this and our relationship, Steven, I’m going to resent you,” I said softly. “And I don’t want to do that, but I need you to cut me a little slack. I’m going, but I promise, we’ll Skype every night, okay? I’ll never be out of touch for too long. And I don’t want to take a break.”

“And when you come back, we’ll talk about moving in together?”

I bit my lip. “I’ll think about it,” I said slowly. “That’s…that’s all I can promise right now, Steven.”

Steven rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever,” he said dismissively. “Have fun in London, Liz.”

He stomped to the doorway and threw the door open, slamming it shut behind him.

I knew I should chase after him, cry, say that I was sorry.

But I wasn’t sorry – if anything, I felt more alive and awake than I’d felt in years.

--

Classes at Oxford started a few days after classes at the U. Steven told me he wanted me to stay on campus with him, but I declined. Instead, I packed up my stuff and drove home to spend a few days with my parents. I hadn’t really been back since I’d left for college the year before – most holidays I spent with Steven’s family, outside of Jaffrey.

It was strange to acknowledge how free I felt as I drove south, my favorite playlist blaring from the speakers of my car. Maybe this is the start of something new, I thought as I coasted into Jaffrey at the end of the afternoon. Maybe Steven will be less controlling now, maybe he’ll get used to some space.

The truth was, our relationship hadn’t been doing well lately. I hadn’t told anyone – it felt weird talking about my personal life with friends – and everyone still thought of us as the perfect couple. But Steven had been even moodier and more suffocating than usual. His best friend, Kurt, had recently moved in with his girlfriend and despite the fact that they were both two years older than me, Steven had begun treating it as some kind of competition.

I was desperate to live on my own, at least for now. Sharing a room with three other girls my freshman year had been a terrible adventure…I wasn’t looking forward to doing that again, at least, not so soon. My mom seemed confused that I wasn’t chomping at the bit to move in with Steven, but at least she never said anything too rude about it.

I wondered how many people thought I was a total idiot for not committing to him with every fiber of my being. As much as I wanted to think it didn’t matter, I knew it did. It mattered to Steven, and unless I came around, I had a feeling our fights would get even worse.

Being back in Jaffrey gave me chills. As I pulled into the driveway, I looked around, half-expecting to see the ghosts of my past floating out of the woods and threatening to haunt me forever. But my parents’ house looked just the same as always: lawn neatly trimmed, clean-yet-cluttered interior.

It even smelled the same.

“Mom?” I called. “I’m home.”

There was no answer. Frowning, I left my bags in the foyer as I walked into the kitchen.

“Hey.”

The rough, scratchy voice made me jump. Whirling around, I saw my brother, Aidan, and gasped.

“You look so different!”

Aidan laughed. He was finally taller than me – by at least a head and a half – and he stood there, smirking and shaking his head. There was a hint of dark scuff on his cheeks and neck and his Adam’s apple protruded from his throat.

“Yeah,” Aidan said. He pulled me into a hug and I was surprised to feel the strength of his arms around me. “I’m all grown up, I guess. You look the same, though.”

“No shit,” I said, pulling away and reaching to ruffle his hair. Aidan ducked and we both burst out laughing.

“Mom’s out, doing something,” Aidan said. He wrinkled his nose. “She wanted me to stay home because there’s something in the oven. God, I’m starving,” he added. “You hungry?”

I shrugged. “Not really.”

Aidan pulled a huge container of fruit out of the fridge and made himself a plate, complete with a sandwich and three dill pickles.

“God, that’s a lot of food.”

Aidan raised an eyebrow. “You should hear Mom and Dad,” he said, wolfing down a huge bite of pear. “They keep talking about how they wish I was a girl, cause you barely ate when you were in high school.”

“That’s what they get for having more than one kid,” I said with a smirk. “How are things around here, really?”
Aidan shrugged. “The same, I guess,” he said. “I mean, it’s weird.” He cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with a napkin before leaning back in his chair. “I guess I never really noticed when I was younger, but I dunno…” He trailed off, his cheeks turning pink.

I narrowed my eyes. “What? What do you mean by that, exactly?”

Aidan shrugged again. “Nothing, it’s just…I don’t know, there’s kind of a weird energy around here,” he added, wrinkling his nose. “I know that makes me sound queer, but it’s like, you can’t ignore it.”

“Has anything happened at school? Like, has anyone disappeared? Or died? Or gotten hurt in a really weird way?”

Aidan took the last half of his sandwich and devoured it whole, chewing thoughtfully.

“Yeah,” Aidan said. “I mean, no one died, or disappeared, or anything. But like, this one class that started – it wasn’t there when you were still in high school – about how to navigate in the woods and make trails and shit, well, they all got lost in the woods for a couple of days. They were okay, but like, none of them would talk about it afterwards. I think it was probably scary or some shit.”

My heart jumped into my throat.

“Which woods?”

“The woods behind Monica’s old house,” Aidan said. He bit into a banana, eating half of it in one bite. “Her parents aren’t there anymore,” he added. “They moved a couple of years back.”

“Oh.”

It was all I could say.

“Anyway, England, huh? That’s cool,” Aidan said. “You excited?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “I am.”

“Lucky,” Aidan said. He yawned, stretching his hands high up in the air. “Nothing exciting ever happens around here. I’d kill to go to England.”

I licked my lips. Yeah, I thought, staring at my baby brother and wondering just how much evil was still lurking in Jaffrey. You’re lucky, you don’t know the half of it.

That night, I went for a walk in the woods, hoping to find the coven. But the woods remained elusive, and when the sun was starting to peek over the horizon, I knew I didn’t have a choice.

---
The next morning, Mom drove me to Logan airport. She hugged me for a long time and stared at me critically, narrowing her eyes.

“I hope you’ll email me every now and then,” Mom said. I could tell she was trying to a light tone but she sounded like a woman sending her own daughter off to the slaughter. “I’ll miss you, honey.”

“I’ll write every week,” I said. “Well, I’ll try.”

“You have your passport? And your money to get exchanged?”

I nodded.

“And you called your bank, and said you’re going to be in England for six months, and that they shouldn’t authorize any U.S. purchases?”

“Yes,” I said. I looked down. “Mom, I love you, but I have to go – there’s a huge line by security, and I don’t want to miss my flight.”

My mom nodded. “You really are grown up, sweetie.” She pulled me into a hug. “I’m proud of you. You know, you can always come back if you don’t like it.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” I said, trying hard not to sound too excited to be fleeing. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, sweetie.” Mom kissed me on the cheek. “You be safe, okay?”

“I will.”

Mom gave me one last hug and then I wrestled my two huge suitcases inside. The line to check in for United flights was trailing back, almost to the doors, and I groaned as I realized I was going to be standing for a long time. Fortunately, as soon as I was there, the line started moving almost instantly. I barely had time to wrestle my passport and driver’s license from my wallet when it was my turn to check in.

After I got through security, I bought myself a pretzel and settled into a chair by the gate. To my immense irritation, I saw that I had fourteen messages – all from Steven.

“Good morning, babe. Have fun with your mom on the way to the airport!”

“Hey babe, miss you already. Kurt says hi.”

“Hey, Elizabeth, you okay?”

“Elizabeth, are you getting these messages?”

“Are you at the airport?”

“When is your flight, can I have the flight number? I already forgot?”

“Elizabeth, I’m really worried. I’m calling your house.”

“Okay, your brother said your mom just got home, so where are you?”

“Elizabeth, where are you?”
“Babe, please, answer me – are you mad at me?”

“Because if you’re mad, I’m really sorry!”

“Elizabeth, answer your phone!”

“I’m sorry just please answer me I miss you so much.”

“Elizabeth what the fuck”

I rolled my eyes and texted him back: “Hey, sorry! Phone was off. Getting on the plane now, I’ll text you when I land!”

I powered my phone off and slipped it into my pocket. Part of me was almost paranoid that he’d do something crazy, like show up at the airport with a huge bouquet, a flash mob, and a proposal. It scared me so much that I kept twisting around in my seat and making sure that there weren’t any guys with dirty blonde hair in sight.

But thankfully, nothing like that happened.

The flight was long – longer than I’d ever been on a plane before. As we sped towards takeoff, I gripped both armrests of my seat with white-knuckled hands. I’d flown a few times before, and I’d never liked it, it had always terrified me.

But seven hours later, I touched down at Heathrow miraculously unscathed. From the airport, I caught a train to Oxford and spent an hour and a half gazing out at the beautiful English countryside. It looks like Vermont, I thought as the train whizzed by small town after small town. Imagine going halfway around the world and finding a place that looks just like where you’ve come from.

I was going to be sharing a flat with two other students from abroad, but neither of them had arrived by the time I picked up the keys and carried my bags up five flights of rickety, narrow steps. I claimed the biggest room, the one with a double bed, and decided to lie down.

When I woke up, it was after dark. I was starving, and the pantry was completely empty. I had another twenty-five messages from Steven – this time, I texted back and said that I was fine, but that I didn’t have great cell reception – and then looked up a few nearby pubs. There was one only a few minutes from the flat, so I took a shower and changed into fresh jeans and a black shirt.

The pub was crowded, full of college kids by the time I got there. I loved the mix of accents – something about British accents always sounded so educated to me – and I could barely order a beer and a burger for myself without blushing at the cute bartender. I half expected some of the kids in there to start talking to me, but no one did.

Happy, Steven, I thought as I looked around, chewing thoughtfully on a French fry. Everyone’s ignoring me – you must’ve sent some kind of memo to the students of Oxford before I even got here.

“Elizabeth?”

My jaw dropped and a half-chewed fry fell from my mouth into my lap. My cheeks flushed hot red as I spun around on the bar stool and saw David, standing there with a shocked look on his face.

“David?” God, what a stupid thing to say! Of course, it’s David. Real smart, Elizabeth.

David smiled weakly. He looked older – there was a line of dark stubble on his pale face, but he was still dressed in black with long dark hair flopping in his eyes.

“Yeah,” David said. “I thought that was you.” He shook his head and stepped closer. Both of the stools next to me were taken, so he stood next to my knees, staring into my eyes.

“I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I heard you say my name,” I said softly, pushing my plate to the side. My appetite had completely vanished – now my stomach was a twisting, churning mess of anxiety.
“What are you doing here?”

“I’m studying at Oxford for the semester. I got a scholarship, and I really wanted to go abroad…so here I am, I guess,” I said, feeling lame. “You?”

David ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed. It was strange – he couldn’t take his eyes off me, but there was something strange, almost hesitant about him.

“I graduated high school early and moved to London, went to King’s College and now I’m here.”

“Are you…?”

“Research. I’m in astrophysics.”

I nodded. “That’s cool,” I said slowly. Somehow, being with David again was making me feel as awkward as I’d been as a teenager. “So, I mean, how are you?”

David shrugged. “I’m okay,” he said. “I haven’t gone back to the States since I left. I don’t really know that I will. I like it here.” He snickered. “Everyone’s so cynical, I feel right at home.”

The person next to me left and David perched on the stool, hooking his long legs around it and leaning over the bar, as sensual as a cat.

“You want a beer?” I pointed to my empty glass.

David nodded. He flagged down the bartender and ordered for both of us, paying before I could even pull my wallet out of my jeans.

We drank in mostly silence. I couldn’t get over seeing him, in person, after so long. He was different – less sullen – but his spirit was so familiar that it almost hurt. I felt like there was nothing I could say –every word, every phrase sounded so lame in my head that I barely opened my mouth. David didn’t try to talk much, either. By the time my second glass was empty, I was starting to feel tipsy and uncomfortable.

David got to his feet and stretched. “It was good to see you,” he said. “Maybe we’ll bump into each other sometime. I come here a lot.”

Without thinking about what I was doing, I scribbled my number on a napkin. “Here,” I said. “Call me sometime, I don’t know anyone here.”

David gave me an amused smile. “You’ll make friends, Elizabeth – you’ll be in a program with tons of other people just like you. I mean, not just like you,” he added quickly. “But you know, in the same situation.”

I nodded. “I know,” I said. “But it might be nice to see an old friend sometime.”

“Is that what we are?”

I shrugged and tried to smile. “I guess,” I said. “I mean, I think so.”

David nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he said. He slipped the napkin into his pocket and my heart sank – I was sure that he was just being polite. He leaned into give me a one-armed hug, then nodded his head and left the pub.

After David had gone, I felt stupid sitting there by myself. This was a dumb idea, anyway, I thought as I paid for my burger and slid off the stool. I was stupid to think I could just go out and make friends by sitting alone.

When I got back to my flat, the other two girls were unpacking in their room. One of them was on the phone – she had someone on speaker – and she was shouting in French. I rolled my eyes. Yeah, I thought as I slipped into my room and shut the door. Definitely going to make friends with people in the same situation as me.

I pulled out my laptop and got ready to write an email to my mom. Not that there was much to say, but I honestly couldn’t deal with the prospect of calling Steven. Still, I knew I should check my messages. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I turned it on and waited for the inevitable notifications to fill my screen like angry darts.
To my surprise, my phone started buzzing right away with a British number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Elizabeth, it’s David. Where are you staying?”

My heart skipped a beat as I gave him the address.

“Want me to come over? I just got a bottle of this great wine, you’ll really like it.”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “That would be great.”

Ten minutes later, I met David at the door. Holding my hand up to my mouth, I gestured for him to be quiet. David nodded and followed me inside, slinking down the dark hallway like a cat. When his arm brushed against mine, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

My flatmates were still hiding in their own rooms, doors shut, lights out. I knew that I should be tired – aside from my nap, I’d been awake for almost thirty-six hours.

But seeing David again was making me feel anxious and jittery, like I’d just drank three cups of espresso.

“Nice,” David said quietly, running his hand along the inside of the door frame.

I forced a laugh. “Yeah,” I said. “I was kinda worried – I didn’t see many pictures of this place before I got here.”

David sat down on the edge of my bed and produced a bottle of wine from his backpack. He raised an eyebrow at me as he propped the bottle between his thighs and unscrewed the cork.

“I’ll go get glasses,” I said nervously. To be honest, I was glad for a distraction. I thought David would follow me from my bedroom to the kitchen, but when I got back, he was lying down and staring at the ceiling.

David smirked when he saw me. “Elizabeth, relax.”

“Sorry,” I said, stepping forward and sitting down gingerly at the edge of the bed. The mattress was an old one – it was hard not to sink back towards David, and after a few seconds, I moved to the desk.

David poured two glasses to the brim, then carefully handed it over.

“I didn’t sleep for a week when I first got here,” David said, running a hand through his black hair.

“Jet lag?”
David shook his head. “Not exactly. More like…amazement. I couldn’t believe that I was really here, that I’d gotten out of the States for good.”

I nodded. “It feels surreal,” I said. “I’m here, and I don’t feel any different. But everything’s different now.”
David nodded. He reached forward and we clinked glasses.

“You were right,” I said. “This is good.”

David nodded. “Not exactly known for their wine, I know, but there’s a little vineyard around here. I’m friends with some of the people who work there.”

I licked my lips nervously and took another long sip. The wine was fruity and almost smoky. It wasn’t round, like a California wine, but it seemed to be imbued somehow with the melancholy of England.

“It’s different,” David added. “But it’s grown on me.”

For a moment, we sat in silence. The question was tearing me apart inside, but I couldn’t even think of how to ask.

Finally, I knew that I had to get it out and over with.

“Do you ever think about Monica?”

David cocked his head to the side and gave me an odd look. “Yes. All the time.”

“I miss her,” I said. I shivered and set my glass down, wrapping my arms around my body. “No one ever talks about her anymore.”

David shrugged. “It hasn’t been that long,” he said.

“It feels like a lifetime.”

“Maybe to you,” David said. He drained half his glass at once. “But as soon as I left Vermont…I don’t know,” he added, shaking his head. “Something changed.”

I frowned. “How? What do you mean?”

“Hard to explain,” David said dryly. “I miss her. But there’s something inside of me, almost like a tangible object…and it’s not time for me to move on yet.”

Desperate for something to do with my hands, I grabbed my glass and took a long swallow. The wine burned my throat on the way down but I kept drinking, suddenly hungry for that hot, bleary sensation that told me I was well on my way to getting drunk.

“Things never went back to normal,” I said softly. “After she died, I mean.”

David raised an eyebrow. “So you believe it, then? You think she died?”

“It feels crazy to say that I feel like she’s still alive,” I said. “I don’t know, David. I miss her. But I had to get on with my life.”

“I wish I felt the same way,” David said. He peered at me intently. “Seeing you, though…”

“What?” I flushed.

“Eh, nothing.”

“Oh, god, don’t do that,” I said, shaking my head and draining my glass. “Tell me.”

David smiled – a faint curl of his lips. Someone who hadn’t met him before wouldn’t have even seen it but somehow, I knew. Somehow over the years, I’d learned to read him.

“Seeing you almost makes me feel like pushing past it,” David said. He sat up and refilled his glass. When I handed mine over, he did the same thing for me without being asked. We clinked and drank in silence.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” David said. “It’s crazy. I hadn’t thought about you in years…and here you are.”

Something warm and fluttery inside of my chest twisted at the sound of his words, at the sound of his voice when he said ‘you.’

