Page 9 of These Witches Don't Burn
“So? Your dad is smart enough to know this is either a Reg prank or some kind of pagan ritual. Either way, it doesn’t involve us or our coven.” Veronica sighs. “I’ve worked too hard to missgraduation. I’m not going to skip my speech because you’re afraid of a Blood Witch who doesn’t even know what state we live in.”
When she puts it like that, I can’t deny the logic in her words. But I hate admitting that she’s right. “Fine,” I say, clipping the word short. “I won’t say anything about tonight until after graduation.”
Veronica looks like she wants to argue, but she shakes her head. “I’m going with Savannah to the hospital. You good?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” I bounce forward on the balls of my feet and ignore the stinging in my eyes. “Go ahead. You don’t want to miss your ride.”
Veronica worries at her lower lip. I think for a second she might say more, but she shakes her head and disappears into the back of the ambulance.
My chest aches to see her like this. Vulnerable. Afraid.Nottrying to make my life miserable. It’s so much easier to deal with all the emotions swirling inside—the betrayal, the hurt, the lingering attraction—when we’re fighting.
“Hannah?” Gemma steps close and wraps her arms around me. “You okay?”
“I will be.” I soak in her warmth and watch the ambulance drive off. Someone took down the mangled raccoon, bagged it up, and carted it away. I’m not sure what happened to Nolan or Evan after the fight. I didn’t see either of them in handcuffs, so that’s probably a good sign.
Gemma and I tried to leave earlier with the rest of our classmates, but someone told the cops I was the one who found Savannah. Never mind that Veronica and I found her together. Veronica gets to ride off in an ambulance while I’m stuck out here with the raccoon blood.
Lucky me.
I’m about to ask one of the officers if we can leave when a man with short brown hair and a tall, lean frame heads our way. Unlike the rest of the cops, he’s not in uniform. He’s wearing a dark gray suit with black dress shoes. Not exactly bonfire-in-the-woods attire.
“Good evening, ladies. I’m Detective Archer. Which of you is Miss Walsh?” He taps a pen to his small notebook.
It must be a slow night if they sent a detective out for this. “I’m Hannah Walsh,” I say, and release Gemma’s hand, reminding myself to breathe. I let Veronica’s earlier conviction steady my nerves. Nothing that happened tonight has anything to do with the Clans. This wasn’t a Blood Witch. We’re safe.
“You found Miss Clarke this evening?”
I assume he means Savannah. I don’t actually know her last name. “Yeah. Veronica and I heard her scream over the music. I happened to get here first. But, like, by a second. Tops.”
The detective stares at me like he’s waiting for me to say more. His attention is unnerving; it prickles along my skin, making me shiver.
“I’m not sure what else I can tell you. We barely beat the others here,” I add when hestilldoesn’t speak.
Detective Archer scribbles something in his little notebook. “And did you recognize the symbol burned into the ground?”
“Umm...” How much is dangerous to admit? I’m a terrible liar, always have been. Some say it’s an admirable quality, but those people must not have any real secrets to keep. “Yeah, sure. Of course,” I answer after the silence has stretched on far too long. “I’ve lived in Salem my whole life. I know a pentacle when I see one.”
“And you’re aware the pentacle is a symbol of witchcraft?” The detective stares at me, unblinking.
I catch myself rolling my eyes, but not fast enough to prevent it. Gemma shoves an elbow in my ribs, and the detective cocks a brow. “Sorry, it’s just... Salem. Witch trials. It all kind of comes with the territory.”
Detective Archer stops with the note-taking for a second and really looks at me. “Well then, it’s a good thing I met an expert on my first assignment.”
“I’m not an expert.” The words fly out of my mouth before I realize they’re in my brain. I’ve barely said anything. How could he— Then the sarcasm registers, followed by the rest of his sentence, and embarrassment burns my cheeks. “You’re new here?”
The detective gives a quick nod and returns to his notes, flipping back a couple pages. “Can you explain why you and your friends tried to hide evidence?”
“We didn’t—”
“You didn’t destroy the burning pentacle?”
I glance at Gemma, but she’s still tipsy and hasn’t spoken. I try to act like this whole conversation isn’t hitting too close to home. “We didn’t want the guys to roll through the flames and catch themselves on fire. I didn’t think it was evidence.”
“Right. The fight between Nolan Abbott and Evan Woelk. Any idea whether either of them might be involved with the sacrifice?” Detective Archer holds his pen poised and ready.
“I don’t know. We don’t really run in the same circles.” I glance back toward the pentacle and it hits me. Evan came into the store today. He could have used the athame to kill the animal...
Beside me, Gemma shivers. “Um, sir? Could we go home now?”
