Home > These Witches Don't Burn (These Witches Don't Burn #1)(9)

These Witches Don't Burn (These Witches Don't Burn #1)(9)
Author: Isabel Sterling

   “Mom? Do we have any jelly?” I ask, standing up from the table. “Could you help me find it?” I shoot her a look and hope she reads the meaning there.

   She meets my gaze and nods. “Sure. There should be some in the fridge.”

   “Do you have strawberry?” Gem asks as she spears a piece of cantaloupe with her fork, oblivious to how much I’m panicking.

   “Probably. I’ll look,” I say, and lead Mom into the kitchen. I don’t know how to explain this with Gemma in the next room, chatting to my father about last night’s fight.

   “What’s going on, Hannah?” Mom asks, opening the fridge and pulling out a jar of jelly. “What’s this about an animal sacrifice?”

   I glance back to the dining room, but we’re far enough away that I can’t make out Gemma’s words. Even so, I keep my voice low as I tell Mom everything that happened last night. Savannah’s scream. The sacrificial raccoon. The pentacle. I leave out the part where Veronica used her magic in public. I may hate my ex, but I don’t hate her that much.

   When I’m finished, Mom lets out a long sigh. “Regs in this town . . . Their foolishness never ceases to amaze me.”

   “What if it wasn’t a Reg?”

   Mom cuts me a look, her eyes flashing. “You think this was a Blood Witch?”

   I nod, fingers trembling.

   “Hannah.” Mom rests a hand on my shoulder. “There haven’t been any Blood Witches in Salem since the trials. What makes you think they’d come back now?”

   Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because Veronica and I stumbled into a turf war between a Blood Witch and a group of Casters when we went on our school trip to Manhattan last month? Maybe because said Blood Witch threatened to kill me if she ever saw me again? But I can’t say that. Any of it. “I could feel it, Mom. There was an energy to that ritual. Something more than a Reg playing a prank on us.”

   Mom considers me, her gaze sweeping across my face. I worry she’ll see all the things I’m hiding from her, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she rolls her shoulders and cups her hands together. Air swirls in the space between them, spinning faster and faster until it starts to glow. “I’ll let Lady Ariana know.”

   I swallow. Hard. If anyone can determine whether there’s a Blood Witch in town, it’s our high priestess. Unfortunately, she’s also the person most likely to sense I’m hiding something, and she’s not exactly someone whose shit list you want to be on. Ever.

   Mom whispers something into the spinning orb and sets it free. Though I can’t see or sense it—that particular skill is one I won’t learn until I’m eighteen—I know it’s traveling across town to take a message to Lady Ariana. A few seconds pass, and Mom tilts her head like she’s listening to a response. “We’ll finish brunch, then you and Veronica will show Lady Ariana what happened last night.”

   Before I can protest about the inclusion of my ex, Mom turns and carries the jelly back to the dining room; I follow, my feet dragging against the carpet. The wall zaps me with static as I brush past.

   “The closest we had in the fridge was raspberry. Is that okay?” Mom asks, her voice free from the worry that closes my throat.

   “Raspberry works.” Gemma reaches across the table and takes the jar from my mom.

   I slip into the chair next to my best friend. Her presence doesn’t do anything to dissolve the pit of worry in my stomach. I pick at the eggs on my plate. They’ve gone cold.

 

* * *

 

   • • •

   After brunch, I stall as much as I can before we have to meet Lady Ariana in the woods. When I’ve changed my outfit for the fifth time, Mom finally drags me out of the house. We drop Gemma at her place, then head for the site of last night’s bonfire. With the detour, we’re the last to arrive at the woods. Veronica and her parents—Mr. and Mrs. Matthews—are waiting outside their car, but Lady Ariana is still in her ancient Impala. It’s old enough to be rusted and rotted through, but the metal is in pristine condition. One of the many perks of being an Elemental High Priestess.

   As Dad shifts our car into park, Lady Ariana swings open her door and steps out. Her silver hair is pulled into a tight bun, the lines around her eyes and mouth set deep. She glides across the earth with the kind of grace only age and power can bestow. I hastily scramble out of our car and stand beside Veronica’s family.

   Lady Ariana stops before us; her eyes narrow, almost imperceptibly. “Show me.”

   I nod and stumble forward, Veronica close behind. Our parents wait for Lady Ariana to pass before bringing up the rear of our multigenerational investigation team. The ground before us is trampled, the grass squashed beneath the comings and goings of nearly one hundred Salem High students. With the amount of police presence last night, I’m surprised there isn’t any crime scene tape blocking off the area.

   When we reach the spot where Veronica and I fought last night, Veronica stops. “We were here when we heard the first scream.” Her voice is subdued, but I don’t trust it. She’s still wearing her graduation dress, the deep maroon beautiful against her white skin, the hem skimming the top of her knees. The clothing choice feels deliberate, like she’s trying to remind me of what I missed.

   “We followed the screams this way.” I shove past Veronica, feeling oddly underdressed in my denim shorts and the orange Salem State T-shirt Mom got me when the university bookstore was having a sale. “This is it. The raccoon was hanging there.” I point to the branch that held the sacrificial animal last night. The ground beneath is still red with blood.

   “You two,” Lady Ariana says, pointing at me and Veronica, “stay here.” Our high priestess crosses the small clearing, kneels, and places her hands just outside the pool of blood. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and that’s when the show really begins.

   Wind kicks up and swirls around us, pulling loose strands of hair out of my ponytail. Goose bumps prickle across my arms, and I shiver despite the late June heat. A slight tremor works through the earth, like the gentle ripple of a pond after a pebble’s been tossed in. The amount of magic in the clearing is heady. Intoxicating.

   After a moment, Lady Ariana stands, eyes still closed, and presses a hand against the trunk of the tree. I hold my breath, waiting as she reads the energy flowing through each ring of the tall oak.

   Mom fidgets beside me. “Was this the work of a Blood Witch?” Her voice trembles, and I wonder if she’s thinking of all those bedtime stories she told me—the ones with Blood Witches so powerful they could control your mind or stop your heart with a single thought. I wonder if she’s ever faced a Blood Witch before. If she knows how terrifying their strength and speed is. How quickly their wounds heal.

Hot Books
» House of Earth and Blood (Crescent City #1)
» A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire
» From Blood and Ash (Blood And Ash #1)
» A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime
» Deviant King (Royal Elite #1)
» Den of Vipers
» House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City #2)
» The Queen of Nothing (The Folk of the Air #
» Sweet Temptation
» The Sweetest Oblivion (Made #1)
» Chasing Cassandra (The Ravenels #6)
» Wreck & Ruin
» Steel Princess (Royal Elite #2)
» Twisted Hate (Twisted #3)
» The Play (Briar U Book 3)