“Here I am,” I said quietly. Suddenly, the idea was almost comical to me. I’d flown halfway around the world to escape one man in my life. I giggled, flushing hotly when David gave me a skeptical look.

“I somehow should’ve guessed you have a low tolerance,” David said dryly. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”

“No, it’s not that,” I said. I licked my lips. “I’m glad you called, David.”

Just then, a new thought – a darker thought – sprang into my mind. She can’t be dead, I realized as I stared down into my glass of crimson wine. She’s still alive – somewhere – because otherwise, her spells would have faded. David said he feels like he can’t move on. I glanced down at my phone, willing the screen to be empty. My heart sank when I saw the fifteen notifications from Steven D’Amico.

“You got serious all of a sudden,” David said. He frowned. “What’s wrong? I was kidding,” he added. “I’m glad I called, too.”

My heart was thudding in my chest as I stood up and walked over to the bed. When I sat next to David, the mattress shifted and rolled and suddenly I was pressed up against him.

“Elizabeth?” David looked at me for a second. I shivered – the look in his dark eyes made me feel exposed.

“I think this happened for a reason,” I said softly. “I…I can’t believe we would’ve found each other like this if something wasn’t supposed to happen.”

David didn’t reply, but he put an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to his lean body. When I felt his fingers skimming along the back of my neck, I closed my eyes and sighed softly.

“What do you think,” I asked softly. “I…I can’t read your mind, David.”

David set his wine glass down and shifted on the bed, facing me. The mattress lurched again and I fell against his chest, bracing my hands on his body. We stared at each other, not speaking. Then David reached up and stroked my cheek, cupping my chin.

“I’ve thought about you for a long time,” I said quietly. My cheeks flamed and I desperately wanted to look away but I couldn’t tear my eyes free from David’s gaze.

“Elizabeth…”

I leaned in and closed my eyes, putting my mouth close to David’s. I could smell him – the dark, musky scent of his body and whatever cologne he wore, and the smoky blend of wine.

“I have to break up with Steven.”

David’s hands on my shoulders were firm, but gentle as he pushed me away.

“I can’t do this, Elizabeth,” David said, climbing off the bed and getting to his feet.

My heart sank as I watched him sling his pack over his shoulder.

“No, please, don’t go,” I said quickly.

David shook his head. “If you’re still with that guy, I’m not staying,” he said. “I’m not going to sneak around like this, Elizabeth.” He gave me a long, hard look. “I really like you, but I’m not gonna sit around and wait for you to make up your mind about me.”

I closed my eyes and sighed as David left, closing the door quietly behind him. Part of me wanted to run after him, but I knew he was right. Before, back when we were kids, things had been different.

So why did I still want him so much?

I barely slept that night. I kept dreaming of men – David, Steven, some horrible combination of the two of them. When I woke up, Steven’s angry face was clinging to my mind as fiercely as if the image had been burnt to my brain.

I knew I should be nervous. But in that moment, reaching for my phone and settling back against the pillows, I felt nothing but cool, collected serenity washing over me.

Steven answered on the first ring.

“Elizabeth, what the hell is going on,” Steven demanded loudly. Wincing, I pulled the phone away from my face as his voice grew louder and louder. “I was so fucking worried about you! Do you know it’s been almost twenty-four hours since I heard from you? I was about to call the goddamned police,” he snapped. “Why would you do that to me?”

I sighed. “Steven, this isn’t working.”

“No shit,” Steven said angrily. “This nothing like what we agreed on, Elizabeth! How the fuck am I supposed to support my girlfriend if she won’t even talk to me?”

A twinge of anxiety sparked in my chest and I took a deep breath. “No, not this trip,” I said slowly. “Us. We’re not working, Steven. I can’t do this – I can’t be here and give you what you want.”

“I knew this would happen,” Steven growled. “I knew you just wanted an excuse to be away from me.”

I bit my lip.
“Elizabeth, tell me,” Steven demanded loudly. “Be honest.”

“You know what?” I said, not even thinking of the words as they tumbled from my mouth. “I did come here to get away from you. I’ve been trying to get away from you for years,” I added, shaking my head.

“Elizabeth, I—“

“Don’t,” I said. “We need to take a break, Steven. I need to be here on my own and figure some things out.”
“That’s bullshit,” Steven snapped. “You just want to have it both ways!”

“No,” I said. “I don’t. I want to break up, Steven.”

“You’re being crazy,” Steven said. The derisive edge in his voice made me roll my eyes. “You’re throwing away a really good relationship just because you’re selfish!”

“Me, selfish?” I said incredulously, shaking my head. “That’s the farthest thing from the truth! All I want to do is maintain my own life, Steven. And you’re not happy with that – you won’t be happy unless we’re completely merged!”

“Because that’s how relationships are supposed to be,” Steven growled angrily. “We’re supposed to want each other all the time, Elizabeth. And that’s how I feel about you – that’s how much I want you!”

“Steven, I can’t do this,” I said. “I need some time.”

“Do I need to fly over there and bring you home? Christ, Elizabeth! I don’t know what’s going on but you’re completely losing your mind.”

Tears of anger and defiance pricked my eyes and I blinked them back. “No, Steven,” I said coldly. “You can do whatever you want, but I’m not coming home until the end of the semester.”

“Elizabeth, I love you. Come on, please don’t do this. I can’t live without you, I feel like I’m losing my mind!”

For a moment, I felt guilt burning me. But then I took a deep breath and shook my head.

“We’re breaking up until I get back from England,” I said. “And then we can decide what we want to do, but you’re not going to bully me into staying with you.”

Steven didn’t reply. I wondered if I should say something else, then I heard the buzz of a dial tone in my ear.

“Fine,” I said into the dead space. “Bye, Steven.”

Chapter Seven

Elizabeth – Present Day

“Elizabeth,” Ligeia said. “This is a warning. If you leave, we cannot assure you of anything. And your betrayal will not be so easily forgotten.”

“I’m not leaving forever,” I said quickly. “I told you – I just have some things that I have to take care of, that’s all. I’ll be back. I promise.”

“This is what you wanted, remember?” Ligeia glared. “You wanted your best friend, your Monica. And now she has returned, and yet you are still not happy. Why, Elizabeth?”

“Because,” I growled through gritted teeth. “She’s not the same.”

“Isn’t she?” Ligeia clicked her tongue against her teeth and shook her head. “Or have you just remembered things which you’d rather have forgotten?”

The words hit me like a punch to the chest. Dropping to my knees, I closed my eyes and surrendered to my own emotions. Tears came to my lids and I blinked them back hotly, covering my face with my hands.

“I just don’t know why I was able to forget everything that happened,” I moaned, sniffling. “I don’t know why I forgot! And now, I can’t un-see the past. I can’t…” I trailed off, biting my lip and sighing. “I can’t forget about her stabbing Andrea.”

Ligeia gave me a cold look. “You are weak, child,” she said. “Take time – return home, regain your strength.”

Relief washed over me.

“But then you will return,” Ligeia said harshly. “You will return, and serve me, for as long as I please.” She held her chin high in the air.

As I ran from the coven, I wondered just what exactly Ligeia had in mind.

I ran for what felt like hours and hours, until my legs were threatening to give way from under my body and my chest ached so badly that I felt like I’d been stabbed in the lungs.

It felt like a much, much longer way out of the woods than usual. By the time I got back home, the moon was high above me and the night sky was dotted with stars.

I didn’t know what I was going to do. The only thing I was certain of was that I couldn’t go home – not like this, not when I didn’t have any answers.

And now when I didn’t feel like dealing with Steven or Karen.

Instead, I wandered around until the dark sky began to fade into a tawny pink and orange sunrise. I was starving and dehydrated, but somehow it was like the needs of my body weren’t even a concern. I was running on autopilot, on fear.

On anticipation.

Finally, I reached for my phone. Please work, I thought as I scrolled through my contacts. Please let me find him.

When he answered, the voice was deeper and almost unrecognizable.

“Hello?”

I cleared my throat. “It’s Elizabeth,” I said nervously. “I need to talk to you.”

David sighed. “This is a surprise,” he said. His voice was neutral, impossible to read. “What’s going on?”

Oh, nothing, your long-lost girlfriend is miraculously still alive and the witches I swore fealty to want me dead, I thought sarcastically. But of course, I knew I couldn’t say anything like that.

“The coven,” I managed to say. “The leaders…they’re lying to me,” I said. “About Monica.”

David was so silent on the other line of the phone that for a moment I thought I’d lost the call. I had no idea what I was doing – if I brought Monica home, what was going to happen? Would she call off the spells? Or would everything just revert back to the way it had been before – complete and total insanity. I shuddered. I didn’t want that back – I didn’t want to be standing in the eye of the hurricane, watching as Steven made a fool of himself day after day.

But I knew something had to change.

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” David sounded petulant, peevish. “Elizabeth, why did you call me?”

“Because something’s wrong and I don’t know how to handle it,” I said softly, slumping down and sitting on the wet ground. “And you’re the only one I can trust.”

David inhaled sharply. “What about your fiancé?”

“We’re broken up.”

“Elizabeth, I don’t know what you think I can do,” David said. “It’s not like I can flip a switch and have everything back to normal.”

“I know that,” I said. I couldn’t lie – the way he was talking to me like I was a little kid was hurtful. But I deserve this, I thought, thinking back over the years. I’d never been honest with myself when David was concerned. And now, I was paying for that.

David sighed. “Look, if you’re really that worried – why not try to go back? Why not see if you can find out what they want on your own? You’re smart, Elizabeth – I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“What if I can’t find it on my own?”

“Then I can’t help you, anyway,” David said. Even though I couldn’t see his face, I had a feeling he was smirking. “So you might as well just give it a shot on your own.”

“But if they’re lying to me, how am I supposed to outsmart them? That’s not fair, they’re both much more powerful than I am.”
“Well, they obviously want something from you,” David drawled. “Just try, Elizabeth. If there’s a chance of your helping Monica, it’ll be worth it.”

That stung, too, but I nodded and bit my lip, determined not to let him know that he’d hurt me.

“I have to take a chance,” I said, more for my benefit than David’s. “I have to try.”

“Yeah,” David said. “Look, I’m sorry…”

“About what?” I narrowed my eyes.

“Forget it, Elizabeth,” David said. “I’m worried about you, that’s all.”

I sighed heavily. “Well, I got myself into this,” I said softly. “The least I can do is try to help myself out.” I wouldn’t have admitted it, but hearing David say that he was worried about me was like a soothing balm on my fear.

“Good luck,” David said. “I’ll be in touch, okay?”

“Okay,” I said numbly. “Thanks.”

We hung up and I slipped my phone back into my pocket. By now, the humid night air was drying up and I was feeling exhausted. It was with a heavy heart that I walked the distance from the edge of the woods to the house that I still shared with Steven and Karen. I sighed with relief when I saw that the driveway was empty.

Good, I thought as I slipped inside and kicked off my muddy shoes. At least I don’t have to worry about a fight.

“There you are.”

At the sound of Karen’s voice, I jumped in alarm and clutched my chest.

“Jesus,” I muttered, flicking the light switch. Karen was sitting at the dining room table with her arms crossed over her chest.

She glared. “You haven’t been home in days,” Karen pointed out. “Steven’s really worried about you.”

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. “Yeah, I bet he is,” I said sourly. “Look, I’m just here to pack a bag.”

“You’re making a mistake, Elizabeth,” Karen said. “You’re being really selfish and I don’t even think you understand what kind of damage you’re doing to Steven.”

I sighed. “Look, why do you even care? This isn’t any of your business,” I said angrily. I took a deep breath and tried to stay calm but I couldn’t help it – I was getting so tired of everyone acting like they knew better than me.

“I care because you’re both my friends,” Karen said. “And I don’t really like watching my friends throw things away,” she added.

“Like I said, none of your business.”

I walked out of the kitchen and jogged up the stairs. The bedroom I shared with Steven was a complete mess. I frowned as I opened the closet and reached for my suitcase.

“Elizabeth, I’m going to call Steven, he should come over and you guys can talk.”

“Karen, butt out of this,” I snapped.

Karen gave me a wounded look. To my dismay, she stalked into the room and flopped down on our bed, intently watching me as I tossed jeans and tops into the open suitcase.

“Where are you going?”

I didn’t look up.

“Elizabeth?”

I sighed. “I’m going to my parents’ house for a few days while I get things sorted out,” I said, brushing my sweaty hair back from my forehead. “And then I guess I’m moving out. We’re almost at the end of our lease, anyway,” I added. “So this isn’t a bad time.”

Karen was looking at me with her mouth hanging open. “You’re kidding,” she said.

“I’m not.” Looking down into my suitcase, I decided that I’d gathered enough of my things. I grabbed a small bag and dumped my makeup, deodorant, and phone charger inside before tucking it in my suitcase and zipping the whole thing closed.

“Steven’s going to be really upset,” Karen said.

“I don’t care,” I replied flatly. “That’s not my problem, Karen.”

Karen frowned. “I don’t know why you’re being so cold,” she said, sniffing as if I’d somehow offended her.

“Karen, I don’t really have a choice,” I said, shaking my head and pulling my suitcase up. For just having a few clothes inside, it was surprisingly heavy.
“Well, if Steven comes back, what do you want me to tell him?”

I shrugged as I made my way down the hall. “I don’t care,” I said, shaking my head. “Tell him whatever you want.”

The drive home to Jaffrey felt shorter than usual, almost as if the town was somehow anticipating my arrival. When I pulled into the driveway, Mom ran out from the house immediately. She smiled tentatively, as if she wasn’t sure how she should greet me.

“I’m fine,” I said, rising out of the car and forcing a smile. “Trust me, this is a good thing.”

Mom nodded but this time, she was frowning. “Honey, I’m just happy you’ve come back for a visit,” she said softly.

“Yeah, about that…” I trailed off, gnawing on my lip. I wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something about being around my parents that still made me feel like a little kid. “I might be here for a while,” I added. “My lease is up soon and I’ll need to find a new place.”

“What about Steven?”

“I don’t know,” I said darkly as I hefted my suitcase out of the backseat and carried it up the driveway. “I think I need some time on my own for a while.”

“That’s not a bad thing, honey,” Mom said. She smiled, but I could tell she was unhappy. “How does salmon sound for dinner?”

“Great,” I muttered. “Perfect, even.”

Mom left me alone while I settled back into my room. Aidan was off at college in Georgia – we hadn’t talked in months. I had him added as a friend on Facebook, but I had the sinking suspicion he’d long since changed all of his privacy settings so I’d never be able to see what he was up to. It was funny – now that we were older, I had a lot of affection for Aidan. But at the same time, I’d never forgotten about what had happened when we were growing up.

Being back in my old room felt strange. I tried to push those feelings to the side, but now that I was home, I couldn’t stop thinking about Monica. What would happen when I tried to find the coven?

Was I already too late?

“Elizabeth!” Mom yelled. “Dinner!”

“Coming,” I yelled back. “Just give me a second.”

Dinner was awkward. Mom and Dad were clearly curious about what was going on – and why I wasn’t wearing my engagement ring – but they knew better than to pry. Still, the silence was killing me.

“Look,” I said bluntly. “I’m fine, okay?”

“I know, honey,” Mom said. She reached out and put a hand on my arm. “I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”
“You have literally no reason to be worried,” I told her, crossing my arms. “I just don’t think I’m ready to get married. Not to Steven, at least.”

Mom and Dad exchanged a nervous glance. “That’s important, honey,” Dad said slowly. “And you know how I feel about this – you’re much too young.”

Mom sighed. “Elizbeth, we just want you to know that we support you.”

I stabbed my fork down in a pile of oven-roasted carrots. “Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

“And however long you want to stay here, that’s fine,” Mom continued. “But we’ll have to talk about rent.”

I laughed. “Trust me, I won’t be here more than a few days,” I said. At least, I hope I won’t.

“However long is fine,” Dad said. He cleared his throat and pushed back from the table. “If you’ll both excuse me, I’m going to do some work in my office.”

When Dad was gone, the awkward tension went from mildly unbearable to incredibly uncomfortable. I stood up and carried my plate over to the sink, washing it off and sticking it in the dishwasher.

“You’re so grown up,” Mom said, leaning back in her chair and narrowing her eyes. “I feel like I don’t even know you, honey.”

I frowned. “That’s an odd thing to say,” I said slowly. “Are you mad at me?”

Mom gazed at me with a glassy expression. “Of course not,” she said. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. It feels like yesterday that you were back in high school.”

“I’m going upstairs for the night,” I said, feigning a yawn. “Want me to clean up?”

Mom shook her head. “No, honey, it’s okay,” she said. “Thanks for offering.”

I darted up the stairs, unable to shake the feeling that I’d somehow driven myself back in time.

Waiting for Mom and Dad to go to sleep was torture. It was ridiculous – I was an adult now, it wasn’t like I had to wait for their permission to leave. But again, being back in their house made me feel young and inexperienced, a true naïf.

Finally, around ten-thirty, the light under my parents’ bedroom door turned off. I dressed in jeans, a pair of hiking boots, and a thick sweater, but then I made myself wait another fifteen minutes. It wasn’t until I could hear the loud sound of my dad snoring through his bedroom door that I snuck downstairs and crept outside, into the woods.
“I’m coming for you, Monica,” I said under my breath. “You’d better be ready.”

