Morgan flushes a satisfying shade of pink as the first warning bell clangs through the halls, effectively ending their interrogation.
We melt into the flow of student traffic and head deeper into the school. The press of shifting bodies sends a tremor of unease through me, but I do my best to keep it hidden. To bury it deep enough that Morgan won’t notice. I see Benton in every tall, dark-haired figure that passes the edge of my vision and have to remind myself to breathe. The Benton I knew in these halls, the friend I joked with and confided in, is gone. The Witch Hunter he became, the boy who tried to kill me—whose parents murdered my dad—is rotting in a jail cell while he waits for his trial.
Fresh nerves turn my stomach. Jury selection begins in less than a month. Twelve strangers who will determine his fate.
And mine.
Gemma heads for her locker on the other side of the school, and I look for a distraction. “Are you nervous?” Since it’s Morgan’s first day at Salem High, I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels like she swallowed a migration of butterflies this morning.
Morgan shrugs, a movement so graceful that walking beside her makes me feel like a robot, all stiff limbs and mechanical expressions. “I miss my friends,” she says as we turn a corner. “But it could be worse. I have Gemma and Kate and the other people from dance.” Morgan tucks a red curl behind her ear. “You’re not half-bad, either.”
“That’s the goal. A half-decent girlfriend and a not-terrible friend.”
She laughs and watches the locker numbers tick up and up until we reach hers. It takes her two tries to spin the combination correctly, but soon the door pulls free with a violent shudder. “You know you’re great.”
“If you say so.” I lean against the locker beside hers and reach for my necklace. I’m still not used to the way she tosses out compliments like she has an infinite supply. I run the bit of black tourmaline crystal along its thin silver chain. The crystal was a gift from my boss, Lauren, and Mom empowered the stone to increase its calming and protective qualities.
Before she can reply, two boys turn the corner and walk down the hall toward us. “Did you seriously spend the whole summer doing community service? That sucks, dude.”
Nolan Abbott, soccer star and all-around asshole, has the audacity to soak up his friend’s sympathy. “It was shit. I tried to do my hours at the animal shelter, but that stupid cop wouldn’t go for it. He made me pick up trash and scrub graffiti like a delinquent.”
I barely suppress a laugh, and it comes out as an undignified snort. Detective Ryan Archer is not only the “stupid cop” who busted Nolan for smashing a rock through my front window, he’s also the Caster Witch who helped rescue me from a fiery death. Archer denied Nolan’s shelter pick on my request. Nolan didn’t deserve to spend a summer walking puppies.
Unfortunately, my moment of petty satisfaction attracts Nolan’s attention. He glances up, and when he spots me for the first time, his expression goes stormy. “Something funny?”
“Besides your face?”
Nolan scowls. “Sick burn. Did Benton teach you that when he tied you to a stake and set you on fire?”
His words drain the blood from my face and leave my knees weak.
Morgan slams the locker and props the books on her hip, pressing her free hand against the small of my back. Blood Magic floods my system, invisible to them but numbing the rising pain and panic that’s threatening to swallow me whole. It blots out the memories before they can fully form, leaving nothing but wisps of smoke in their wake. “Come on, Hannah. He’s not worth it.”
I let her steer me away, but even with her power flowing through my veins, I can’t stop my hands from shaking. I’m okay. I’m safe. I force myself to breathe, inhaling for five steps, exhaling for ten. Benton’s in jail. I’m okay. By the time we make it to my locker, my fingers are steady enough to spin the combination and store my things inside.
“You can let go,” I whisper as we head toward our homerooms, which are across the hall from each other. Morgan isn’t touching me anymore, but she must know what I mean. Her magic falls away, leaving my jagged nerves exposed again. “Thank you.”
The softest shadow of a smile graces her lips. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m good. I promise.” I step back toward my homeroom, the last few stragglers maneuvering around us. “I’ll see you at your locker before lunch?”
She nods and slips into her class as the final bell rings. I hurry in before the clanging stops, and all eyes turn to me. The silence is heavy with expectation.
I force a smile and ease down the aisle, finding a seat near the back. My whole body is tense under the weight of their attention, but I keep my spine straight. I remind myself to breathe. Remind myself not to feel too strongly. I hide my still trembling hands under the desk.
I’m okay. I can do this.
If I can survive the Witch Hunters, I can survive high school.
2
BY THE END OF our short three-day week, I’ve settled back into the rhythm of school. My lack of an epic meltdown has calmed the gawking stares down to curious glances, and people stop going quiet every time I enter a room.
On Friday, while most of my classmates prepare to spend their first weekend getting wasted at Nolan’s newly renovated home, I’m driving Gemma somewhere I didn’t expect to visit this year: the Fly by Night Cauldron.
After everything that happened this summer, I couldn’t bring myself to go back to work. As much as I love my boss, Lauren, and the freedom of having my own paycheck, I couldn’t fit in Cauldron shifts and find a way to fight the Witch Hunters. Something had to give.
But when Gem complained at lunch that her mom couldn’t drive her to the Cauldron, where she’s been studying Wicca with Lauren, I saw an opportunity I couldn’t miss.
Cal, my former Cauldron coworker and a junior agent for the Council, works most Fridays after his classes at Salem State. If I can convince him that I should be allowed to join the fight, maybe he can get the rest of the Council on my side, too. Mom won’t be able to stop me if the entire Council wants me on board.
She won’t be able to prevent me from taking down the people who hurt us—starting with Benton’s parents.
The Halls have evaded capture so far, by both the police and the Council, but I intend to be there when they’re finally brought in. I squeeze the necklace Lauren gave me after my dad died, trying to absorb its strength.
He didn’t just die, a small voice inside corrects, he was murdered. Something cold slithers through my veins. Hatred, maybe. Grief.
We pull into the parking garage, and Gemma fidgets in her seat. “Are you sure you aren’t mad that I’m doing this?” It’s the fifth time she’s asked since she started her lessons with Lauren over the summer. There’s a new urgency to her tone, probably because this is the first time we’ll be in the shop together.