Page 25 of These Witches Don't Burn
I expect Veronica to say no, to pull away from my touch, but she nods her head. This time, the water trembles and the paint shifts like moving clouds. A figure forms at the center, standing alone. I’m about to ask Veronica if she knows what that means when two more figures emerge, standing behind the first. The water shifts again and shows the Blood Witch standing among a crowd.
Veronica jerks away, knocking over the bowl. Water and paint spill onto my floor.
“Dammit, Veronica! That’s going to stain.” I grab hold of the water’s energy, drawing the liquid out of the carpet and back into the bowl. Unfortunately, it leaves the paint behind. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Did you see how many witches there were?” Veronica collapses onto my bed and pulls her knees up to her chest. “There were twenty. At least!”
I shake my head. “I don’t think those were all BloodWitches.” Though I can’t back up my claim, my gut tells me I’m right.
The series of figures runs through my head again. One. Three. Many. I grab my sketchbook and a bit of charcoal and re-create the details before I lose them. “I think the first image we sawwasthe Blood Witch we were looking for. The extra pair in the second image felt farther away.” I sketch them in the background of the main figure, trying to re-create the same perspective of distance I saw in the bowl. “It’s like they’re not as involved. Maybe they were the witch’s family? Or they’re part of a small coven?”
Veronica shakes her head. “Blood Witches don’t have covens, not the way we do.”
I run my hands over my face. “Are you sure we didn’t do something wrong with the scrying? Those figures could mean anything.”
“Don’t blame me. This was your idea.”
“I’m not blaming you.” I let out a breath to the count of ten to keep the irritation from rising. “Walk through this with me, please? We know there’s at least one Blood Witch in Salem. That first image was so close.” I glance at my sketch, running my fingers along the outline of a slender person.
“These other two are farther away,” I say, pointing to the smaller figures I’ve sketched in the distance. “Maybe they’re on their way to Salem? Or maybe they’re related to the Blood Witch in some way? Parents or siblings or children or something? Who do we know that fits that description?”
I turn the page in my sketchbook and work on the final image, the one with the Blood Witch surrounded by a group. The memory is already hazy, but I capture the positioning of each person as best as I can.
Veronica slides her grimoire back in her bag. “I don’t know, Hannah. That description could apply to almost anyone. Maybe someone new to the area?”
“Maybe,” I muse, thinking of Cal. He’s the only new person I know. But he’s so genuine and nice. There’s no way he’s a Blood Witch. “I think we should include Evan, too. He was at both the sacrifice and the runes. I’m pretty sure he’s an only child, and he works with crowds at the museum. That could fit for this last image.”
My ex seems less convinced. “You thinkEvan’sa witch? And how exactly are we supposed to prove that ridiculous theory?” She slips her purse over one shoulder. “We can’t cut him and see if his skin magically heals. If he’s a Reg, that’s both super weird and possibly criminal.”
“I don’t know, Veronica. But we have to dosomething.”
The room falls silent between us, broken only by the buzz of my phone.
GG:Hannah!!! The girls at dance are dragging me to a party tonight. Come keep me company. Please please please!
Gears loosen and turn in my head. We’ll have to break just a few more rules, but if we can catch the Blood Witch, it’ll be worth whatever punishment my grandmother has in store for us. Who knows, she might even be grateful enough to reverse the one she’s already levied.
I turn to Veronica, the final pieces clicking into place. “I have a plan.”
8
MUSIC SHAKES THE FLOORof Nolan’s front porch as Gemma and I step up to the house. Students spill into the yard, balancing cans of shitty beer with plates of salty snacks while clusters of recent grads tip back Solo cups inside the foyer. Gem and I break through the wall of sound and officially enter the party.
I adjust my shorts and brush imaginary lint from the too-tight tank top Gemma talked me into wearing. Her mom gave us a weird look when she walked past the open bedroom door and caught Gem giving me a once-over to approve the outfit. Gemma didn’t notice—she never notices—but I’m going to have to avoid her parents for at least a week now.
A quick glance around the party helps me refocus, and I shake the memory of Mrs. Goodwin’s discomfort away. I need to find Veronica and borrow her mom’s crystals. Veronica will amplify the stones’ vibrations, making it impossible for anyone we see to resist our questions. If there’s a Blood Witch at this party, we’ll find them.
Gemma loops her arm through mine and leads me into the packed living room. I scan the crowd but don’t see Veronica anywhere.She’d better show.
“Asshat at three o’clock,” Gemma yells over the music, and gestures with her head.
About time.I turn to look, but it’s not Veronica. It’s Nolan. He’s standing in front of the fireplace with a can of PBR in one hand, holding court over the soccer team while keeping an eye on the rest of the guests.
“So, what’s the plan?” Gemma asks as we make our way to the kitchen for drinks. “Dance until we can’t see straight?”
“I never seestraight,” I say, and Gem rolls her eyes at my pun. I’m about to remind her that I don’t dance when two girls half stumble, half glide in from the backyard, their arms around each other’s shoulders as they approach the table.
“Gemma!” The shorter girl brightens when she sees Gem, and I realize where I’ve seen her before: the dance studio. She looks different without her hair pulled into a high bun. Younger. More carefree. I don’t recognize her red-haired friend, but her perfect posture and the slight turnout to her steps shoutdancer.