My boots crunched over dead leaves and twigs as I walked hesitantly into the woods. I shivered, remembering the last time I’d looked for the coven – years ago, before leaving for abroad. Then, I wasn’t able to find it. But tonight I was feeling determined and powerful. The moon was almost full and I tried to summon the strength of the goddess as I walked through the branches and brambles.

I’m a goddess, just like you, I thought in determination as I hiked further and further away.

For once, I felt confident and strong. Sure enough, the woods around me began to thin and warm as I approached the coven. When I hit the clearing, I took a deep breath.

“Ligeia,” I called loudly. “I’ve returned.”

Ligeia floated across the clearing, looking pleased and dignified. “Child,” she said. “You’ve come back. I knew you would return.”

I forced a smile. I knew that I was about to give the biggest theatrical performance of my life, and I was starting to get nervous. My hands were sweaty and I wiped them on my thighs.

“Yes,” I said, keeping my voice sweet and light. “I came back. I had to, you know.”

“And have you made your decision?”
Swallowing, I nodded briefly. “Yes,” I said softly. “I’ve decided to remain here, and allow Monica the chance of returning to the world beyond the coven.”

Ligeia smiled. “Good,” she said. “I am pleased with you, child. Henrik, too, will be pleased.”

“I’m glad.”

“Come, child,” Ligeia said, clapping her hands together briefly. “There is much to be done.”

I followed Ligeia through the clearing, between the different huts, and into the circle of woods where Andrea’s body had been bound to a tree years ago. I could feel her energy pulsing weakly through the enchanted land – she was still alive, but barely.

“It doesn’t seem like years have passed,” I said softly. “It feels almost like yesterday.”

Ligeia smiled, showing her even and white teeth. “I can understand that, child,” she said. “For me, it has been a mere blink.”
My apprehension grew as I followed Ligeia deeper and deeper into the woods. The moon was gleaming and white overhead – I wasn’t sure why, but it always seemed much larger in the coven than it did in the real world.
Ligeia stopped and pulled a knife from her robes. She held it out to me and gave me an expectant look.

“Offer yourself to the earth, child,” Ligeia said.

Gritting my teeth, I took the sacred athame from Ligeia’s hands and sliced open my palms, squeezing the puckered skin until the blood was flowing freely. It hurt, but I felt somehow detached from the pain.

So far, everything is working, I thought as I knelt and smeared my palms to the earth. Ligeia knelt down and took my wrists in her hands with surprising strength. She bound my wrists together with a leather cord.
“Your soul shall be bound to the coven from this point forward,” Ligeia said. She took the athame and gently scratched something on my forehead with the tip. As I felt the sharp blade cut into my skin, I winced.

Ligeia took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Then she began to chant, mumbling under her breath and rolling her head around on her neck. The trees began to wave and sway, mimicking Ligeia’s graceful movements. The wind increased and whirled around me, whipping my hair around my face in painful tangles. Ligeia’s chanting grew louder, as if it was coming from the earth itself. My heart started to thud faster and faster and soon, I felt like my chest was opening right up to the universe.

“You belong to us,” Ligeia thundered. I shivered – the sound of her voice was no longer just Ligeia’s, but Henrik’s, too, and all of the witches in the coven. Her blue eyes blazed brightly in the dim light and I shuddered at the intense look there.

Ligeia touched the knife to my chest, right above my heart. She pressed the blade against my skin until I began to bleed. Strangely, it didn’t hurt at all – but I felt a strange, swirling energy inside my body. It was an odd feeling, almost like a storm was raging within my bones.

When it was over, Ligeia cut the cords from my wrists. Rubbing them with my fingers, I climbed shakily to my feet.

“Now, child, you want to see Monica, yes?”

“Yes.” My mouth was dry and I licked my lips. “Please, I mean.”

Ligeia nodded. “I am pleased with you,” she said. “You have done well, Elizabeth.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. If she had any idea how I was really feeling,…well, I didn’t even want to think about that.

I followed Ligeia out of the woods and back into the clearing. Monica was sitting there, with her head cocked to the side. When she saw me, she looked confused.

“Ligeia, mistress, I have one favor to ask from you,” I said, bowing my head to show respect. “Please, allow me to leave one last time – so that I can say goodbye to my fiancé, Steven.”

Ligeia frowned. “You have broken with him, have you not?”

“Yes, because I knew I was coming back here,” I said softly. “But I want to say goodbye.”

Monica narrowed her eyebrows. “Ligeia,” she said quickly. “You have to let Elizabeth go, or else my spell still holds on Steven. He won’t ever get over it, or have a normal life, without her. She has to see him once more to break the enchantment.”

Ligeia’s blue eyes were two turbulent storms as she stared at Monica, then at me.

“Child,” she said quietly. “You deceived me.”

Fear struck my heart and I shook my head quickly from side to side. “I didn’t,” I said quickly.

“Elizabeth didn’t mean to,” Monica said. “She didn’t know about the spell I’d cast, Ligeia.”

Ligeia gave me a long, hard look. “Your soul is bound to that of Prudence Arrowsmith now,” she said. “If you do not return of your own free will, I will be forced to come and take you. That will not be pleasant,” she said, staring coldly. “You understand, yes?”

“I know,” I said quickly. Inside, I was panicking. But something about Monica’s calm expression made me feel better – was it true, what she’d said about the spell?

It didn’t matter, as long as I had one last chance to break free.

“Besides, I should take Monica back,” I added softly. “She’s been away for years. She’ll need to acclimate.”

Ligeia scoffed. “I do not wish to hear any more,” she said. I could tell she was seething with anger. “Go, then, if you must,” she said. “But when you return, know that from that point on, you belong to me. The coven will be your permanent home. You will never be allowed to leave.”

I didn’t say anything – I was too afraid that somehow agreeing with her would just make things worse. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Monica grabbed my wrist and pulled me away. We walked through the clearing together, my heart pounding in my chest.

“What are you doing,” I hissed.

Monica looked at me, clearly frightened. “Shh,” she said. “Not yet, it’s not safe.”

We walked on in silence. The blood pounding against my eardrums was deafening, and it took a full minute to realize that we were actually running. As the woods grew denser and less full of Ligeia’s powerful magic, I felt an equal sense of relief and terror shooting through my body.

We didn’t stop running until we were almost out of the woods. When I could see the treeline and the houses of Jaffrey, I took a deep breath and stopped, leaning over to rub my legs.

“Monica…” I trailed off, reaching for my friend’s shoulder. She stopped and turned, giving me a frightened look.

“What?”

I swallowed nervously. “People…everyone thinks your dead,” I said softly. “They had a memorial service and everything.”

Monica gave me a strange look. “I’m not surprised,” she said, shaking her head. “It was probably easier for Henrik to do that than worry about wiping everyone’s minds.”

I bit my lip. A cold chill came over me and I shuddered. My palms were still bleeding from the deep cuts of Ligeia’s athame.

“Why did you do that,” Monica asked softly. “Why would you risk coming back like this, Elizabeth?”

“I had to,” I said. “I…Something’s not right,” I added.

“No shit,” Monica said darkly. “They lied to us the whole time. I just wish I could’ve told you before you signed yourself over like that.”

“What?” I frowned. “What do you mean, lied?”

“About everything,” Monica said. “Come on, this way.”

She led me around the back of her house and into the yard. When we were just a short distance away from the woods, Monica turned to me with tears glistening in her brown eyes.

“They lied about everything,” she said, sniffling. “About Andrea, about Prudence – about the real reason why they wanted her.”

My heart sank. “So I was right,” I said slowly. “I had a feeling…that something wasn’t right.”

“It’s worse than you could have imagined,” Monica said. She swallowed hard. “They didn’t want to protect the world from Prudence. They wanted her soul for themselves – they wanted her power, and they told me they were sick of living in hiding.” She wrapped her thin arms around her thin torso and hugged herself tightly. “And now, they have her soul. They can do it, Elizabeth. They can unleash hell on the whole world.”
For a moment, I thought I was going to pass out.

“Why? Why would they do this? And then lie – why would they lie to us?”

Monica looked miserable. “Because they’re powerful witches,” she said, shaking her head. “And we only have one chance at defeating them.”

I shook my head. “There’s no way we’d be able to do that,” I said softly. “There’s no way we’re strong enough.”

Monica smiled. “You’re forgetting something,” she said. “Before I left…well, I have a surprise for you.”

I frowned. “This isn’t a time to joke around,” I said, shaking my head. “This is really fucked up, Monica! This is serious shit!”

“I know,” Monica said. “Look, I’m not trying to make light of the situation. But I swear, this is important.”

“What, then?”

Monica pointed toward the woods. When I saw Andrea walking towards us, in a ghostly trance, I shrieked with fear.
“Shhh, Elizabeth!” Monica grabbed my hand and squeezed. “This is a good thing, she’s going to help us!”

“You’re kidding,” I said warily. “You hate each other.”

“Prudence’s soul is asleep,” Monica said, shaking her head. “But we don’t have much time.”

Andrea came closer and closer. She was floating just above the ground, the tips of her feet brushing against the wet grass. Her eyes were closed and I could sense that she was barely alive, that she was on the very edge of death.
“Andrea,” Monica said, snapping her fingers. “Wake up.”

Andrea’s eyelids flew open. “Hello, Elizabeth,” she said softly. “It’s been a long time.”

I stared right back at her. “Yes,” I replied. “Yes, it has.”

Chapter Eight

Andrea

When I was a little girl, my mother used to hold me in her arms and tell me that I was the most special child in the world. For a long time, I never really thought anything of it.

But as I got older, I realized how different my life was from the other children I knew.

We were always a very close-knit family. I was close to my mother, my aunts and uncles, and my brother, Steven. Mother prided herself on being the strength of the family, the backbone that kept the rest of us going. She was so strong that it scared me sometimes – I could hardly watch her without wondering if I’d ever learn to be as tough.

When I was four years old, something happened that would change the rest of my life. I remember the day really well – it was bright and sunny and humid, one of those summer days that makes you tired just from the heat. My older brother, Steven, and I were at church, in the basement: it was Vacation Bible School week, and I’d just gotten my very first bible. I was so proud and happy, I couldn’t stop running around and showing it off.

One of the other children pulled me aside and gave me a mean look.
“Do you believe in Hell,” she asked, plucking the bible from my hands and flipping through the thin pages. “Because I think we’re all going there.”

I can’t remember what I said back to her, but it really upset me. I couldn’t stop crying, and I wouldn’t tell my mother – or anyone else – what was bothering me so much. I was suddenly terrified of dying and going to Hell. For months and months, it was all I thought about. I barely slept. At night, I’d pull the covers over my head and pray for hours, too keyed up to drift off.

I thought it was real, you see – I felt it was real, with every cell in my body.

That was when I became truly religious. Our whole family was very pious, even Steven, before he got into high school. Mother would pray with us nightly, holding our hands and instructing us to stay close as a family. It was hugely important to me. And I have to admit, I enjoyed the special attention that I got from Mother now that I was learning to have a personal relationship with God.

But when I started school, everything changed. In kindergarten, I wasn’t very happy. Eventually, after a couple of months, the teachers tested me and decided that I should be placed in first grade. They thought that would help, but at first, it just made things worse. I felt so much smaller and younger than the rest of the children in my class, even though they were just one year older than myself. It was a strange and scary experience, and the only thing that got me through it was knowing that at the end of each day, I’d go home and Mother would be waiting with a snack in the kitchen.

My brother, Steven, took naturally to school. He was smart and athletic, and his older friends would always hang around the house, eating all of our food and making a mess in the kitchen. Mother didn’t mind, even when I sulk about it – she was happy that her children were doing well and making friends.

“Andrea, you’ve got to be friendly,” she’d say when I complained about not having any friends. “You’ve got to make those older kids realize that you deserve to be with them, don’t you understand?”

I understood, but I was so naturally shy that it was hard.

Then one day, everything changed. I was crying in the bathroom and two girls in my class – Elizabeth Hartsell and Monica Boer – walked into the bathroom. I’d never talked to them before. Elizabeth seemed nice enough: she was quiet, like me. But Monica was a troublemaker. She was loud and brash and she’d made half of the boys in our class cry.

I was afraid of her.

“Why are you crying?” Monica asked, walking over and putting her hands on her hips. She was short and slim, but somehow she seemed as intimidating as an adult. “There’s no reason to be upset,” she added. “You’re fine.”

“Monica…” Elizabeth looked at her friend and trailed off. “Andrea, what’s wrong?”

“I’m afraid,” I said softly.

“Don’t be stupid,” Monica said. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”

“But I might die,” I replied. Tears filled my eyes and my chin began to tremble and shake. “I might die and go to Hell.”

Elizabeth and Monica exchanged a weird look.

“You’re not going to die, don’t be stupid,” Monica said. She spoke with the arrogant air of our teacher. “Stop crying. We should go back to class.”

But Elizabeth had been kinder. She’d taken my hand and told me that everything was going to be okay, that I just had to take a few deep breaths until I calmed down. To my shock, she was right.

After that, we sort of became friends. I wasn’t particularly close to either of the girls, but my mother was just happy that I had a few acquaintances for playdates. And Monica was oddly fascinated with our house – she loved coming over and poking around, sticking her nose in all of Mother’s religious books.

“Little girls shouldn’t be reading that,” Mother said once, flushing as she plucked a book about natural contraception from Monica’s hands. “It’s inappropriate.”

Monica stuck her tongue out. “Jamie and Brian let me read whatever I want,” she said, tossing her fair hair. “I don’t think it’s fair.”

My mother didn’t care for Monica after that – she said she was disrespectful – but I couldn’t help it. I was suddenly in awe of her. She was so cool. She never cared what anyone thought about her, and she could come up with insults quicker than I could snap my fingers. Most of all, her parents let her wear whatever she wanted…and she called them by their first names! She was like a character from a show: cool and wild and more than a little scary.

I didn’t understand why she and Elizabeth were such good friends.

As we got older, I lost a little of the awestruck feelings I had towards Monica. We butted heads more than a few times, and when my beloved aunt died, Monica made fun of me for crying in the middle of school.

“You miss your aunt, don’t you,” Monica said after class, bumping her hip into mine with more force than necessary. For someone so small, she was actually quite strong.

“Yes.” I sniffled. “She was my best friend.”

“Well, we’re in ninth grade now,” Monica said, raking a hand through her pale blonde hair. “I mean, my grandparents both died last year. We’re getting older, people are starting to die off.”

“That’s not very nice,” I said, swallowing hard. A weird feeling was starting to bloom in my chest and I wasn’t sure I liked it.

“Well, yeah, I just mean, I’m sorry it happened,” Monica said. “It still hurt when my grandfather died, even though he had cancer. Like, we all saw it coming…but it still sucked.”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “It hurts a lot.”

Monica’s eyes flashed mischievously. “I know a way you can talk to her,” she said, smiling. “Wanna come over?”

“What?” My heart skipped a beat in my chest. “What are you talking about?”

Monica smiled – a secret, cool little smile. “Just come to my house after school,” she said. “It’s fun, you’ll like it.”

I frowned. “I don’t know,” I said. “I should probably get home – I got extra homework in biology to make up for that test.”

Monica waved her hand through the air. “Forget biology, it’s easy,” she said. “Look, I’ll even help you with your work, okay?”

“What about Elizabeth?”

Monica laughed. “If your brother has soccer practice after school, Elizabeth won’t budge,” she said. “She’s got a huge crush on him.”

“Really?” I squinted. “On Steven?”

“Yeah,” Monica replied. She laughed. “Don’t tell her, she’ll kill me,” she said. “Or fine, tell her and watch her flip out. She’s so sensitive about it, it’s like the first time she’s ever liked a guy.”

I swallowed. “Steven’s not allowed to date yet,” I said. “Mother wouldn’t let him.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Monica said. She laughed again. “Elizabeth doesn’t care about that – she’s terrified of guys,” she said, snickering. “The one time Steven spoke to her, she turned bright red. So, come on, over to my place,” she added, jerking her head to the side. “And then we can talk to your aunt.”

I had a bad feeling about whatever it was that Monica was about to do, but I couldn’t deny that I was curious, too. I called Mother and told her I’d be a little bit late, and then followed Monica across town and into her parents’ rambling farmhouse.

“This is it,” Monica said triumphantly, pulling out a rectangular box and dumping it on my lap. “Come on, open it!”

I frowned. The box had a picture of a board with letters, numbers, and a sun and moon on it. “Oh-eye-ja? What is that?”

“Ouija,” Monica said. She shrugged. “I don’t know, I found it in the attic. But it works, look.” She plucked the box back from my hands and opened it on her bed. Pulling out a small plastic triangle, she held it in the air. “We put our fingers on this,” she said, demonstrating. “And close our eyes and then we can talk to spirits.”
“This doesn’t seem right,” I said slowly. “I…I don’t know, Monica. I don’t know that I want to do this.”

By now, I was so frightened that my curiosity had almost completely ebbed away.

“Come on, it’s totally harmless,” Monica said. “We’ll go up to the attic, Jamie and Brian won’t bother us there.”

