I had seen the ink on my flesh dance across my hips and up my sides, moving down my arms.
I hadn’t imagined that.
If I wanted to remain sane, I needed to believe, at least about this shared delusion.
Because fighting it more would only hurt.
“There’s so much for you to understand, Sage,” Aunt Penelope said as she sighed, then took another sip of her coffee. “And I hope to tell you all of it. Although, Rowen and Laurel might be the best for that.”
“Are they both witches, then?” I asked, trying to keep up.
“Yes, though there are some things I can’t talk about as it’s not my history to share. Nor my secrets.”
“There seemed to be something there.” I cleared my throat. Laurel seemed so angry. And yet, so had Rowen. I could practically feel the hurt radiating off them. I had always been good with emotions and feelings. I was empathic, at least in the sense that I could usually understand what broke others inside. When I lost Rupert, I had shattered within, trying to keep up with my emotions. Yet the grief surrounding me from everyone else had nearly drowned me.
I had left Virginia for many reasons, but now it felt as if I were coming home. I would say it didn’t make any sense. And yet, it had to. All of this needed to be oddly logical.
My aunt sighed after taking her sip of coffee. “It hasn’t been easy with those two. Honestly, it hasn’t been easy with the town for a while.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, tension gripping me.
“There’s much that Rowen and the others will want to tell you, but the town used to have a lot more witches. Over time, the magic began to fade. Our town does its best to protect those around us, but that’s not always something fate allows. There are so many types of supernatural creatures. Bears, wolves, dryads. So many. But witches founded this town, even though most of the witches left are latent like me.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I said.
“Latent means that I have some power, I’m good with herbs, with finding the right book for the right person through intuition. But I don’t have the same elemental power that strong witches like Rowen do. Like Laurel did.”
“Shehadpower?” I asked, worry for the woman I had met echoing in my veins.
“She did. But as I said, it’s her story to tell. Rowen is the strongest of us all and protects us with everything she can. There’s only so much she can do without a full coven of strength, though. She’s lost so much, and I know she is at the end of her rope. She does her best, but now that you’re here, well, I had thoughtmaybeyou were the one they talked about. The one they hoped for. But I hadn’t known you would be this strong.”
I blinked. “I’m not strong, Aunt Penelope. Not even a little. I broke when Rupert died.”
“I know you hate the wordstrongbecause that’s what everyone calls you when they see you trying to make a life for yourself, trying to rise from the ashes of what you had to become after losing your husband. And I’ll try not to use that word when it comes to you. But the power within you? There is no other word for it. There is so much potential.”
“I have tattoos that move, and I seemed to have messed with the water in Rome’s home. I don’t know what kind of strength you mean.”
“You’ll see.”
“Yes, she will,” Rowen said from the doorway.
I blinked, practically falling as I moved quickly to face her.
“Did you just pop out of thin air?” Visions of witches from TV shows who did that or showed up by wiggling their noses or blinking filled my brain.
I swore Rowen could see what I thought as a smile quirked her lips. “No, I used the door. Your aunt didn’t lock it.”
Aunt Penelope rolled her eyes. “You said you were on your way, and you can pick a lock in this house quicker than anyone I know. Maybe not Laurel. She always did have a knack for that.”
Rowen sighed. “That is true. However, you should keep your doors locked, just in case. You never know what might be coming these days.”
“Aunt Penelope mentioned the darkness,” I said, wondering when I had fallen into this nightmare that I now believed to be real.
“Yes, there’s that. And though this town may believe in its magic and can protect itself, strangers drive through who don’t understand what they see. My wards can keep them steady, can keep those under our power protected, but I need a full coven to keep it strong. As it is, Jaxton has to do a little bit of cleanup every once in a while.”
“Jaxton? Isn’t that the man Aunt Penelope said has my car?”
“Yes, he’s a fixer. Much like Rome.”