“Well, if you weren’t so irrationally afraid of Blood Witches, Lady Ariana never would have found out.” Veronica curses as she struggles against the immovable earth. “This is just as much your fault as mine.”
“It’s not irrational to be afraid of someone who tried to kill you,” I snap back, and Veronica finally shuts up. I reach again for the earth’s power, but I’m like an ant trying to move a mountain. It doesn’t help that earth has always been my weakest element.
Veronica doesn’t seem to be having better luck. She struggles and groans but stays firmly rooted in the ground.
While we strain our magic to dig ourselves out of these vertical graves, my mind drifts back to last night. What reason could a Reg have for doing this? What did they hope to accomplish? And then there’s the bigger question: Who?
Evan still seems like the best suspect given his purchases at the Cauldron, but that doesn’t mean it was him.
There’s also Nolan. He certainly had a strong reaction to the sacrifice. Was he actually pissed or simply using his outrage to hide his involvement? He had plenty of time to perform the ritual before Gemma and I arrived in the woods.
Or maybe this wasn’t even meant to be a spell. Maybe Savannah was trying to mess with me again. After she slipped in the blood and hurt her wrist, she could have faked seeing someone else run away from the scene of her crime.
“This is useless.” Veronica sighs, her forehead damp with sweat. “There’s no way we can overpower Lady Ariana’s magic.”
Veronica’s right, but I don’t say so. I don’t say anything. Despite what she thinks, this whole thing is her fault.
The breeze picks up, fluttering the grass that’s practically at eye level. Lady Ariana spelled the earth, but she didn’t touch the air.
“Do you remember when Gabe was eight, and he slipped off his binding charm without permission at our Beltane celebration?” I ask, the memory of Veronica’s younger brother bringing a smile to my lips despite everything.
Veronica laughs. “He got so dizzy from dancing around the maypole that he spun a cyclone that nearly uprooted all of Lady Ariana’s gardens.” She glowers. “His first initiation was only pushed back two weeks for that.”
“He was a child, V. Of course his sentence was lighter.” I scowl at her. “And he was surrounded by the coven, not a bunch of Regs.”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is that I have an idea.” I reach for the air, my magic humming under my skin, and grab hold of its will. It resists at first—air is a slippery element—but soon it bends to my call and starts to spin.
It takes all my focus to spiral the air into a thin cyclone and keep it from growing too large. The mini tornado pulls my hair loose and whips it around my face. As the wind reaches maximum velocity, I send the cyclone tunneling into the ground. Dirt flies into the air, and my makeshift shovel loosens the earth that binds me. I push until my muscles ache, until my power fades, and I only hope it’s enough.
When the wind calms, and the dirt settles, Veronica and I are both covered in debris. I climb out of my loosened grave and fall onto my back, chest heaving from the effort.
“Clever,” Veronica says, a smile on her face. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she looked proud. The warmth in her gaze, the familiarity of that old us-against-the-world look in her eyes, punctures the armor around my heart.
I can’t do this. Not anymore.
As Veronica takes a deep breath and copies my technique, I pull myself up and escape the clearing, struggling against the pull of the wind at my back.
“Hannah, wait.” Branches snap behind me as Veronica rushes to catch up. She pulls me to a stop one bend before the cars, where we’re still hidden from view.
I flinch away from her touch. “What do you want?”
Veronica steps forward, but she doesn’t snap back. She looks . . . confused. “Why’d you do it?”
“Do what?”
“You stood up for me. Against Lady Ariana, of all people. Why?”
I force a shrug, but the movement is constricted by her closeness. “If Benton hadn’t caught me, I might have done the same thing.”
“But you didn’t.” Veronica shakes her head and steps closer. She trails her fingers down my bare, dirt-streaked arm. “I think it’s more than that.” She tries to lace our fingers together. “Do you still love me?”
Her words rattle through my rib cage, and it’s all I can do to shake my head. I pull my hand from hers and step out of reach. I can’t let her see how much my skin sings under her touch. How true her words used to be.
“Come on, Hannah.” Her voice is breaking, and I can’t bear to look at her. “We were so good together.”
But we weren’t. “I can’t do this right now.” I try to turn away, but Veronica blocks my path. She steps closer, and her familiar scent—floral body wash and coconut shampoo, now with a hint of earth—washes over me. It floods my senses until I’m drowning.
Veronica leans forward, her forehead resting against mine. “You can’t deny you miss me,” she whispers, her breath warm on my face. “I miss you so much.”
I want to tell her no. Tell her she’s wrong, that I never loved her, but I can’t. I did love her. First as a friend and then as the girl I thought I’d marry. And now, with her so close, that’s the only part I can remember.
In my silence, Veronica leans in and closes the final gap.
And then I’m flying.
Her lips are warm against mine, and all the feelings I tried to bury flare back to life. The love, the passion, the heat of everything we shared. Against my better judgment, I kiss her back. Nothing about this moment is tender. It’s frantic. Hungry. Full of hurt.
I wrap my arms around her waist, my hands slipping along the thin fabric of her dress. The one we picked out together. I pull her tighter to me, until our bodies are flush, but it still isn’t enough.
Veronica bites my lip, and the pain reminds me of all the reasons this has to end. I pull away, hating how much her sudden absence affects me. My body doesn’t feel whole without her pressed against it.
“We can’t do this. I can’t do this.” My breath comes out in a rush, and I’m powerless to stop the tears. “We’re over.”
“But why? We were perfect together. We can have that again.” Tears pool in her eyes, making the green shine bright. “You want me just as much as I want you. That kiss proves it.”
“It only proves I’m lonely.”
“Oh, please. There was passion in that kiss.” Veronica brushes away her tears, her movements harsh, like she hates to show weakness. But then she softens. “I love you.”