So, I did what Monica wanted. I followed her into the attic, sat down, and put my hands on that horrible thing.

And after that, my life was never the same.

---

At first, after the séance, I was sure that the problem was with me. I couldn’t even remember what happened – the last thing I remembered was climbing up the rickety attic stairs behind Monica’s slim figure. And Monica wouldn’t talk to me – not that I wanted her to. I’d apparently run out of her house, screaming and crying and hysterical. And then my parents had called her parents, and Mother told me that I was forbidden to see Monica from that point forward.

That’s when the dreams started. Strange, scary, foreign dreams – dreams of a far-away place and people with funny clothes and even stranger accents. In my dreams, I was a young girl, in the time of the Puritans. And everyone called me Prudence.

“That’s not my name,” I remember saying once in a dream. “My name is Andrea.”

A strange, beautiful woman with black hair and bright blue eyes seemed to hate me. She followed me around from place to place, threatening me whenever I tried to do something good.

I expected the dreams to stop, but they never did. And a year later, things started happening around town. Monica went missing, then Elizabeth. I couldn’t explain it: during the day, I felt awake. But at night I’d wake up in bed and shake and shiver, unable to believe the things I’d said and done. I felt myself transforming completely into another girl, a monster, who pushed others around and used my religious beliefs for evil.

“I’m proud of you, Andrea,” Mother had said one night. “If this keeps up, you might think about taking orders and becoming a nun.”

That wasn’t what I wanted, but somehow, I couldn’t even express that.

And now, I only had the vaguest idea of what to do. I’d woken up at the edge of the woods, wearing dirty and torn clothing, bleeding and confused. And Elizabeth and Monica had been right there, staring at me. Elizabeth had looked horrified – like she was staring into the face of a ghost. But Monica had that same satisfied smirk, the smirk I’d come to hate.

“There’s no time, Andrea,” Monica said. “We have to go. Now.”

I was so weak that I could barely walk. Monica led me inside, up the stairs to her bedroom. Elizabeth brought steaming mugs of tea and a grilled cheese sandwich that I devoured in a matter of seconds. They stared at me, cautiously, for what seemed like a long time.

“Andrea, how much do you remember?” Elizabeth asked softly.

“I was in the woods for years…” I trailed off, shaking with fear. “A man and a woman kept me there.” I shuddered again, spilling hot tea from the mug and over my fingers. It burned, but I could barely feel the pain. “They hurt me,” I said softly. “And they called me Prudence.”

“You were possessed, but the spirit inside of you is sleeping now,” Elizabeth said quickly. She took the cup of tea back and set it down on the floor. “And we have to defeat those people – the witches. And you have to help us.”

Tears came to my eyes and I shook my head. “I don’t know what to do,” I said quickly. “I…I can barely remember anything!”

Monica and Elizabeth glanced at each other. “Andrea…that was years ago,” Elizabeth said softly. “A lot has changed since then. I’ve been away for years, but Monica was there the whole time.”

“I kept you safe,” Monica said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was the reason you never died, Andrea.”

“Why did they do that?”
“Because they’re evil,” Monica said. “And we have to attack them – soon, or else it’s gonna be too late.” She tossed her hair impatiently and suddenly I noticed she looked different, older. “I swear, it’ll be okay, Andrea. But we can’t do it without you.”

“Please,” Elizabeth added. “We really need your help.”

“It’s your fault this happened,” I said, staring accusingly at Monica. “If you’d never made me do that stupid séance, I never would’ve been possessed!”

“And I’m really sorry about that,” Monica said in a pleading sort of voice. “I really am, Andrea, I feel terrible. But we have to move on, okay? Or else you’re gonna spend the rest of your life trapped in the woods.”

“I’m still angry with you,” I said bitterly. “But…I think I’m angrier with them, the witches who kept me trapped.”

Monica nodded. “I’m angry with them, too,” she said. “They lied to me, for years. They lied to Elizabeth, too.”

“What can we do?”

Monica sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I’ll think of something,” she said, reaching for a pen and pad of paper. “We’re going to have to go back and act like everything is okay, like we want to stay there. Catch them off guard. And then we can attack them, maybe even using the soul of Prudence.”

My jaw dropped. “No way,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not letting that…that thing in my body again!”

“Okay, well, we’ll come back to that idea,” Monica said with a shrug.

“No,” I said. “No way, it has to be something else.”

Monica flopped down on her bed and scribbled at the pad, pursing her lips.

“I’m sorry about this,” Elizabeth said softly. “I know it can’t be easy for you.”

I sighed. “I…I just wish I could remember more,” I said. “The last thing I remember is high school.”

Elizabeth looked guilty. “Do you remember what happened to your leg?”

I frowned. “No. Should I?”

Elizabeth pointed to my knee. “You…you broke your leg, years ago,” she said. “That was um, back…well, back when we sorta found out about Prudence.”

Reaching down, I rubbed my leg. A faint pain shot through my body and I winced.

“Yeah,” Elizabeth said, looking guilty. “Sorry about that.”

I tried to smile. “It’s okay. Not much I can do about it now.”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth said. The relief in her voice was obvious. “How do you feel, I mean, being home?”

I bit my lip. “I want to see my family,” I said softly. “I want to see my mother, and Steven.” I frowned as a sudden memory popped into my head. “You’re with Steven, aren’t you?”

Elizabeth made a face. “I don’t know.”
“She was,” Monica said, glancing over from the bed. “But something happened. They broke up.”

“You should try to make things right,” I said, reaching over and touching Elizabeth’s wrist. “I know you two liked each other a lot. Why not try to make up? I’m sure whatever it is that happened can be fixed.”

Elizabeth gave me an odd look. “I don’t know,” she said. She frowned. “I…Andrea, sorry, I just don’t get it. This sounds really weird coming from you.”

“Why?”

Elizabeth began gnawing on her lip, a habit I recognized from our high school years. “Because…I don’t know,” she said, looking to Monica for evident help. “Maybe she can explain better than I can.”

“Elizabeth’s confused because you had a thing for your own brother,” Monica said calmly, not looking up from the pad she was scribbling on. “You know, you do remember that, don’t you?”

“It was after the spirit possessed me,” I said softly. “I never meant to do anything like that, Elizabeth. I swear – I don’t know, I couldn’t control my own body!”

Elizabeth stared at me for a long time, until tears came to her eyes. She pulled me into a hug and squeezed me with surprising strength. By the time I pulled free, Elizabeth was sobbing.

“I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth said, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. “Andrea, god, I feel like such an idiot. I never would have guessed that.” She shook her head bitterly. “I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

“That spirit wanted me to make you – and everyone else in Jaffrey – very unhappy,” I said. I swallowed hard. A lump had started to form in my throat and I felt dangerously close to crying myself. “And keeping you from Steven was the only way to do that – at least, the only way that I could think of at the time.”

Elizabeth was silent. I wrapped my arms around myself and shuddered, almost unable to believe that I’d been such an awful person. I didn’t want to believe it – but no matter how much I tried to blame everything on the evil spirit of Prudence, it was still me. I’d done everything. Sure, I hadn’t been able to control myself at the time.

But it had still been my body. My voice – my movements.

And now, no matter how much I never wanted to go back to that evil in the woods, I knew I’d have to make things right.

“I want to help you,” I said, reaching out and taking Elizabeth’s hands. She shrank back and shook her head.

“If it’s too dangerous, you could—“

“Elizabeth,” Monica snapped. “She has to help us, and we know that, don’t we?” She looked at me. “Andrea, I know you want to make things right. And this is how you do it.” With a triumphant look on her face, she held up the notepad. I frowned – it was covered with weird squiggles and lines that I felt like I should recognize…but I didn’t.

“I don’t get it,” I said slowly. “What is that?”

“Don’t worry about it for now,” Monica said. “I’m just working on a plan, that’s all.”

“I feel so bad,” Elizabeth said, shaking her head. She sighed. “They really manipulated all of us.”

“Yes,” Monica said. There was a new edge in her voice, but she was back to hunching over her scribbles. “They did. Even me,” she added.

“I’m sorry to ask this,” I said. “But why did the two of you join? Why would you want to link up with such evil?” I shuddered as a cold chill ran through my body. “Why?”

Elizabeth glanced at Monica.

“They spirited me away,” Monica said. “And told me that they needed my help.” She set the notepad down on the floor and flopped onto her back, staring up at the ceiling as she spoke. “And I believed them. I thought they were right – everything made sense, they were able to manipulate things just as they wanted.”

“But what was the real reason? I’m still confused,” I said, feeling slow. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Monica shrugged. “I guess it was because I was with you when Prudence stole into your body,” she said. “Remember? That séance?”

“God, I wish I didn’t,” I said, burying my face in my hands. “I don’t like thinking about that.”

Monica laughed, but there was no humor in her voice. “Andrea, I hate to say this – but you have to be strong. That’s the only way we’re going to defeat this. You’re going to have to think about things that are a hell of a lot more unpleasant than that stupid séance.”

I shivered again.

“You can do it,” Elizabeth said encouragingly. “I promise you can, Andrea.” She looked into my eyes and I saw strength there that I’d never noticed before. “That’s the one good thing about all of this.”

“What?”

Elizabeth shrugged self-consciously. “Just that I learned things about myself that I probably never would’ve discovered.” She gave me a guilty look. “And I completely lost my appetite for love spells.”

“Love spells?” I couldn’t stop my eyebrows from shooting up like rockets. “What?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Monica said darkly. “Just trust Elizabeth, okay?” She sat up and turned to me. “Look, Andrea, I know we haven’t been the closest friends. But we have to work together now.”

“I know,” I said nervously.

“And I know you’re not my biggest fan – for good reason,” Monica added. “But we have to be a team, okay? You have to trust me, completely. If I tell you to do something, you have to do it.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why you? Why not Elizabeth?”

“Because I’m stronger,” Monica said. She tossed her blonde hair. “Nothing meant by that, but I’ve been working with them for the longest.”

“It’s true,” Elizabeth said gently. “You have to listen to Monica, okay? Even if she tells you to do something that you’re afraid of.”

“I really don’t like the sound of this,” I said softly. “Why can’t we…I don’t know, just never go back? What’s going to happen?”

Monica climbed off the bed and walked slowly towards me. Her face was fixed with a serious expression and she came closer and closer until I was trembling nervously. Monica sat down, lowering herself down on her haunches. She put her hands on my shoulders and gripped hard.

“Close your eyes,” Monica said. “Close your eyes and concentrate on what I’m about to show you.”

Obediently, I closed my eyes. Monica’s grip tightened and she leaned in so close I could smell her vaguely powdery scent. Suddenly, everything went back. I shrieked and screamed with fear, trying to pull away from Monica as the scent of soot and gunpowder filled my nose.

Panic filed my body. I couldn’t move – something was pinning me to the wall. Even breathing was a struggle. The air was filled with smoke and my lungs burned and ached.

“Help!” I screamed. “Somebody, help me!”

That’s when I saw the fire. A massive blaze – burning so brightly that it stung my eyes. Flames licked high into the air, filling the charcoal-black night with a rage of blinding smoke.

“Help!” I screamed again, twisting and kicking at my invisible bonds.

Suddenly, whatever was holding me down disappeared and I collapsed, hitting the ground hard with my hands and my knees. The ground was rough gravel, cutting my palms and kneecaps through the thin material of my jeans. As quickly as I could, I scrambled to my feet and looked around me.

Everything was on fire. I screamed again when I realized where I stood – right in the middle of Jaffrey. Buildings turned to ash and soot before my eyes and I gasped in horror as windows exploded, blowing glass through the air like painful darts.

“Somebody, help me!” I screamed. “Monica! Elizabeth! Where are you?”

An evil laughter filled the air. The sound of it chilled me to the core. Despite the heat of the flames, I suddenly felt like I’d fallen into a special kind of arctic hell.

This is Hell, I realized, looking around. I’m in Hell.

All of my fears and terrors from childhood came rushing back, as powerful as a waterfall in my brain. I knew that no matter what happened, I would be here forever. Alone, trapped in the burning ruins of my once-beloved home.

“Please,” I whimpered. “Please, let me go. Please let me die.”

And just like that, it was gone. I was sitting on the floor of Monica’s bedroom, with my legs crossed under my body. Monica was leaning over my body, her hands still gripping my shoulders. I glanced around in a panic. Elizabeth was sitting there, looking at me with obvious concern in her eyes. And Monica had a fearful, intense look on her pointed features that I never could have imagined.

“What was that,” I whispered in a strangled cry. “What happened?”

“That was Jaffrey,” Monica said in a cold voice. “That was Jaffrey, if the coven is allowed to do what they will.”

“That’s what we have to stop,” Elizabeth added. To Monica, she said: “You’re scaring her! Take your hands off!”

The smell of soot and cinders still filled my nostrils and my heart was racing in my chest as Monica took her hands away.
“Sorry,” Monica said. She didn’t sound sorry. “But I wanted you to know. That’s what we’re up against.”

The fear and terror came rushing back to my heart and tears filled my eyes. “There’s no way we can defeat them,” I said, sniffling and shaking my head. “Don’t you understand? They’re too strong!”

“We have to try,” Monica said grimly. “That’s all we can do.”

“Why, though? Why would they want that?” I sniffled again. “I thought…I thought they were all about nature, I thought they wanted to preserve life, not destroy it.”

“They lied,” Monica said. She shook her head grimly. “They’re sick of living in hiding, Andrea. And the spirit of Prudence is powerful enough to let them take over the world. They want to control everything, they want to rule.”

“It’s scary,” I said softly. “I’m frightened.”

“Me, too,” Elizabeth said, looking sharply at Monica. “But this is our only chance.”

“How are we going to do it?”

“You’re going to let Prudence inside of your soul once again,” Monica said. “She’s the only thing that can help us.”
Gasping in horror, I staggered to my feet and looked down at Monica with my mouth hanging open.

“No! It’s too horrible,” I said. “I won’t let that happen!”

“You have to, Andrea,” Elizabeth said gently. “Monica’s strong enough to keep her in check.”

The tears in my eyes finally began streaming down my face as I vehemently shook my head. “No,” I said again. “I’m not doing that. I’m not letting her back in my body.”

“Andrea, you have to,” Monica said sternly. Elizabeth shot her a look but she didn’t back down. “I swear, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

“How can you promise that?” I sniffled. “How? She was inside of me for years,” I added, shaking my head. “I’m not going back to that! I’m not letting her ruin my life!”

Monica took my hand. “Andrea, if we can defeat the coven, we’ll release her spirit. That’s what she wants,” Monica said. “That’s what we’re going to promise her.”

“And what if…” I couldn’t quite bring myself to say ‘lose.’

“What if we can’t defeat them?” Monica raised an eyebrow. “Then we’re fucked,” she said blankly, shrugging. “We’re going to die anyway. We might as well die trying.”

I shuddered. I felt so tired – like I’d been awake for years with no rest. Then I remembered I had been awake for years, with little rest, and too much pain to think about.

“Please,” Monica said, more gently than before. “Andrea, I promise. We can do this together, okay?”

Elizabeth and Monica stared at me, waiting for an answer.

With a shaky exhale, I nodded my head. “Okay,” I said softly. “We can try.”

---

As soon as I said yes, I had to admit that I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Monica and Elizabeth told me to lie down and relax – Monica changed the sheets on her bed, and Elizabeth went downstairs to fix something to eat. I didn’t think I could sleep – the vision of burning Jaffrey was still fresh in my mind – but shockingly, as soon as I closed my eyes, I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up, it was dark outside. Monica and Elizabeth were gone – I heard their voices downstairs, quietly conspiring. It was almost funny that I felt like such an outsider. We were adults now, in our twenties. But something still made the dynamic of our threesome feel like high school all over again.

Except I never even had the chance to finish high school, I thought as I hauled myself out of bed. Monica had left a change of clothes for me and I pulled them on, wrapping myself tightly in a soft sweater before heading downstairs.

Monica and Elizabeth were sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over as they talked. Monica’s head snapped up right away as soon as she saw me.

“Hey,” Monica said in a guarded tone. “What’s up?”

“Sorry I slept for so long,” I said, yawning and rubbing my eyes.

“Here, have some pasta,” Elizabeth said. She handed me a bowl of spaghetti and red sauce, with parmesan on top. She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry it’s not more. Monica’s parents haven’t been here in ages, this was the only stuff in the pantry.”

“Where are they?”

Monica shrugged. “Who knows?”

I frowned.

“So the plan is to go back tomorrow,” Monica said. “We’ll all go together, and tell them that Elizabeth is going to offer herself up.”

“As the next you, basically,” Elizabeth said to me, frowning in distaste.

“Won’t that hurt you?”

Elizabeth shrugged.

“She should be strong enough to fight it off, whatever they do,” Monica said calmly.

“Can I…can I see my family? Before we go?”

Monica and Elizabeth exchanged a dark look.

“I don’t know,” Elizabeth said. “It might be too dangerous.”

“Too dangerous? Why?”

Elizabeth bit her lip. “Look, Andrea…I hate to say this,” she said quietly. “But I don’t know what your family would do if they saw you.”

