Page 64 of These Witches Don't Burn
“I’m fine. I’m coming.” I unbuckle my seat belt and climb out. My body is still achy, though the worst of the soreness is finally gone.
My family rounds the corner to the backyard, and the scene is more familiar than the hushed gathering in the early hours of last week. Around the safety of the coven, the children have removed their binding charms. They chase each other across the wide expanse of the yard, laughing and throwing balls of water—held together by their fledgling magic—like Reg children might toss water balloons. Veronica’s brother, Gabe, is back from his grandparents’ house, and he’s currently trying to use his earth magic to trip his cousin Sullivan.
Veronica, for now, is nowhere to be seen.
At the altar, I let my parents stop first, and they add their power to the trio of candles that represent the Sister Goddesses. When I’m alone, I do the same, my fingers lingering over the center flame. The Middle Sister’s flame.
I wish you were still here. A deep longing swells up inside me, so suddenly it nearly knocks me off balance. What must it be like, to pray to a god you believe can hear you, a god who could answer your prayers if only you tried hard enough?
Because of the Blood Witches, we’ve never had that option.
After the Eldest Sister created Caster Witches and the Middle Sister made Elementals, the youngest of the Three Sister Goddesses grew jealous. Unable to create witches of her own, she stole into the Mother Goddess’s garden and pricked her finger on a rose, sacrificing her own magic to create the Blood Witches.
The Youngest Sister’s crimes should have cost her immortality, but the Mother Goddess took pity on her, the favorite of her daughters. Instead, she banished the Sister Goddesses, forbidding them from interfering with the affairs of Earth’s mortals ever again.
“Can I talk to you?”
Veronica’s voice jolts me out of my thoughts, and I flinch. “No.” I stalk away from the altar, losing what little calm the short ritual had provided. Instead, my head is full of images I want to carve out of my mind. No one should have to see their ex with someone else, not like that. Not when all you wanted was someone to tell you everything would be okay.
“Hannah, please.” Veronica chases after me, but I’m saved from responding when Lady Ariana sends a pulse of energy through the earth.
The children stop playing, and we all gather at the center of the yard. I spot Detective Archer, standing a few inches taller than anyone else, wearing his usual suit and tie. He waits a few paces behind Lady Ariana, showing her deference before the coven.
“Agent Archer and I have talked at great length about what you will learn tonight. It will be a difficult lesson, one that goes against the very nature of our magic. Unfortunately, we feel it is a necessary one.” Lady Ariana glances behind her, and Detective Archer steps forward. “Agent, you wanted to say a few words before we begin?”
The detective nods, but he shifts on his feet and doesn’t seem to meet anyone’s gaze. “Yes, thank you.” He clears his throat. Once. Twice. The usual comfort, the confidence I’m accustomed to seeing from this man, has all but vanished. “My assistant and I are working diligently to find this Hunter. We haven’t been able to pinpoint their location yet, so it’s vital that you each know what to do if you run into one.”
To my left, Ellen Watson raises a hand but doesn’t wait for permission to speak. “Do you at least know who it is?”
“We’re investigating a few leads, yes.”
Ellen shifts her weight and glances down the line of assembled witches. “So, youdon’tknow then. It could be anyone in town.”
A flush of color rises on the detective’s face, though his expression remains stern. “We have strong reason to believe that a Hunter we faced a few months back has made his way to Salem.”
“But how do you—” Ellen tries again.
“That’s Council business, I’m afraid. I’m not at liberty to discuss such matters.” Detective Archer clears his throat and turns his attention away from Ellen. “As for protection, your best bet against a Hunter is to fly under the radar. If they don’t see your magic in action, they’ll have no idea you’re part of the Clans.”
It’s a little late for that.
Instinctively, I glance down the line at Veronica. That particular ship has already sailed for both of us, though I’m still not sure how the Hunter first learned of her. The magic she used at the bonfire was subtle. Who could have noticed?
“I know magic can be a little more...” Archer pauses, searching for the right word. “Instinctualfor Elementals. Historically, the smallest bits of your magic have been acceptable in public.That will no longer be the case. A single slip can put an entire family in danger. The Hunters know our gifts are hereditary.”
At that, a murmur goes through the assembled witches. Parents clutch their youngest children close. A sick feeling coils in my stomach, heavy with dread. I don’t know why I never considered it, not once in all the times I’ve stressed about the Hunter knowing about me. He knows about my parents, too.
“As such,” Archer continues, “your high priestess has agreed to temporarily extend the age through which a binding charm is required. Until the Hunter is caught, all witches under seventeen will wear the ring.”
The Nevins twins, who turned sixteen back in April, try to protest, but their parents hush them before they get out more than a single indignant sound. Detective Archer continues his advice, all of which is completely useless to my family. We’re already known to the Hunter. We’re already a target.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I don’t bother looking. It’s probably Gemma, with an updated countdown on when I’ll have to break another of Detective Archer’s rules. With a Hunter threat this immediate, a threat I never thought I’d face in my lifetime, it’s more dangerous than ever for a Reg to know the truth. But I can’t risk Gemma’s life. I can’t give her to the Council.
Detective Archer turns the meeting over to Lady Ariana, and though I didn’t think it was possible, the night gets even worse. The magic she and Archer want us to wield goes against everything Elemental magic is supposed to be.
Instead of working along the natural currents of energy, they want us stealing air from lungs and finding threads of water energy inside blood in order to freeze it. The magic is supposed to be near invisible to onlookers, and the pain it causes will giveus a chance to run for help, but it feels too close to Blood Magic for comfort. We’re paired up to practice the techniques on vials of blood and old-fashioned fireplace bellows, but I don’t have the stomach for it. For any of this.
Especially after we’re paired off by age, which matches me with Veronica.
