From the floors to the tall columns and walls, the framed windows, and even the curved dome ceiling, the design followed the lines of a Merkaba star. The symbol of light, spirit, and body created a 3-dimensional energy field of protection, and it reminded us of the potential power we could wield when we united our own energies in pursuit of connection and growth.
“Wow,” Alysah whispered in awe, and I agreed.
Undoubtedly, the place was a work of art, but most of all, it was a call of unity for my kind. It also housed the biggest collection of mystical books, family grimoires, and spells in the world since our race began. From the very first stone-carved spells of the Origin Witches, to enchantment scrolls, to the most recent additions to our mastery.
My eyes admired every inch of beauty as we all gathered in the great library. The treasured bookcases filled with our history, present, and written visions of our future rose all the way up to the fifth floor, curving around the circular room like the expanse of the universe, and making me want to move there permanently. I had only been to the palace three times in my nineteen years of life, and each time, it robbed me of breath.
I wondered what it would feel like to enter this place freely, of my own will, and spend hours on end reading the grimoires of the greatest Witches ever to exist.
So much knowledge. So much power. So much truth.
Now, those were role models I would learn from eagerly, not the professors at the local conservatory of magick.
Unfortunately, the sight and awe of this magnificent place weren’t enough to vanish the mixture of anger and unease that churned in my insides, not today. Mother was one of the two most formidable Witches alive. She was also a Shadow Bringer, which meant every magick deed she performed was aimed to disrupt the human and preternatural worlds. Still, that was expected. What I needed to know was why we were here today.
We Built This City by Starship thumped in my earbuds as we waited for the room to fill, and with all kinds of powers and volatile personalities on the spectrum under one roof, that fact became abundantly clear. We had built this city after it was almost brought to ruins by the fear and greed of humanity.
Grimoire note: To understand Salem Witches, you first have to forget everything you heard about us. We are not a myth. We weren't killed during the trials. We thrive through the ancient lifeforce of fire and ice that courses through our veins, fueling our energies now more than ever.
Truth be told, Salem’s past left an ever-present scar on us, one passed down through generations, which made other supernatural races see us as “temperamental” or “easily offended.” While that might be partially true—our kind wasn’t exactly known for its patience—it made us overprotective of our Witches, Wizards, Warlocks, and even the Voodoo King.
It also made us stronger, bringing light and dark Witches together for the first time since the beginning of our history with the Origin Witches. And—
“He’s here!” Alysah’s mother of all screeches blared through my earbud and into my eardrum while she tried—and failed—to contain her excitement.
“Aaand… I’m deaf,” I declared, pulling out the wireless buds and rubbing the tender spot. The mystical energy awoke in my fingers instinctively, sending a small surge to my inner ear, taking care of the ringing her statement had left.
There was no use in asking who she was talking about, though. The chorus of hormone-induced sighs coming from the teenage Witches all around us spoke for itself. My gaze shifted to my right, to the entrance of the castle, as the large double doors flew wide open. Elearah Whyte, the Sapphire Witch, entered the space… with her son in tow.
“Oh, my Goddess. Look at him!” Alysah whisper-screamed, this time tugging the sleeve of my leather jacket like a crazy person. “Oh, dear Freya, please make him look this way.”
“Get a hold of yourself, woman!” I snapped. Pulling my arm away from her frantic grasp, I put up my wards—I sometimes let them slip when I was with her or Sariah, clearly a mistake. Alysah was like that SNL character, Surprise Lady Sue, who could never quite contain her excitement.
She cringed, holding her hands behind her before I zapped her to the snake pits and back. “Shit. Sorry. I know you don’t like to be touched. I just got a little overexcited.”
“You don’t say?” Sariah snorted sarcastically, and totally amused.
I huffed, fixing my jacket. Me not wanting to be touched was a whole other issue, for a whole other time. My amethyst eyes connected with molten-mercury irises as he casually swaggered through the foyer and into the library.
Connhor Whyte. The Silver Wizard.
Also, the biggest heartthrob in Salem, Massachusetts.
Grimoire note: Fine. I should probably add one more rule to being an evil Witch… Never date a light Wizard. Like, ever.
Time might have as well slowed as he walked in, his gaze focusing on me. Connhor’s intense eyes found me instantly as though he’d known the exact spot where I’d be standing all along. If I were honest with myself, I’d have to admit that my heart shook a little when I saw him; he had a sort of dominant air to him that naturally exuded from his pores.
Except, I was never honest with myself. In fact, I was planning on riding the denial train all the way downtown.
Still, tall, dark, and handsome wasn’t even a fair description for him. Connhor Whyte was adopted—the only Wizard or Witch ever to be adopted. Originally born in Spain, his Spanish roots showed clearly in the dark brown hair, the golden-tanned skin he didn’t even bother to sunbathe for, and his unnaturally translucent gray eyes.
Dressed in dark jeans, a grayish-blue T-shirt, and a rider leather jacket, he was like the perfect mix between James Dean and Jensen Ackles.
Bloody pantyless ghosts. The guy was making it very difficult for me to ignore that last, but very important, self-enforced rule. Not that I would ever admit that to anyone… alive or dead.
After a few nerve-wracking seconds, Connhor’s eyes shifted to my left, and the corner of his lips tilted up as he looked at Alysah. Giving her a small greeting nod, he sent a playful wink to Sariah, who exchanged a friendly smile with him. She was probably the only girl here not struggling to breathe, on a count of being friends with him for years, and seeing him almost every day.
Time resumed once his attention left us, and he walked into the assembly pavilion with his mother. Everyone began to follow.
“Oh, my Freya. He smiled at me. Did you see that? Connhor Whyte said ‘hi’ to me!” Alysah sighed.
My eyes rolled back so far that I almost saw my brain. “I think it’s safe to say he knows you; you are dating his best friend, after all. You know, Thyler, in case you forgot.” A chuckle escaped me when she glared at me.
“One, we are not exclusive yet. And two, I know, but still.” She fanned herself. “I don’t think there’s a girl who can resist that. You have to admit it. He’s super dreamy.”
“Dreamy?” I fake-scoffed. “What a cliché.” She gave me the evil eye while I suppressed a smile. “I really need to stop hanging out with Light Bearers. You are too impressionable.”
“I guess it’s a good thing we can only stand you about half the time,” Sariah added, not buying into my blasé attitude.
I smirked at her comment. “Are you sure you are not a Shadow Bringer? You are way too sarcastic to be a light Witch. I mean, you are almost as cynical as me. Almost.”