“Why?” I frowned. “Because I’ve been gone for so long?”

“Not exactly.” Elizabeth cleared her throat. Monica looked like she was about to speak but Elizabeth held up her hand. “Let me do this one,” she said to Monica. “So…um, there were some side effects of your being taken and held for so long.”

“They think I’m dead,” I said flatly.

Elizabeth winced. “More than that,” she said. “Um, they’ve…sort of forgotten about you.”

Tears came rushing to my eyes and I blinked. “Forgot about me?”

“It’s not like that,” Elizabeth said quickly.

“It’s like you never existed,” Monica said. She looked at me. “You’d be a stranger to them.”

“And what if we win? What if I come back, and my family still doesn’t remember me?” A single tear rolled down my cheek. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t think that will happen,” Elizabeth said. “If we can break the spells – all of them,” she added sternly, glancing at Monica. “Everything should be back to normal.”

“Can’t I at least see my house? Can’t I look through the windows?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Not yet,” she said. “After we get back, you can go home.”

I sank into a chair, the pasta in front of me long forgotten.

“You should really eat something,” Elizabeth said encouragingly. “You need to keep your strength up.”

I felt like rolling my eyes. I felt like grabbing the bowl of pasta and throwing it into the wall. I felt like doing anything other than listening to Elizabeth and Monica for another second.

Still, I dipped my fork and spoon into the pasta bowl and scooped some out, twining it around my fork and taking a bite. It was getting cold, but it wasn’t bad, and I forced myself to eat the whole bowl.

“Come on,” Monica said. “We’re going outside.”

“What for?” I frowned. “You said we’re not leaving until tomorrow.”

“We’re not leaving yet,” Monica said. “Just come on, follow me.”

Confused, I followed Monica and Elizabeth outside, to the edge of the woods behind Monica’s house. Monica took a knife with a funny-looking blade and held it out, as if offering it to the woods.

“Mother earth, we pray for your guidance,” Monica said in a low voice. She dipped and got down to her knees, kneeling on the wet ground and bowing her head. After a moment, Elizabeth did the same.

I stood there, frowning. It felt sacrilegious – like I was betraying my own Christian beliefs. But something inside of me knew that this was bigger now than anything I’d ever experienced.

“Mother earth,” I whispered, getting to my knees and bowing my head to the ground. “Please protect me. Please allow us to return safely home.”

Monica reached out and joined hands with Elizabeth me and, just lightly enough for me to feel the pressure of her fingers against mine.

This is it, I thought as I closed my eyes and listened to Monica’s low, toneless voice. This is the end.

Chapter Nine

Elizabeth

I didn’t sleep that night. Despite Monica wanting to wait for us to get our strength, I was feeling weaker than ever by the time the morning rolled around. Andrea and Monica were awake and downstairs by the time I climbed out of bed. Monica was making breakfast for us – “provisions,” she called it – and I watched dully as she wrapped three sandwiches in wax paper and tucked them inside a bag.

“It could take a long time to find the coven,” Monica told Andrea. “You’re not used to looking for it, but it only comes to those with the power.”

“I don’t have the power,” Andrea said, frowning.

Monica shrugged. “You’re going to have to try,” she said, shaking her head. “Just do what I do, okay?”

Andrea nodded, but her frown was deeper than ever.

We dressed in jeans and thick boots and sweaters, in a feeble attempt to ward off the spring chill in the air. As we left, I turned around and looked at Monica’s house for what I thought might be the last time. Please let us come home, I thought, glancing at Monica and Andrea. Please, please let us survive this.

As we walked into the woods, we stayed silent. Monica led the way with her eyes closed, trying to sense the magic of Henrik, Ligeia, and the other witches. And what of them, I wondered. Would they fight us, too? Or would they be relieved to be free of Henrik and Ligeia’s spellcraft?

“Ouch,” Andrea whined. “My feet are killing me.”

Monica turned around and held her finger up to her mouth. “Be quiet,” she hissed. “I can’t concentrate if you keep talking.”

Andrea pouted, but she shut up.

We walked on in silence. The only thing I could hear was the crunch of leaves beneath my feet. It’s strangely peaceful here, I thought, frowning at the idea. It was funny – in all the years I’d been involved with the coven, I’d never thought of it as anything even close to peaceful.

But maybe that was just because everything else had always been so turbulent.

We walked on, and on, and on. Eventually, Monica stopped and took out the sandwiches, passing them around. I was starting to get nervous – what if Andrea had been right, what if we’d never be able to find what we were looking for?
“We’re close,” Monica said, closing her eyes and leaning against the trunk of a tree. “I can feel it, can’t you?”

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine that I was the wind in the air, the tiny hairs on my exposed arms, the shining sun overhead. Sure enough, there was a familiar warmth in the air. The buds on the trees were larger and the sun seemed closer than it had been we’d left.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “We’re almost there.”

“I can’t do this,” Andrea said in a panicked voice, dropping the rest of her sandwich on the ground. “I can’t do it!”

Monica grabbed Andrea by the shoulders and shook her. “You have to,” she said, glaring fiercely. “You have to do this!”
Andrea shook her head and cried out loudly in fear. The sound of Monica’s hand smacking her across the face echoed through the trees. Andrea gasped and held her face in shock, staring at Monica with her eyes wide.
“Sorry,” Monica said quietly. “But you can’t leave, Andrea. Remember the flames.”

Andrea shuddered and shivered. After a few seconds, she nodded. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Let’s go.”

Monica led the way. The woods were thinning and soon, we emerged at the familiar magical clearing. Ligeia was standing there, smiling coldly.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” she said, looking right at me. “For a moment, I did not think you would honor your promise.” She walked closer, inspecting Andrea closely. “Ah, the vessel,” she said. “You have brought her.”

I cleared my throat and stepped forward. “Ligeia, it’s going to be me. I’ll be the next protector of the soul of Prudence.”

Ligeia nodded approvingly. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, child,” she said. “Come, all three of you.”

My legs felt as heavy as lead as I walked forward. Ligeia led us through the clearing, past her series of huts, and into a small wooded area. She took my hands and led me to a tree. I could feel the soul of Prudence – still asleep, but vigilant all the same. Her heartbeat resonated in my chest and I shuddered, wondering if I’d ever be able to escape her.

Henrik appeared from behind a tree and smiled. “Ah, you have returned,” he said. “And Monica, child, you have come as well. I thought you missed your own world?”

Monica smiled. “I missed the coven,” she said, lying through her teeth. “I’ve found the real world is no longer to my liking.”

“I see,” Henrik said. He smiled and I shuddered at the cold gleam in his eyes. “Well, child, perhaps that will change very soon, as you know.”

“What is he talking about,” Andrea asked.

Everyone ignored her.

“I’m ready,” I said nervously.

Ligeia stepped closer and stripped my sweater. I shivered even though the air was no longer cold. Ligeia took her athame from her robes and held it to my chest, pointing the tip at my heart. I shuddered as the tip of the knife pierced my skin. It hurt, but I tried not to cry out as blood dripped down my chest, soaking my bra and stomach.

“Prudence Arrowsmith,” Ligeia called. “You will inhabit this woman.”

I closed my eyes, pretending to lean into the ritual. But I wasn’t going to let that bitch inside of me. Instead, I willed the protection of the earth, of the sun, of the moon and the sky. Keep me safe and whole, I prayed silently. Keep me free of Prudence.

Ligeia smiled. “It is complete, child,” she said.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” I said, looking down. “I am honored you have chosen me.”

“Yes, child, you have done very well,” Ligeia said.

I could barely keep from grinning in relief. You stupid witch, I thought, biting the inside of my cheeks so I wouldn’t smile. It didn’t work!

I glanced at Monica. She nodded. This is it, I thought as I stepped back. May the earth be on our side.

“I’m sorry, Andrea,” Monica said. Andrea barely had time to react as Monica grabbed her and threw her to the ground. Ligeia turned and spun in horror, crying out as Monica grabbed the athame from her hands and sliced Andrea across the chest.
“You will inhabit this woman!” Monica screamed. A loud wind blew through the woods and the sky darkened as a rush of purple smoke disappeared inside Andrea’s chest. Her eyes glowed bright for a second, then faded.

“What is the meaning of this?” Ligeia shrieked. “Henrik! Henrik! Something’s happening!”

“Shut up,” Monica growled. She darted towards Ligeia, clutching the athame. Ligeia’s blue eyes began to glow and Monica flew backwards through the air, her small body smacking against a tree and collapsing to the ground. She didn’t lose her grip on the athame, even as Ligeia fell upon her.

I grabbed Andrea’s arm. “Fight,” I growled to her face before shoving her towards Ligeia and Monica. The two women tussled, rolling on the ground, biting and scratching and fighting like cats. Monica was shrieking at the top of her lungs, thrashing under Ligeia’s grasp.

Ligeia wrestled the knife away and made a plunge towards Monica’s body, but Monica rolled out of the way. I ran towards them and grabbed Ligeia, trying to pull her away from Monica. Ligeia growled and spat, cursing under her breath. A sharp pain filled my body from head to toe but I tried to push past it, willing myself to move past the agony.

Ligeia’s face was twisted with anger and rage as she wrestled out of my grip, spitting and yowling. I tried to push her backwards but she was too strong, and I cried out in pain as she shoved me hard into the ground.
“Traitor,” Ligeia hissed. She raised the athame high in the air and I gasped and screamed as she plunged it downwards, into my chest.

For a moment, I couldn’t move. I’m dying, I thought as I looked down, expecting to see a torrent of blood gushing from my chest. Instead, Ligeia had vanished. I rolled over and got to my feet, brushing my hands off and looking around in a wild panic.

Andrea had Ligeia pinned to a tree.
“Sister,” she hissed in a strange voice, almost like a whisper. “The time has come for me to destroy you.”

For the first time, I saw fear spread across Ligeia’s face.

“You have come to kill me,” Ligeia said, narrowing her steely blue eyes. “You have always wanted to kill me.”

“And you have always wanted what was beyond your reach,” Andrea growled. She raised her hands to Ligeia’s throat and began to choke her. Ligeia was spitting and cursing under her breath in a strange language. Her face turned purple and blue as Andrea squeezed her hands around her neck.

Henrik came barreling into the small clearing, shaking with rage and anger. “You!” Henrik screamed, running towards me. “What have you done, child?” He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me close, leering into my face angrily. “What have you wrought?”

“Let me go!” I shrieked. “You’re hurting me!”

“I’m going to kill you,” Henrik growled. “You and all of these bitches! What were you thinking!”

Henrik pushed me back to the ground, kicking me hard in the ribs. I cried out as pain shot through my body. Henrik stood over me, looking down and glaring. Suddenly I felt a burning sensation all over my skin, like I was being lit on fire. The sensation changed from irritating to pure agony and soon I was screaming and clutching at myself, desperate for anything to make the pain stop.

Please, please, I prayed silently. Please don’t let me die. Please let Andrea win, let her kill them both for all I care!

The pain intensified yet again and I yowled, sobbing uncontrollably as the pain paralyzed my whole frame.

“Wench,” Henrik growled.

“No!” I shrieked. “No!”

Just as I was ready to give up, to surrender myself to the pain, it vanished. I lay there, dazed.

“Elizabeth!” Andrea was shrieking my name. “Elizabeth, get up!”

I was still breathing hard, choking and coughing on the pain. Still, I managed to roll over and haul myself into a sitting position, moaning as the air rushed back into my lungs.

Henrik was lying on the ground, Ligeia’s athame sticking out of his chest. Andrea was staring down at him. I could still sense Prudence inside of her, but Andrea looked calm and collected.

Monica was a few feet away, binding Ligeia with leather cords.

“Give me that,” she said, jerking her head towards the athame handle sticking from Henrik’s chest. “We have to work quickly.”

My legs were as weak as jelly as I stepped forward and grabbed the athame, pulling it out of the gaping wound. Henrik’s eyes were still open but I could feel the life leaving him. The air was filled with a sour, musty smell as I passed the knife to Monica.

Monica stared at Ligeia for a long time before stabbing her directly in the chest. She grunted, moving the knife down, until I heard the crack of ribs.

“Help me,” Monica grunted. “I can’t do this on my own.”

Gritting my teeth, I stepped behind Monica and wrapped my arms around hers, gripping the knife under her hands and pulling it down. For a moment, the wound was a glistening slit of pink organs. Then the sides collapsed, and guts spilled from Ligeia’s body, as rank and foul as that of a freshly-shot deer.

“We have to build a fire,” Monica said, looking over her shoulder at Henrik. “He’s not dead yet.”

I shuddered. “I’ll do it,” I said. “Just keep watch.”

Glancing down, I almost shrieked. My clothes were soaked and stained with blood – and the wound on my chest was still gushing. I touched it and winced in pain, wiping my hands on my jeans. It didn’t matter – my jeans were covered in blood, too.

With Andrea’s help, we gathered enough kindling and sticks for a fire. Monica tossed a lighter from her pocket and I caught it, gently blowing on the wood until a thick grey column of smoke was rising to the heavens.
“Help me,” Monica grunted. She was kneeling over Henrik once again, sawing at his chest with the athame. The sight was enough to make me sick. Almost over, I thought as I forced myself to walk closer and kneel by the side of the nearly-dead man.

Using Ligeia’s athame, Monica and I cut Henrik’s heart from his body and tossed it on the fire. It smoldered and stunk of death, rot, and decay. But the flames were more powerful than the heart of an old warlock, and soon the heart was nothing but ashes.

“Andrea, watch the fire,” Monica said. Andrea was sitting there, frozen. She looked horrified.

“Andrea,” Monica snapped. “Listen!” She snapped her fingers in the air. “Watch the fire, okay?”

Andrea managed a nod of her head. I walked to Ligeia and grabbed her body. For such an old, frail woman, she was almost heavy and I winced as I carried her bleeding corpse to the flames. Setting her down on the ground, Monica and I cut out her heart and held it over the greedy flames.

“It’s over,” Monica said softly as she lowered the heart into the fire. “It’s finally over.”

Andrea wrapped her arms around her legs and began to shake. She seemed practically catatonic as Monica and I hauled the bodies of Henrik and Ligeia to the flames and burned them, filling the sky with an acrid smoke that stung my nose and mouth.

Monica held the athame in the flames until the tip was red-hot. She then laid it in the grass, wiping both sides clean of blood and grime.

“Andrea, come here,” Monica said. “We’re going to release the spirit of Prudence.”

Andrea got up and walked closer. She looked shell-shocked, horrified.

“I killed someone,” Andrea whispered.

“No,” Monica said sharply. “You didn’t kill anyone, you understand? It was Prudence,” she added. “Prudence is the only person strong enough to take Ligeia down. You did it,” she added. “I’m very proud of you.”

Andrea nodded, but she looked no less unhappy than she had before. At a gesture from Monica, she lay down on the grass and closed her eyes. Monica held the athame over her chest, pointed at her heart.

“I command the spirit of Prudence Arrowsmith to the afterlife,” Monica said solemnly, scratching the surface of Andrea’s skin with the blade of the knife. Andrea winced and screwed up her face, but didn’t try to push Monica away.

Beneath my feet, the ground began to rumble and shake. Terrified, I looked around. The trees were whipping and waving in the breeze, and a sudden gust blew the flames out. The sky darkened to an inky hue, but there was no sight of the moon or stars.

“I command you to leave!” Monica shouted, straining to make her voice heard above the wind. “I command you to be free, to leave! You are done here, Prudence Arrowsmith!”

A loud rumbling sound filled the air and I trembled as the ground beneath me shook harder than before. Andrea’s eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out as a wisp of silvery smoke emerged from her chest and floated high into the air.

Monica threw the athame down on the ground and I watched as it bounced over the grass. In the sky above us, thunder rumbled and bellowed.

And then, just like that, it was over. The sky returned to a normal blue shade, the grass stopped shaking and waving, the ground stopped shaking and moving beneath my feet. Andrea sat up and opened her eyes.

“It’s gone,” she said softly, looking down at the superficial wound on her chest. “It’s really gone!”

“I told you,” Monica said.

A rush of pure energy zoomed through me and I let out a wild whoop before wrapping my arms around Monica and holding her.

“I can’t believe it!” I exclaimed loudly. “I can’t believe we did it!”

Andrea climbed to her feet, grinning broadly. She threw her arms around Monica and me, hugging us tightly and dancing from side to side.

“It’s really over,” Andrea said. Her eyes were glistening with tears, but she was still smiling.

I closed my eyes and sighed, pulling away from my friends. “It’s done.” I shook my head and looked down at the grass. For once, it didn’t look like a magical place – it looked like a perfectly normal patch of grass, just like the back yard at my parents’ house.

“Monica?” Andrea asked softly. “Why aren’t you happy?”

“I am happy,” Monica said slowly. But when I looked into her eyes, I saw nothing but sadness and regret.

“Don’t tell me you’re regretting this,” I said, putting my hand on her shoulder and squeezing. “After all this?”

Monica held my gaze for a long time before turning to Andrea. “Andrea, I really am sorry about everything that’s happened to you,” she said. “It’s all my fault. It never should’ve happened.”

Andrea looked perplexed. “It’s okay,” she said. “I mean, I get it. Kind of,” she added, wrinkling her nose.

