Page 9 of Heart of a Witch
My stomach knotted. “As what?”
She shook her head. “I knew you’d judge.”
“I’m not judging.”
“You used to like that place.”
“Before it was taken over by heathens, Ember.”
She scoffed. “They’re not. Chester’s the son of the owners, and he’s well-mannered and perfectly lovely.”
“Perfectly lovely?” My voice rose an octave. “The son of thosevampires.”
“Vampires don’t exist,” she shot back with a scowl, “and yes, they use dark magic on occasion, but that doesn’t mean they’re heathens. You’ve used it too.”
I stared at her incredulously. “Huge difference there. Theykillpeople.”
She waved a hand. “Rumors. They use animals.”
“You’re okay with that now, are you?”
“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But they’re not killing people, and Chester doesn’t get involved with those rituals at all. He uses magic like I do.”
“They do kill people,” I replied. “You know they do.”
“Before tonight, I believed it was a possibility, but after meeting Chester and everything he told me, I know those rumors are wrong. I think they’re good people, and many witches think they’re bad because they’re… different.” She looked me up and down. “I thought you’d understand, of all people.”
I glanced down at my silver-and-black rings, my navy nails, and my black lace dress. “I’m not a murderer.”
“They’re not either—well, Chester’s not. He has a good soul.”
Her eyes glazed over. I’d seen that look before in people. Shelikedhim liked him. Underworld help me. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” she said simply, then gestured me out of her room.
I paused by the door, then glanced at the dress again. I hated being in an argument with her. It felt so heavy, but I couldn’t be okay with her putting herself in danger. I also didn’t want her to feel bad. “You can borrow my red dress tomorrow.”
“Really?”
She’d begged me to let her wear it countless times. “I’ll leave it out for you. If you’re going to insist on working at that horrible place, you should at least look good doing it.”
Silence hung between us before she finally said, “I love you too, Tori.”
I left, then stopped by Cas’s room to check he was back and moved on quickly when I heard faint moans from a woman inside.
I went back to my snakes, who’d coiled up on my pillows. “At least you both listen to me,” I said, shaking my head, and lifted them both to return them to their tank. I could swear Ebony gave me a smile, in her own snakelike way, before settling between leaves. Buttercup, however, hissed in defiance when I placed her down. She always had been the bitch of the two.
I threw myself back on my bed. I’d try the ritual again tonight. At least I wouldn’t be as sleep-deprived. The morning was barely here; I could go back to sleep for a few hours. My thoughts drifted to what Ember had said about me going to the club. To meet someone. It had been a long time since I’d shared my bed with anyone. I’d only ever dated warlocks, and there were so few in our town. I remembered the way it felt to be touched, to feel their mouths against my breasts, and the heat of their bodies becoming one with mine. I missed it, but with no warlocks I didn’t already know in this town, I had no choice to do without. There was no way in the underworld that I’d ever kiss, let alone share my bed with a human.
Three
The earthy smell lingered after the rain finished that evening. I fell out into a clearing among maple trees. Red leaves carpeted the ground, sludging under my boots, as I made my way with my bag and oil lamp. I pulled my black and purple spell candles from a pouch, along with the torn grimoire pages detailing the ritual instructions because there was no way I was carrying that ancient, massive book with me into the forest.
I placed the lamp on the ground at a clearing. I grabbed handfuls of twigs and stones, creating symbols in the dirt. Around them, I placed the candles and jewelry, then closed my eyes. It was only eight o’clock, but the sun was setting earlier each day, as it always did this time of year. I smiled, looking up at the darkening sky. I welcomed the darkness.
Once I whispered the incantation of a shield, a bubble appeared over my head, sheltering me and the candles from any delayed rain drops. I pursed my lips. Dark magic required a price. Unlike the magic we could play with naturally, it fulfilled desires with no boundaries, pushing against the fabric of timelines that shouldn’t be messed with, and normally I’d steer clear of it. I’d seen firsthand the damage it had done to my mother all those years ago, but with the hunter prowling, there was no other magic that could prevent us from detection. Magic lived in our blood, and if a hunter used a detection object near us, it would reveal who we really were.
I glared down at the grimoire page copies. “You require more than a near-dying bird, don’t you?”
