Page 64 of Things Get Dark

Both women are adorned with tattoos and despite their differences, they’re obviously sisters, their beautiful faces too similar for them to be anything else. I’ve never worked with either of the Powell sisters before, but they were legendary. They were powerful healers and skilled magic welders sought by other creatures for their potions, their healthcare and charms.

The witch by the fireplace gets to her feet, her bangles and necklaces making soft jangling noises as she moves. Plucking the green bottle out of Manon’s hand, she pushes the cork back in and returns it to the shelf.

“You…you can see her?” I ask, glancing between the sisters.

“Of course.” The dark-haired one scoffs. “More importantly, why is she bound to you?”

Manon and I exchange a look. “Is there…is there something wrong with that? Witches bind with demons all the time.”

“Weak witches make deals with demons. You are not weak.” The witch waves her hand, like Manon did when she was scanning my magic, her eyes narrowing as they move over my body. “You’re the Alderidge witch, aren’t you?”

“I’manAlderidge witch, yes.”

The witch with the purple hair sighs, “Anwen, I guess it means the prophecy is about to come to pass.”

If the dark-haired witch who was now walking back to the fireplace was Anwen, that meant the color witch was Bronwyn.

“Prophecy?” Manon asks, following Anwen and perching on a stool next to the chair.

Bronwyn places a tender hand on my elbow, leading me towards the others. “Don’t you read your family grimoire?”

My cheeks flush, and I can feel how pink they are. “I haven’t–I’m not allowed…”

“Ah, of course Balthazar kept you from it. Foolish man,” Anwen hisses. “A prophecy only has power, when it’s given power. By avoiding it, all he’s done is feed it.”

Bronwyn settles me on the red sofa and conjures mugs of steaming tea for Manon and me. “Hmmmm, Anwen, didn’t you make a note of it?”

“I knew he would try to avoid his destiny. Power hungry idiot.” Anwen looks up at the ceiling, her hands bunched into tight fists. As she seems to think about it, I swear I see the snake tattoo on her neck move.

A few moments later, her eyes roll back into her head, and her whole body convulses. When she looks back at us, the whites of her eyes have vanished and it’s like I’m standing on the edge of an abyss staring into the universe. There are galaxies in the blackness of her eyes, swirls of stardust and distant planets stretching beyond this realm.

“Terrifyingly beautiful, isn’t it?” Bronwyn whispers, placing a warm hand over my shaking one.

Even Manon seems unsettled as she pushes Bronwyn’s hand off me and pulls me onto her lap. Her hands snake around my waist and hold me tightly against her chest.

Anwen’s mouth opens, but it isn’t her voice that fills the small shop. Instead, it’s a timbre that has no gender, no singlerecognizable tone, and I can feel every word right down to my core.

“Woven within the Alderidge line,

A legacy witch, dark and divine.

Twenty-one years in the making,

The familial ties of old are quaking.

Anchoring stitches shall be undone,

As witch and demon rise as one.

Their fates entwined, spun like gold,

A power unleashed, sevenfold.

Arcane threads ignite a war,

And the Alderidge dynasty will be no more.

For when the seal breaks on Halloween,

---