My heart lurched to the side and I stared at Monica. “Monica, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

Monica hugged me tightly.

“Goodbye,” she whispered.

“What?” I pulled away, holding her at arm’s length. “No, this isn’t goodbye,” I said. “Don’t you get it? This is the beginning!”

Monica sighed softly. “Andrea, would you mind giving us a moment, please?”

Andrea looked confused, but she nodded and walked to the edge of the woods before lowering herself down and facing away.

“What’s going on?” My heart was thudding in my chest and I felt a stab of fear – real fear. My whole body was trembling from all of the stress and tension that we’d just undergone, and I couldn’t believe that now there was going to be something else to deal with, something new, something unexpected.

“I have to leave you now,” Monica said. She sighed. “I can’t leave this place. I’m bound here, Elizabeth.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I countered. “Of course you can leave! You’re not stuck here for the rest of your life! Henrik and Ligeia are gone!”

“I know. That’s why I have to stay.”

“I don’t get it,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t you want to come back? What about…what about David?” I asked timidly. “Don’t you want to live in the real world?”

Monica sighed. “What I want and what I have to do are two very different things,” she said quietly. “The coven needs a new leader. They need a witch who isn’t hungry for power, who doesn’t want to control the world. They need someone who espouses all the values we were originally taught.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said. “And besides, how do you know that you’ll stay like that?” I shook my head like a dog shaking itself dry. “Monica, please!”

“I don’t know that I’ll stay the way I am now,” Monica said softly. “But I have to try. I have to make sure nothing like this ever happens again.”

“If it’s because you feel guilty, don’t,” I said. “Don’t even start, okay? You have no reason to feel bad. We fixed everything.”
“Yes,” Monica said. “I do feel guilt. I feel guilt for involving you, and Andrea, and for allowing myself to be misled and treated like a child by Henrik and Ligeia for so long.”

“But that’s no reason to isolate yourself forever.” By now, I couldn’t stop my chin from trembling. My eyes filled with tears and I glanced to the sky, trying to blink them away as quickly as I could.

“Elizabeth, you don’t understand.” Monica looked sadly into my eyes. “This isn’t something I’m doing to punish myself. I’m doing it because I have to, you understand?”

I bit my lip as hot tears began to fall down my face. “I can’t do it without you,” I said, wiping my eyes. “The seven years you were gone…I could barely get up in the morning! I missed you so much it hurt! And David…David knows he won’t ever get over you,” I said, sniffling and shaking my head. “He told me, years ago.”

“David will be fine,” Monica said. “The spells are gone. I have no power in the real world now, Elizabeth, I can’t do anything now that would affect you, David, or anyone else.”

I couldn’t stop myself from throwing my arms around Monica and holding her tightly.

“You can’t go,” I whimpered into her neck. By now, I was full-on ugly crying. Tears and snot were leaking down my face and I knew I was soaking Monica’s sweater. But I didn’t care. I held her tightly and sobbed into her neck. Monica put an arm around me and awkwardly patted my back, but she didn’t speak.

“Elizabeth,” Monica said gently after I’d been sobbing for about ten minutes. “You have to go back. You have to take Andrea home.”

“I’m not leaving you,” I growled, pulling away and wiping my face on my own sweater. By now, the blood was starting to dry but I felt like someone had reached inside my chest and cut my heart out, thrown my body on the flames to turn to ash.

“You’ll always be my best friend,” Monica said. “Besides, you think I won’t miss you?”

I buried my face in my hands, unable to believe this was really happening.

“Elizabeth, I’m sorry,” Monica said. “But you have to understand where I’m coming from, you know? You have to know how important this is.” She shook her head defiantly. “We can’t let anything happen to Jaffrey like that, not ever again.” She shuddered. “I’ll die before I let that happen.”

“I just…” I trailed off. “You realize this makes all of what we did pointless, right? All I did was want you to come back,” I said, a sob slipping into my speech. “I missed you so much.”

“And you were fine without me,” Monica said. She sighed heavily. “And I need to apologize to you, too.”

“You don’t,” I said, wiping my eyes and refusing to look at her. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Monica laughed dryly. “Yes, I do,” she said. “I’m sorry for ever interfering in your life. I thought…” She trailed off, biting her lip. “I thought I knew better, I thought I could figure out what you wanted and give it to you, and that way you wouldn’t mind my being gone. And I’m sorry for all of that. And I’m sorry about Andrea,” she added, lowering her voice so there was no chance of Andrea overhearing.

“She’ll be fine,” I said, shaking my head. “You know her.”

“No, I’m apologizing to you,” Monica said firmly. “I’m sorry that I….you know, made you do that, years ago,” Monica said. “And I’m sorry you had to watch me do what I did.”

I shuddered. “God, I’d almost forgotten about that.”

Monica smiled sadly. “I hope there comes a day where you really do forget about that,” she said. “But not me. I’ll remember it forever, for the rest of my life.”

I knew that Monica was right – that I should be taking Andrea home, making sure she wasn’t cut too deeply. But I couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving my best friend in the woods forever.

“It’s okay, Elizabeth,” Monica said, as if reading my mind. “I’ll be fine.”

With a heavy heart I hugged her one last time. “I love you,” I said. “You’ll always be my best friend.”

Monica nodded. “I know,” she said. She smiled sadly. “I love you, too.”

Then she snapped her fingers and disappeared in a burst of smoke.

As I walked back to collect Andrea, I couldn’t stop the sobs from coming harder than ever before.

Chapter Ten

Elizabeth

“Where’s Monica?” Andrea frowned. “Isn’t she coming?”

“No,” I said. “She’s not.”

“Why not?” Andrea wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “This place gives me the creeps. I want to go home.”

“That’s what we’re doing,” I said. I led Andrea out of the magical land of the coven, out of the clearing, until we were in the thick, cold woods. Monica’s backpack had a strange weight on my shoulders, and when I slung it down and unzipped it, I was shocked to see a huge canteen full of water, six more sandwiches, and some odd-looking brown bread.

“How did we get that?” Andrea frowned. “That’s not from her house.”

I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. She’s still exactly the same naïve kid she used to be, I thought.

“You forget we just left an enchanted place,” I said. “But you’re right, I don’t know why she gave us so much.”

Andrea’s frown deepened. “So that was…real?”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “That was real.”

“I’m thirsty,” Andrea said. “Can I have the canteen?” When I passed it over, she unscrewed the top and peered inside. “Is this safe to drink?”

I shuddered, thinking of all the potions and horrors that Ligeia had fed me over the years. She’s gone, I thought. It still didn’t feel real to acknowledge.

“Yeah,” I said after a pause. “It’s safe.”

We walked on in silence, for hours. Darkness fell and I built a fire. We ate some of the sandwiches and curled up on the hard ground, close together for warmth. The night passed slowly – I slept in fitful stretches, awakened at the slightest sound or chirp. Andrea snoozed like a child – she even snored.

In the morning, I was tired and dehydrated and exhausted, but I made us push on. We trudged through the woods, searching for any sign of home.

“I think we’re lost,” Andrea kept saying, about once every fifteen minutes. “Why haven’t we gotten home yet? It didn’t take this long before.”

“I think Monica is showing us how far the coven truly is from home,” I said slowly. “I never thought about it before.”
“You mean, we only found it by…magic before?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. I shivered. “And I have a feeling we won’t ever be able to find it again.”

“Good,” Andrea said. “Not like I’d ever want to go back.” She stretched and yawned.

Another night began to fall. Like the previous night, I built a fire. But this night, I was so tired that I collapsed and slept like a rock all night long. In the morning, my body was stiff and achy. I groaned when I ran a hand through my greasy hair, knotting it into a bun at the back of my neck.

We walked for hours in silence. Occasionally, Andrea would ask about what happened to Monica, and I found myself unable to answer without starting to cry. Now that we’d left, I felt the absence of her presence so strongly that it was like a physical pain. Maybe it didn’t matter what guys we wanted when we were younger, I thought as I trudged on through the woods. Maybe Monica and I were soulmates. After all, we’re the ones who went through all of that stuff together.

I shuddered.

“What’s wrong?” Andrea asked.

For a moment, I debated telling her. But as much as Andrea had grown on me over the past few days, I found myself unable to put how I was feeling into words.

“Nothing,” I lied. “Look, the woods are thinning. We’re almost home.”

By the time we stumbled out of the woods and into Monica’s parents’ backyard, I was so tired that I could barely stand. But Andrea’s shriek brought me crashing down into the real world.

“Oh my god, the house!”

When I looked up, I gasped and covered my mouth with both hands. Monica’s parents’ house looked like it had been abandoned for hundreds of years. The white paint was flaking off the wood in giant chunks and the back porch was sagging and swaying as if giants had sat upon it. Some of the windows were broken, and the intact ones were missing their screens.

“What happened?” Andrea asked as we stepped forward in surprise. “Elizabeth, what happened?!” Her voice was tinged with panic and shock.

“I don’t know,” I said, running my hand over the old wood. “I…I really don’t.”

Andrea peered up at me, her round face split with a frown. “How long have we been gone?”

“I don’t think it’s that,” I said softly. “I think Monica must have done something…I don’t know what, to make sure everyone forgets about her.”

“I’m never going to forget her,” Andrea said.

I almost laughed. Yeah, I wouldn’t forget someone who stabbed me in the chest, either, I thought. Guilt seared my brain.

“I know,” I said, putting a hand on Andrea’s back. “I won’t forget her, either.”

“Can I go home now?”

“We both can.”

Andrea sighed. “Elizabeth, can you take me to see Steven? I don’t care if he doesn’t know me. I just…I really want to see him, I have some things to say.”

An image popped into my head of teenaged Andrea and Steven, flirting like lovers. It sent a lingering taste of disgust into my mouth, but I shook my head until it was gone. That’s all over, I thought, almost with a touch of sadness. Everything is different now.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll drive you.”

Andrea and I made plans to meet up later in the day. She wanted to go home and see her parents, and I was dying for a shower. When I let myself into my parents’ house, Mom was standing in the kitchen, just like old times.

“You were gone for a week! I thought you’d gone back home, but your car was still here. We had to move it, honey, I’m sorry,” Mom said in an apologetic tone. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I glanced down at my muddy, torn, and soiled clothes. “I went camping in the woods behind Monica’s house.”

“Who?”

“Um, never mind. Forget it, I’m going upstairs to shower.”

“You want anything to eat?”

My stomach rumbled and I nodded. “I can make it, though, it’s okay.”

Mom nodded. “How much longer do you think you’re going to be staying?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I’d be gone,” I said. “I just…I wanted some time alone.”

Mom nodded. “Okay, honey,” she said. “You go clean up, I’ll be down here.”

Taking a shower felt like a baptism. I stood under the spray for so long that the hot water turned icy and every inch of my skin was pruned. When I got out, I put on clean clothes and went downstairs with my wet hair hanging in my face. As strange as it sounded, I was almost nervous about seeing Steven again. What would it be like? I could hardly remember him before Monica’s spell.

And would he remember? Or would I have to lie, and just make something up? I couldn’t bear to tell him everything: the unbearable clinginess, the way I’d stayed because I had no choice.

And then there was Andrea. Would Steven remember her? Or would I spend hours comforting her instead?

“I’m going out for a while,” I told my mom as I made myself a sandwich. “I’ll probably be back before dinner, but don’t wait up for me.”

Mom made a face. “That’s fine,” she said. “Honey, you know it’s fine if you stay, but a little more regularity might be nice.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. I promise, it won’t happen again. I won’t just disappear for a week without letting you know.”

“It’s okay if you do, honey, just call next time.”

I forced a smile. “Trust me, there won’t be a next time.”

I could tell Mom didn’t believe me, but it didn’t matter. I was never going back to the coven. I was never going into the woods, to a magical place where the time passes so much differently.

Andrea showed up just as I was finished eating. We got in my car and she fumbled with the radio, changing the station every third seconds. She kept shaking her knee, and I knew she was nervous.

“I’m moving out of this place,” I said.

“Oh, Elizabeth, why?” Andrea made a face. “You and my brother should get back together. He always really liked you,” she added.

I sighed. “I know. It’s not about that.”

“Then, what?”

“We’ve been together for almost seven years,” I said softly, steering the car onto the highway and speeding up. “We’ve never had a chance to really see ourselves without each other, you know? And I don’t really like that idea.”

“Oh.”

“Maybe we can be friends or something in the future,” I said. “I just don’t have romantic feelings for your brother anymore.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry about me, though,” I said, desperately hoping to change the subject. “Are you okay? Are you nervous?”

Andrea shrugged. “Yeah,” she said. “My parents were happy to see me. But you told me Steven might not remember.”

I sighed with relief. “If your parents remembered you, that means he will, too.”

Andrea fell silent. The traffic was heavy and it took longer than expected to get to the house I used to call home. When I pulled into the driveway, my heart started to pound. Both Steven and Karen were home, judging by their cars, and I had no desire for a confrontation with either of them.

I owe this to Andrea, I told myself as I climbed out of the car and shut the door. She deserves this.

Even though I knew it was all over, I couldn’t shake the sense of guilt I felt about Andrea. Somehow, I knew that I’d feel it forever.

“I don’t know if I should knock or not,” I said awkwardly, looking at the front door. Just as Andrea was about to speak, the door swung open.

Steven stood there, looking both different and so familiar that it almost hurt to look at him. His dirty-blonde hair was pushed away from his forehead, and his dark blue eyes were concerned and soft.

“Hi,” I said shyly.

Andrea smiled. I watched as she stepped forward, tears glistening in her eyes. “Hi, Steven,” Andrea said.

Steven grinned. I stepped to the side and he wrapped his arms around Andrea, pulling her into a close hug. She kissed his cheek and I felt an old flicker of unease. That’s over now, I told myself firmly.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Steven said. “Wow, it’s great to see you.”

Andrea nodded, still smiling. A tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m sorry it’s been so long,” she said. “I’ve been away for a long time.”

Steven nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

The three of us stood there awkwardly for a minute. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and forced a smile.

“Can we come in?” I asked.

“Oh! Yeah,” Steven said. He stepped back awkwardly, glancing down. It was strange – I’d grown so used to his eyes on me all the time that it felt odd being there without his gaze fixed on me.

Andrea and I followed Steven inside. Thankfully, there was no sign of Karen.

“Karen’s out,” Steven said, looking up at me. I felt a flash of fear – was the spell still working after all? But then he swallowed and gave me an awkward look. “I think we should talk later,” Steven said, too quiet for Andrea to hear. “Is that okay?”

I nodded. “I’m…going upstairs for a while. I should get some more of my stuff together.”

“Yeah, okay.”

I left Steven and Andrea together in the kitchen while I walked up the familiar stairs and into the bedroom. Seeing my things strewn around the room was like a punch in the gut. The sheets had been washed, but it was much more cluttered than I knew Steven liked. I frowned at the sight of four empty beer bottles on the nightstand before sweeping them into the trash.

I pulled the rest of my clothes out of the dressed and folded them, setting them down at the edge of the bed. I’d barely been working for more than a few minutes when Steven’s head appeared in the doorway.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m making something to eat – Andrea’s really hungry – you want anything?”

I licked my lips and shook my head. “No,” I said. “I’m fine, thanks.”

Steven stepped forward. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said. He put a hand to his forehead and shook his head, looking confused. “I…I feel like I should apologize for something.”

“No, it’s fine,” I said. “You…you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Steven chuckled. “This is going to sound crazy, but I feel like I’ve been in some kind of really weird dream, and it’s been going on for years.” He frowned, creasing his tanned forehead. “I can barely remember anything. Karen told me we were engaged, but that she left.”

“She’s right,” I said. My heart sank – this was the exact conversation I’d been dreading.

“Why?”

“Steven, I…I just don’t think we’re right for each other,” I said slowly. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for us to get married.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Steven said. He shook his head again. “I feel like…I feel like I was bad to you, somehow, I just wish I could fucking remember,” he added. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“You’re not losing your mind,” I said. “Trust me, I promise.”

“Look, maybe you’re right about us not getting married, but I really want another chance,” Steven said. “Can I have that? Do I even deserve it?”

“I’m sorry,” I said awkwardly. I sat down at the edge of the bed, spilling my clothes onto the floor. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea. Maybe we can be friends, someday.”

Steven winced. “I didn’t know people actually said that in real life.”

I forced a dry laugh. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I really am. I just…we were together for so long, it’s scary. I know. But I really think we shouldn’t be together anymore.”

Steven sighed. “Okay,” he said. “You want help with this?” He gestured around. “Getting your stuff, I mean?”
“I’m fine, really,” I said. “You should go talk to your sister. She really missed you.”

Steven nodded. “I missed her,” he said. “At least, I feel like I did. Does that sound crazy?”

“Not comparatively.”
Steven held out his hand. “Shake?”

I shook my head and got up from the bed, leaning over and lightly hugging him with one arm.

“Good luck,” I said. “I really mean that.”

Steven nodded sadly. “I know,” he said. “I really do.”

Steven started down the stairs and I took one last look around our room. For the first time in what felt like my whole life, I was finally excited for the future.

