Page 78 of These Witches Don't Burn
“I am.” Despite my father’s unconscious form behind me, I actually smile. It feels amazing to admit that to someone who truly knows what it means. “But you’re not. I would have known.”
A shadow crosses Morgan’s face. “No, I’m not.”
Her hesitation confuses me. “Are you a Caster?” Maybe she knows Detective Archer.
She shakes her head. “I’m a Blood Witch.”
22
THE ONLY SOUND INthe room is the beeping of Dad’s heart monitor.
I’m a Blood Witch.
I stare at the girl before me, whose kind eyes narrow in my silence. I step closer to my dad, shielding him as all the pieces click into place. The exacting control over her body when she dances. The impossible strength in her arms when she held me back from the blaze.
“You can’t—” It’s not possible. Lady Ariana said there weren’t any Blood Witches in Salem. Mom said we got the scrying wrong, but we didn’t. Morgan is here. She’s an only child living with her parents. She’s part of a large dance group. All the pieces are there. Everything fits. I bet there isn’t even a Hunter in Salem. “Was it you?”
Morgan’s eyebrows rise high. “Was what me?”
“This!” I gesture to Dad’s still form, and the sight of him breaks something in me. “Someone has been stalking my coven all summer.” I reach for my magic. The temperature in the room drops several degrees, and the air whips at our hair. “Was this because of you?”
Morgan crosses her arms. “Why? Because I’m a Blood Witch? The thing of nightmares?” She glares at me. “I’m notstalking you, Hannah. And there’s not some Big Bad Blood Witch out to get you. My parents and I are the only ones in the state. That’s precisely why we picked Massachusetts.”
I ignore her certainty. Her logic. “Right, I’m the idiot for suspecting a Blood Witch. Because you’re all softies at heart.” I shudder. “I’ve seen the dangerous magic your kind weaves.”
“Mykind?” Morgan practically screeches the words. I hold tighter to my power, ready in case she attacks. “I thought you of all people would be more understanding. I guess you’re not as accepting as I thought.”
Her words cut deep, shame infecting the injured flesh. I release my hold on the air, letting the room settle between us.
“Not all Blood Witches are evil,” Morgan continues before I can respond. “Even those with questionable morals are few and far between. Though, apparently, Elementalsarejust pyros with a superiority complex.”
Tears sting my eyes, fear and shame and worry closing my throat. “But what about my dad?” I sit at the edge of his bed, the weight of everything buckling my knees.
Morgan’s anger, her defensiveness, deflates. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I know this must be hard for you.” She searches for my gaze, her blue eyes questioning. “But why did you suspect a Blood Witch at all? We have no quarrel with your coven. And we certainly aren’t the type to play with fire.”
I wipe the tears from my eyes and drop my gaze. “I met a Blood Witch once, a few months ago in Manhattan. She...” My words die in my throat, and I can’t bring myself to look at Morgan. “She hurt me, and when all this started, I thought she had come here to kill me.”
“How did she even know you were an Elemental?” Morgan sits beside me at the very edge of Dad’s bed. “We don’t usually reach out to other witches. You tend to hate us.”
Though I want to deny her claim, it’s true. Everything I’ve ever learned about Blood Witches has been a cautionary tale. Scary stories to keep Elemental children in line. Even the Council only keeps one or two Blood Witches in each rank at any given time. “Well, your goddess is the one who got the Three Sisters banished from Earth.”
Morgan rolls her eyes at me. “Would you want to be constantly punished for something your creator did thousands of years ago?” She nudges me with her shoulder. “But really, why did that witch try to hurt you? Most of us aren’t like that.”
“It’s kind of a long story. I was on this class trip and stumbled into a feud between her and these Caster Witches.” Shame burns my cheeks. “They were trying to permanently bind the Blood Witch’s magic. She thought I was part of their group.”
Beside me, Morgan goes very still. “Were they successful?”
“No. She’s fine. She got away.” I pull out my phone, only to remember the pictures I’m looking for aren’t in this new one. “When there was an animal sacrifice this summer, I thought she had come for revenge. Eventually, I figured out the sacrifice was this Reg I know, Evan, but I also found runes on the Witch Museum down the street from my work. I never found out where those came from.”
“Oh, actually?” A blush creeps up Morgan’s cheeks. “Those were mine. I normally wouldn’t leave something like that out in the open, but my family left Duluth for a reason. Those runes were meant to provide protection, to keep my family hidden from what we left behind.”
“But my parents didn’t sense any magic in the blood.”
“One of the first things we learn is how to mask our magic from others. Most Elementals and Casters don’t like us. You suspect us of everything.”
“Sorry,” I say, but something sticks in the back of my head and holds on tight. “If you’re supposed to hide your magic, why did you draw them somewhere so public? And how are you here at all? I thought the Council banned Blood Witches from Salem.”
“My parents petitioned the Council for permission. We needed to be somewhere no one would look for us.” Morgan shudders, and I wonder what she’s running from. “As for the runes, the energy from all the Reg traffic helps amplify the power. Trust me, if I could get the same result from drawing runes at home, I would.”