Epilogue

Elizabeth – One Year Later

God damnit, he’s so late, I thought, looking down at my phone to check the time. Is he going to stand me up?

Just as the waitress came by with a second glass of wine, he appeared. Standing there in a black jacket, with his dark hair flopping into his eyes. When he saw me, the corner of his mouth lifted in half of a sardonic smile.

“Hey,” David said. “Sorry, there was traffic.”

I nodded. “It’s not a big deal,” I said quickly. “This is only my second glass.”

David snickered. He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, sending a shiver through my whole body. Then he sat on the opposite side of the booth.

“Maybe I should’ve been later,” he said dryly. “You get pretty fun after wine.”

I rolled my eyes. “You would say that,” I said, picking my glass up and taking a sip.

“I missed you a lot,” David said. “It’s been a long time.”

“A year that felt like a decade,” I said, groaning. “I just moved here a month ago and it feels like it happened last night.

“You like it so far?”

“Yeah, I think so,” I said, looking out the window. “Boston is nice. It’s…different from home.”

David laughed. “That’s a good thing,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s one of the only places I can tolerate.”
“So no plans to go back abroad?”
David shook his head. “Not right now.”

Hearing him say that felt better than it should have.

“You probably want to know why I called you,” I said slowly, looking down and running my finger around the rim of my wineglass. Suddenly, I regretted ordering a glass before David had arrived. The alcohol was making me nervous and awkward, and I felt like my cheeks were flaming hot.

“I think I know.”

I looked up. “Yeah?”

David nodded. “Yeah.”

“You’re not gonna make me say, are you?” I laughed nervously.

David reached across the table and took my hand. His fingers were ice-cold, but a warm sensation slid up my arm and into my chest, making me shiver.

“Elizabeth, you know I’ve had feelings for you a long time,” David said in a low voice. The way he said my name made me shiver. “But something was holding me back.”

“I know.” I nodded. “I know. I…I felt the same way,” I admitted.

“I want to be with you,” David said. “I’m…I’m sorry it took this long.”

I laughed shortly. “I feel like I can’t be without you,” I said. “And I don’t know what it is – I’ve felt like that for a long time, since before I saw you overseas.”

David nodded. “I know.”

“And you don’t think…whatever it was is going to hold you back anymore?”

David shook his head. “No,” he said. “I felt loyalty to Monica for a long time. I still do,” he added, looking right into my eyes. “And I’ll always…I don’t know, be grateful to her. She was one of the first people who didn’t look at me like a delinquent.”

“She was one of only people who treated me like I was actually interesting,” I said. A lump was forming in my throat and I forced myself to swallow it, send it back down to my stomach where it belonged. “I miss her every day, David. But I think she would want us to be happy.”

“We won’t ever forget her,” David said. “But something changed – I dunno, a year ago, maybe. It was like I realized that I could still be happy. I mean, I wasn’t happy.” He squeezed my hand. “But I think we could be happy together.”

“I think this is the only way things can be from now on,” I said quietly. “I’m sick of waiting for things to get better without doing anything about it.”

“Hey, you’ve done a lot,” David said. He wrinkled his nose. “You and Steven split up, you moved to Boston, you know. You’re doing really well.”

I shrugged. “I feel like all of my success now is owed to Monica,” I said softly. “I feel like I owe her everything.”
“You don’t owe her everything,” David said. “Just…some things.”

“I never would’ve met you if it hadn’t been for her.”

David nodded. “I know. I think about that sometimes. Does that make me a bad person?”

I shook my head. “No,” I said softly. “It doesn’t.”

The waitress came back and there was a short, awkward dialogue between her and David. When she’d left again, David got up and slid into the booth next to me. He put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. I closed my eyes and nestled my head on his shoulder, inhaling his musk. Happiness shot through me. It wasn’t electric – although there was lust there, too – but it was content, and fulfilling. Like I’d somehow found the one thing I’d always wanted.

“I still miss her,” I said softly without opening my eyes. “I think about her all the time.”

“Whatever happened to her parents? You hear from them?”

Monica’s house flashed back to me – the way it had looked a year ago, practically in ruin.

“No,” I said softly. “I don’t know. My mom told me someone bought their old house and tore most of it down. She doesn’t remember, though. Most people don’t – it’s like the family just disappeared.”

David slid his fingers under my chin and tilted my head up. “Hey,” he said. “I think we both know they didn’t disappear.”

I shuddered. “I know.”

David kissed me gently and I snuggled closer, putting my hand out to meet his on my shoulder.

“You wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah,” I said softly.

“Your place? Mine?”

I bit my lip and frowned. “This is going to sound nuts,” I said softly. “But part of me wants to go back to Jaffrey. Just for an hour or so,” I added. “If you don’t want to come, it’s okay.”

David nodded. “Nah, it’s fine,” he said. “I’ll come.” He smiled wryly. “I feel like I’ve had enough of being apart from you.”

I smiled so widely that my cheeks ached. “I know just what you mean,” I said quietly.

Three hours later, David and I were climbing out of his car and crossing the yard of Monica's old house. My mom had been right – most of the house was gone, and from what I could tell, construction had halted.

“It’s been a year since I’ve been back here,” I said, closing my eyes and inhaling the air. It smelled exactly the same. “I feel like I’m a kid again.”

“Oh, god, don’t say that,” David said. He twisted his mouth into a smirk. “I hated being a kid.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know,” I said. “I think you probably came out of the womb at thirty.”

David snickered. “Hey,” he said. “I’m only twenty-four, thanks for that.”

I stuck my tongue out. David wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close. We stood there for a moment, holding each other. Then I took his hand and led him to the edge of the yard, where the woods began.
“What’re you doing?” David asked.

I didn’t reply. Pulling the athame out of my bag, I knelt down on the ground and gently kissed the blade.

“Thank you,” I said softly, closing my eyes and picturing Monica’s face. “For everything.”

There was no answer. The wind gently blew through the trees and ruffled my hair. I held onto the athame for another moment, then carefully set it down on the ground.

I’ll never forget you, I thought. A lump swelled in my throat and I blinked back a few tears. I couldn’t explain it, but somehow I had a feeling that wherever Monica was, she was doing well.

Standing up, I wiped my hands on my jeans and turned to David.

“I’m ready.”
David raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

Stepping closer, I put my hand in his and squeezed. A strong feeling of love welled up in my chest. With my free hand, I wiped the few remaining tears from my eyes.

“I’m ready to go home.”

THE END

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Chapter 1

Mari shivered with the feeling o The dark, little bar was no more than a hole in the wall. Every surface had a vaguely sticky quality, though the bartender stood at the well rubbing at it with a stained rag. Apparently just pushing the dirt and grime around in a circle, rather than cleaning it. Blake could feel his lip curling in disgust as he neared the grubby human. “Double whiskey, whatever single malt you have, on the rocks,” he sighed as his eyes flicked around the room. He was on edge, and couldn’t quite place it. His friend didn’t seem bothered by the dingy surroundings even in the slightest. His eyes slid skeptically to meet Riley’s with a slight raise of his eyebrows.

Being out-and-about among the humans was not Blake’s idea of a good time. They were all so soft, and, frankly, just overwhelmed him with their general level of noise and filth. It was rare that his and Riley’s interactions with them didn’t find them in similarly dreadful conditions, and the women! They were the worst. They seemed to just ooze desperation at times, and, for some reason, would think it was okay to touch him. His arms, the occasional smack on his rear, or worse his hair. Blake could never understand what made them think that was acceptable.

He and Riley were friends and, ultimately, brothers in every sense of the word, except for being bound by blood. Blake’s parents had died at an early age, and it was Riley’s family that took him in, raising the brash, sullen, young dragon as their own. Blake and Riley were opposites, though, in every way. “This can’t be right,” Blake insisted as he gestured around the room, “There’s no way this is where we were supposed to meet them.” He raised an eyebrow as if challenging Riley to disagree.

Riley laughed, shrugging his friend’s concern off as he leaned carelessly against the bar, seemingly unbothered by the sticky surface. He held up two fingers to the bartender pouring Blake’s drink. “This is the place,” Riley said with a nod before turning to face him, “She said to meet her at the Dry Goat Pub, unless you think there is more than one establishment by that name around here?”

The bartender slid the two drinks towards the men, eyes narrowed. They stood out in the crowd, if you could call the small smattering of people a crowd. Blake passed him some cash and turned to walk away. There were three men in the corner staring balefully at some sort of sports game. Another, who looked like he was asleep or dead on the end of the bar, and one small man sitting alone at a table in the back. Among the rather sad middle-aged humans, the two young men towered over the room, each nearly brushing the low ceilings with the top of their heads. Even with their understated tee-shirts and jeans, they looked more like models or body builders, than the normal patrons of the Dry Goat. The bartender seemed none-too-thrilled at the change in clientele and continued to eye the two suspiciously as they crossed the room. He seemed content enough to take their money, though, and went back to rubbing his spot on the bar without question, other than his continued staring, which grew increasingly awkward the longer it continued.

“Bloody wolves,” Blake grumbled as he folded his long frame down to fit in a chair at a table, kicking his legs out to the side as they were just too long to comfortably fit under the table, “I don’t understand why we’re even doing this. Why can’t they solve their own problems?” He was sullen, sulking, and clearly annoyed at the whole prospect of having to work with another species for any reason. Blake could feel his dragon writhing beneath the surface, irritated at being suppressed and forced into such mundane surroundings. He longed for the outdoors and an escape from the claustrophobic atmosphere of the dank, little bar. A ripple of frustration furled through him, his eyes flashing a dangerous red for a moment.

“Hey, I don’t make the calls, I just follow orders, man,” Riley said after knocking back his drink. “Drink. Chill out. All we have to do is meet up with the wolves, complete the bodyguard gig for the night and we’re done. And we’re escorting young girls to a night club, how bad can that be? We sacrifice one night, and Selene gets what she wants from the wolves. Besides, girls. How bad can it be?” His bright grey eyes flicked to the door where two women entered. Riley would never understand why Blake was so vehemently against just letting things happen. Blake was wound tighter than anyone Riley had ever met, and didn’t even understand the concept of “go with the flow.” He was physically incapable of relaxing. Riley was sure that if Blake ever actually took the stick out of his ass, it would kill him. Despite the love he had for his friend, there was no denying that he was far too serious about things.

The two young women approached their table with smiles on their faces. Riley rose from the table with a smile. Riley frowned down at Blake. Blake had pointedly shifted his attention to his glass, which apparently had a smudge on it that his focus. Riley sighed at him before turning his attention back to the two women. “Nina?” he asked, shaking the woman’s hand with his face and demeanor lighting up. The distinct smell of wolf preceded them, and there was no question in Riley’s mind that this should be the woman they were sent to escort for the evening. Daughter of the most highly respected leader of the wolf clans in the East Coast.

“Yeah,” she giggled with a smile as she looked up at him shaking his hand, “This is my friend, Emma. Such a pleasure to meet ya!” She had a thick New Jersey accent, and it made Riley laugh slightly. Honestly, Riley could think of a lot worse things the two of them could do with their evening other than take the two young women out and watch over them. How hard could it be?

“I’m Riley. This is Blake,” he said, kicking his friend’s foot, attempting to get his attention. Blake was still absorbed in his glass and blatantly ignoring the people around them. Riley often wondered how Blake would have gotten by in the world without him.

Blake’s eyes flicked up for a fraction of a second, and he saw all he needed to. He had been disinterested in who they were before they had even arrived at the bar. Both women looked like the typical young wolf-shifters in their area. Their bodies were too muscular for women, tacky clothes, too much skin showing, and way too much makeup. Worst of all, they smelled like wet dogs. Blake’s eyes returned to his glass with a disappointed frown. He wanted the whiskey, but was under no circumstances putting that filthy glass in, on, or near his mouth.

The girls seemed to falter at Blake’s less than welcoming reaction. Riley waved a hand at him dismissively. “Ignore him. He’s always like that,” Riley explained before entering into what amounted to small talk about how it was Nina’s birthday.

Blake frowned at the explanation from his friend. He didn’t understand why Riley was so ready to fawn all over the women. They were nothing but mutts. What was the big deal? They were told to keep them safe for the night, nothing said they had to be nice, or be their best friends. There wasn’t even a mention that he, technically, had to talk to them.

The truth was Blake had never felt like he could make small talk with people. He wasn’t much for branching out socially. He could carry on a conversation with Riley and his adoptive parents, but they had spent so long with him that they understood him or at least accepted him. He felt awkward in his human form, like he didn’t fit. As a dragon, he felt free, alone but at least free from all the pressures that seemed to surround all the politics that went along with the shifter world.

Riley clapped him on the shoulder, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Ready, Blake?” His friend looked down at him, pale grey eyes dancing with humor. Per usual, Riley was certain that he was going to have to drag his friend kicking and sulking through the entire night.

An exasperated sigh escaped from deep within Blake as he rose from the chair. He shrugged a muscular shoulder and glanced down at the females with them, feeling their eyes on him. Both women had that typical look of appreciation and shock on their faces. He averted his eyes, uncomfortable with the feeling of them tracing his figure with their eyes. He had encountered women of various species, and had yet to encounter any that didn’t react the same. They looked him up and down. Blake could smell the lust roll off them in waves, and, frankly, he couldn’t imagine a bigger turn-off.

Blake turned leaving his full glass on the table as they headed for the door. Riley with an arm around both females, and Blake felt himself trailing awkwardly behind. As much as Blake hated the attention, Riley ate it up. Riley had always embraced the good looks he was graced with, and played up the big, strong, dragon card every chance he got. Blake let the door to the pub swing closed behind him with a dull thud, echoing his enthusiasm for the night in general.

At least being out in the night air helped Blake feel incrementally better than he had in the stifling, little pub. If it was that bad in the small, dingy pub, he had a bad feeling about how he would feel at the nightclub they were supposed to be going to with the girls.

Apparently, Nina had her heart set on a “normal human night out” for her 21st birthday and her father was influential enough to make it happen with the toughest escorts he could manage. Blake wondered idly what Selene could possibly want from the wolves, but that was above their paygrade. He had learned long before that there wasn’t much that he understood when it came to interspecies politics, or cared to know.

They piled into Nina’s car, Riley and Blake working to fold their tall bodies into the small backseat of the sedan. It was bad enough being in human form and feeling like so much power and being was crammed into such a tiny form, to then be forced to crunch his human form into such a small space was downright insulting. Faint coils of smoke slipped through Blake’s nostrils as his frustration peaked. “I hate cars,” he grumbled under his breath.

Riley shrugged a single shoulder and smacked him lightly on the shoulder, making the best of the situation like he always did.

“It can’t be that bad, the girls said it’s just fifteen minutes away,” Riley explained in what he thought was a helpful tone, but realized it was useless as his friend continued to fume next to him. The faint smell of brimstone permeated the small car. Riley shot his friend a look that was supposed to clearly convey the message that Blake should chill out and knock it off. All that he seemed to accomplish, was irritating Blake even more. Blake crossed his muscular arms across his chest and continued sulking. Blake huffed, shifted his weight yet again attempting to fit in the cramped space, and pointedly fixed his gaze out of the window. He kept reminding himself he just needed to get through the night. Just make it through this hellish night full of wolves and humans and he could go back home. He could fly and be far from this place. Blake desperately wanted to be left alone for a while, at least until Riley roped him into the next stupid mission he accepted.

Chapter 2

They arrived at the nightclub and waited in line attempting to blend in with the crowd, still standing out among the humans milling around. The bouncer at the door of the club frowned up at the two men. The bouncer seemed like he was not amused with the idea of letting the two large men in. He begrudgingly allowed them to pass after Riley did his best impression of a completely harmless human, charming his way through the distrust. The girls were bubbling with excitement as they entered the establishment, Riley matching their enthusiasm. Blake followed, quiet and working as hard as he could to simply maintain control.

Blake’s eyes swept back and forth through the room as they entered the crowded space. Hell. The crowded, noisy club was his own personal hell. The music was pounding through the room, people were milling about everywhere, bumping into Blake over and over. A permanent sneer plastered itself on his face and he crossed his arms in front of his chest, making him look every bit the bodyguard he had been hired to be. His senses were overloaded with the changing bright colors, the roaring noise, and the constant movement of the room.

The girls dragged Riley off to the dance floor, and he seemed content to follow. He glanced back at Blake with an apologetic shrug. Riley seemed to be enjoying the attention of both females enough all on his own.

Blake hung back, leaning against the wall. The pounding bass from the music made him feel like his whole body was vibrating. The overwhelming scent of lust and desperation in the air set his teeth on edge. Every time someone brushed past him, Blake glared at them accusatorily as if they were a threat.

Every so often, a woman who would approach him, the same look in her eyes full of lust, and would try to talk to Blake. The few brash ones would place a hand on his arm, or try to make physical contact in some way. He said nothing, just glared at them until they would walk away slightly confused, often an irritated, “Asshole,” muttered under their breath.

Blake didn’t care what they thought. They were so far beneath his notice, why should he bother even talking to them? His eyes stayed trained on Riley and the girls as much as possible, occasionally scanning the room for threats. They were there for a single purpose, and that was all he would focus on.

The night progressed much the same for an hour or so. Riley and the girls were drinking copious amounts of fruity drinks with vaguely suggestive names. Blake was still guarding the same square of space, bored out of his skull. Blake was certain all the music they were playing was the same. He felt as if the same driving bass was present in every song the DJ had played. He was contemplating just how satisfying it would have been to set the entire establishment ablaze, when he scented something altogether different enter the room.

Blake’s eyes snapped to the doorway, where a female entered. He could sense power off her even from across the room, but for some reason couldn’t figure out what she was. His eyes were glued to her, following her path through the room. The woman seemed to weave her way through the humans, writhing against each other, without disturbing anyone, like a boat moving through the water without causing a ripple. Blake found himself fascinated, despite some deeper instinct sending up warning flags.

The distraction made him doubt the security of the room. Blake could see one of the females standing at the bar, head bent over the soft glow of her cell phone. His eyes traced through the crowd to find Riley, who was now completely lost in making out with Nina. Apparently, Riley was taking the whole escorting idea to another level all together. Blake reminded himself if the woman who had caught his attention were something they should be worried about, Riley would have sensed it too.

Feeling incrementally less alert, Blake considered the mess that Riley was creating for himself. Blake was confident that having a dragon escort and ravage his daughter was the opposite intention that the girl’s father had for their actual evening, but that was for Riley to sort out. Not Blake’s problem in the slightest. His senses calmed, Blake found his mind drifting back to the woman, who had entered the room.

Blake brought his eyes back to where he thought the woman would be, but had lost track of her in the swirling crowd. He knew she was still there as he could sense the power off her, but for some reason she had slipped past his view. Blake stood straighter, hands dropping to his sides trying to crane his neck around the room to find her, when he felt a small hand on his arm. He froze and turned to look behind him and found the female standing at his elbow.

She arched an eyebrow looking up at him. “Looking for someone?” She asked with a lilting, teasing voice. She was teasing but was not looking at him the way all other women did. There was no lingering, no salivating, and no lust there. She looked at him simply intrigued and friendly. It was something Blake was altogether unprepared for.

He was taken aback a bit, and attempted to hide his surprise at himself. His eyes slid down to where her hand was on his arm in irritation. What was it with people and touching?

“What are you?” Blake demanded, his voice low so as not to carry, though the music would have drowned out what they were saying to anyone overhearing anyway.

He surveyed her small frame and thought perhaps she was Fae, if not something else. He had met Fae in the past a few times, but it was rare to come across them out in the human world, and, frankly, she didn’t smell anything like she should have if that’s what she was. Fae normally smelled like light, spring rain mixed in with an overwhelmingly earthy scent.

Blake inhaled deeply, his senses were far more sensitive than a human’s and it should have been easy for him to figure out what creature the woman was. He couldn’t understand it, and he felt the beast in him responding in the strangest way, urging him to just go…anywhere other than there in that moment.

Blake normally had excellent control of himself, or at least had for a very long time. As he stood there though, he could feel power pulling at him surrounded by so many fragile humans, his dragon instinct pulling his mind in odd directions. He needed to be away from this woman, and away from these humans as soon as possible. It was a perfect example of why Blake avoided crowds, especially crowds of humans. Nothing good ever came from interacting with the humans.

Blake turned to walk away and the woman grasped his arm, pulling him to a stop. She wasn’t overwhelmingly strong physically, but in that moment, he knew he had to stop regardless of what his intention to leave was. “Where you going?” She asked with a tilt of her head, “You don’t want to dance?” She seemed confused by his leaving, genuinely confused.

He shook his head no slowly as his thoughts remained clouded somewhere between rational and instinctual. Blake was sure it was just that the chaos in the room was getting to him. Somewhere deep in his mind, the dragon in him was still screaming that he needed to be out of that room, but, for some reason, he hesitated at her question.

Blake narrowed his eyes examining the woman more closely. She had the brightest amber-colored eyes that looked too large for her face, and dark brown hair pulled back in a neat braid. Her body was nearly skeletal, she was so thin. She had small hips, and barely any curves to speak of. Blake was sure even in his human form he could snap her bones she was so thin, though he wasn’t sure how well he’d fare as waves of power rippled off her.

The music seemed to amplify, driving the level of energy in the room up even further. The level of angst and lust in the room seemed to be increasing exponentially. Humans were grasping at each other hungrily on the dancefloor. He wasn’t sure if it was just their normal state in this setting, or if they were somehow sensing her power and feeding off it. It made the atmosphere of the room hang heavy and seductive around Blake.

He met the woman’s eyes skeptically. “I’m not much for dancing,” he stated, unsure what exactly to say to her. It sounded vaguely combative, as most things did coming out of his mouth. Blake was taken aback when she smiled warmly, which made her face look gaunter. She was young and beautiful, despite the frailness of her body. Blake frowned at the thought that she was beautiful. He didn’t do compliments. He wasn’t the type to notice one way or another if someone was attractive or not.

“You seem so out of place here,” she commented in a sing-song voice, “How in the world did they convince something as magnificent as you to coop yourself up here with all these humans?”

The flattery went to his head a bit. He was sure it wasn’t what she had meant, no one ever recognized him for what he was. Dragon-shifter yes, most other magical creatures could figure that much out, but it was rare that anyone beyond other dragons appreciated what he truly was. Even among the other dragons he felt discounted and underappreciated. No one thought there was much use for fire dragons any more. There were so few of his family left in the world, that the dragons had seemingly forgot what fire dragons were truly capable of.

“Business,” he answered slowly, not really sure how much he should be sharing with her or not, “You never answered my question though. What are you?” His voice was transactional at best, clipping his words short with his sheer annoyance at the entire situation unwrapping before him. Blake was not accustomed to anyone getting him to feel flattered in the slightest, let alone getting him to carry on a conversation when he was so decidedly uncomfortable.

She leaned closer to him, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck to draw him down to her level with the pretense of talking in his ear. “Go ahead and take a closer look,” the woman said, leaning her head to the side below his.

Rigid at the contact, Blake was unsure of exactly how to behave in that instant. He wanted to throw her hands off him and run, but was also beyond intrigued to know what kind of Fae this woman might be. Blake inhaled deeply and found himself overwhelmed with the smell of nature and what he could only explain as pure power. He had no idea what she was. Fae in some fashion, but something altogether more than Fae at the same time.

Blake had the oddest sensation as he felt his body responding to the closeness of her form. A tightening of his muscles, the feeling of blood coursing and rushing through his body. Blake had not often felt himself truly aroused by a female, the experience was almost as uncomfortable for him as the idea of having a conversation with someone, but somehow this thin wisp of a woman was drawing him in. Blake could feel the pull she seemed to have.

He hadn’t even thought to check on Riley and the girls, his focus was solely trained on the amber eyes of the woman before him. He stepped back from her arms, reaching up and pulling her arms away from him. Blake turned to walk away again, the need to get away from her and the crowded place welling up in him.

“Well,” she sighed, “You certainly are a surprise. Here I thought fire dragons were supposed to be full of passion. You are positively frigid!” She laughed, slapping him lightly on the butt as she fell into step with him.

He frowned at the contact. What was it with personal boundaries? Did no one keep their hands to themselves? Despite his anger, she was pulling his attention back in again. Blake felt the sway she held on his attention, it was as if as much as he tried to fight, the stronger the appeal was. She seemed to understand Blake, or at least that was the impression that was flooding over him.

The woman swayed lithely back and forth to the music as she walked, her hips keeping time with the driving bass that was still pumping through the room. The crowd seemed to press closer and closer around them, until she was dancing up against him.

Blake was consumed with the urge to place his hands on her and pull her closer against him, but realizing just how bizarre a reaction that would be he fought it again. He side-stepped away from the woman, forcing his way through the crowd without much care for if people would move out of his way or if he needed to move them. Whatever the woman was or wasn’t, he didn’t like the confined space and humans crowding all around him.

Blake could still feel her influence pulling at him as he was walking away. He reached the edge of the crowded room and turned, looking for Riley and the girls. They were lost in the crowd. Riley should have been visible slightly taller than others in the crowd, but Blake didn’t see him anywhere. A frown drew on his face, and his eyes searched the room again trying to figure out where they had disappeared to.

The strange Fae woman approached and stood casually at his side. “Your friends left already,” she offered in a helpful tone, “He seemed smitten with his wolves, and they all seemed to be having quite a bit of fun. I doubt you’ll hear from him for a while.”

Blake fumed at his impulsive friend, smoke seeping through his nostrils despite his effort to control it. Leave it to Riley, he never could turn down women. In his frustration at Riley’s recklessness, Blake didn’t think to ask how the woman had known that they were his friends, or even that they had been who he was looking for.

Blake reached in his deep pocket, fishing out his cell phone. Cell phones were one thing that he had to admit humans had right. They at least had some amazing technology, though he wished they didn’t make them so fragile. Blake went through phones on a regular basis, either crushing them by accident, or forgetting they were on him when he shifted. Apparently, smart phones aren’t meant to be dropped from the sky. He sent a message to Riley’s phone, irritated with his friend. You’re going to end up with fleas…I’m going home.

Blake shook his head as he glanced at the woman again. She was studying him with a look of fascination, devoid of attraction, just pure fascination. “What?” He snapped as he slid the phone in his back pocket and turned to head out the door. Blake wasn’t sure what she was, or what her deal was, but he was, frankly, beyond done with the human nightclub, and if Riley had taken the girls off to have some weird interspecies threesome, he was not needed anymore for the night. He scowled as the woman followed him out the door.

“Want to go get some coffee?” She asked with a sly grin, “Or are you too good for coffee?”

The way she spoke was like being challenged and flattered at the same time. Every time she spoke to him, he could feel her power pulling at the edges of his mind. He was conflicted. His dragon was telling him to go, as far and fast as he could from the place, but some secret place inside his mind was intrigued by the woman who seemed to be so unimpressed by him yet could flatter him at the same time. It was strange, and he couldn’t deny wanting to figure out just what her angle was.

Chapter 3

Blake had begrudgingly agreed to coffee with the odd female, though he wasn’t sure why he would willingly subject himself to yet more humans. He still couldn’t quite put his finger on why the woman made him so uneasy, but the longer he was with her the less he could think about it. He told himself it must have just been too much chaos around him with all the humans, and the music, trying to quiet the part of himself that was still so on edge.

She led him down the sidewalk to a small diner that was open all the time. Out of the stifling atmosphere of the nightclub he felt less overwhelmed, and was feeling better and better the longer he was away from the place.

She sat across from him at the diner, her legs crossed neatly under the table. Her thin fingers wrapped around a cup of coffee, amber eyes dancing over the top of the cup as she inspected him. “So, you really were out babysitting wolves for the night?” She asked quietly with a laugh, “They have you so wasted here! Mmm, I bet you’re magnificent.”

He could feel the flattery working on his ego, and felt himself warming to the attention slightly.

“Hardly,” Blake replied after taking a sip of coffee, “I just follow orders. No one cares much for what we can and can’t do any more. They just try to keep us manageable and in our place, no rocking the boat. I don’t make waves, I’m just happy they leave me alone most of the time.” It felt odd to him to be speaking so freely with the woman. Her influence on him was still palpable, making him feel more and more at ease as they sat there having what amounted to a friendly conversation for him.

Blake was taken aback when the woman leaned forward and placed a hand on his arm, intense warmth beneath her touch. His eyes flashing with the simultaneous urge to pull away but also yearning for the contact. His usual reaction when people he didn’t know touched him was to recoil, but he could feel the soft pulsing of her power beneath her touch. Blake’s eyes met hers as she smiled up at him. “What are you?” He asked again, sincerely wondering just what kind of Fae he had stumbled across.

She laughed, dismissing his question with a wave of her hand.

“Oh, you know close enough what I am,” she explained with a smile, “I’ve just got a little extra. A small bonus…je ne sais quois.” The French phrase rolled off her tongue effortlessly, betraying a definite familiarity with the language.

For the first time in his life, Blake found himself genuinely interested in learning more about someone. The longer they spoke, the more fascinating he found her. He had lived an extremely solitary life even with his adoptive family, and his dislike and distrust of other species made it rare that he encountered anyone, who he found interesting enough to talk to like that. She somehow put him at ease, melting his generally frigid exterior, and he found himself relaxing more and more into the conversation. His mind clouded in a comfortable warmth he was unaccustomed to, and unable to explain.

“So, what am I to call you then, my fiery new friend?” She asked with a wink before sipping her coffee.

Blake shifted uncomfortably, his long legs brushing hers under the table as he did so. The small amount of contact broke his attention for a moment. His mind flashed with the urge to touch her again, in every place he could imagine. It spoke to all the darkest corners of his mind, and he liked it. It struck him just how odd this whole night had ended up. Blake considered that maybe Riley wasn’t so crazy after all, if this is what it was like to meet a female he desired.

“Blake,” he said deliberately avoiding his last name as it was a source of deep shame for him. He frowned when she continued looking at him expectantly.

She raised one thin eyebrow, gesturing with her hand for him to continue. “Blake. Just ‘Blake’. No last name? You go by one name, like Cher, or Prince?” She asked, clearly teasing with the sarcastic expression on her face.

His face fell in annoyance back into a scowl, irritated that she seemed to be demanding him give his full name. People in the shifter world generally knew his family name, and associated it with what happened to the rest of his family. Not many species were in the dark, when it came to a dragon losing control and killing himself, his wife, and several humans. Blake had grown wary of the look in peoples’ eyes when they made the connection that he was one of “those” Kerrigan dragons.

“I have no idea who that is,” Blake admitted, trying to reason out who the people were she mentioned, “But no, I don’t have just one name. That would be ridiculous, really. My full name is Blakemore Kerrigan, if you must know.” He muttered the words reluctantly as he met her eyes in a challenging glare. He watched her carefully, expecting to see the realization cross her face as it did with most in the shifter community. He was confused when instead she broke out in a sly grin.

“Hmm, makes you sound like a pompous asshole,” she laughed as he squirmed uncomfortably, “Or some sort of soap opera character.” She was pulling crumpled dollar bills from her pocket and tossing them down on the table.

She rose from the table before he could process her reaction. She made such odd references to him all the time. Blake felt like she was half speaking in French again.

The small Fae woman was by far the strangest creature he had ever encountered. A small part of his mind was amused that even standing she was nearly the same height as him when he was seated at the table, she came up just a few inches taller than him.

“Soap opera character?” He asked, frowning at her statement. He had never been told that his name made him sound pompous. Blake had heard of opera before, but he had no idea what a soap opera was. He wasn’t sure what influence washing could possibly have on an opera, and he certainly had no idea what that would have to do with his name. “What is a soap opera?”

A smooth, quiet laugh escaped her as she leaned on the table bringing her face closer to his. “Melodramatic human television shows that lonely human housewives watch. Just think of me as your very own Ms. Carter,” she whispered while holding his eyes with her own. She reached down, pulling his wrist up to examine his watch, her face still a hair’s breadth from his own but her eyes turned down to the watch.

Her face was so close he could feel her breath on his lips, and his body was screaming for her touch. The feeling of her hand on his skin was electric. Blake inhaled a slow, ragged breath. He was unsure what was happening, but was painfully aware he didn’t want her to stop touching him.

“Look at the time,” she sighed before straightening up, “See you around, Blakemore.” His named seemed to linger in her mouth, rolling off her tongue as if it were something secret. The woman turned and walked away from the table, making for the door of the diner quickly, without passing him another glance.

He had no idea who she was talking about with Ms. Carter, having never heard of a soap opera, much less watched one. Before Blake could untangle himself from the low table they had sat at, she was out the door. He felt strangely empty, intrigued, and vastly confused by the whole encounter.

Blake frowned. He had no way to contact her, no way of seeing her again, and didn’t even know her name. He simply could not let that stand. Before he had even made up his mind, he was rising from the table and was walking after her. She was far too interesting to just let her disappear off into the night without even knowing her actual name. For the first time, Blake found himself actively wanting to talk to someone. He made his way for the exit with a feeling of intense need surging through him to find her.

His blood was rushing with an intensity he was used to only when actively hunting, his vision blurring slightly, and the urge to shift was pulling at the edges of his consciousness. Blake suppressed the urge as he was in the middle of a very busy human street, but with a great deal of effort.

His eyes swept up and down the street as he inhaled deeply attempting to catch her scent. It was distinct and didn’t take him long at all to pick up. He pivoted and headed down the street, his arm warm where she had touched him previously. The direction she had gone was in the opposite direction from the night club. Blake was torn. One part of him desperately wanted to find the woman, the other urgently wanted to go the opposite direction.

A faint vibration from the pocket of his jeans broke his concentration as he made up his mind to go after her. He frowned, pulling the device from his pocket and flicked irately at the screen to unlock it. He had three missed calls from Riley. He hadn’t even felt the phone going off.

A frustrated sigh escaped Blake as he dialed his friend. “Where are you?” Blake snapped at his friend as soon as the he picked up the phone, “What do you mean they’re gone?” If the girl’s father didn’t beat his friend into a pulp, Blake was sorely considering it himself. He reluctantly pivoted and headed off in the direction his friend was, though he could feel the pull from the woman urging him to continue his search for her.

***END OF PREVIEW***

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