Page 5 of Wolf Tamer

Fear slithers through me, coiling around my heart and squeezing tight.

I’ll never get to see my baby sister again. I know she’s alive, even if I haven’t found her in all of my searching. Call it a gut feeling.

Just like my gut is telling me that no matter what I try, I’m not getting out of this pickle.

I shake my hand against the pins-and-needles sensation. “If you don’t work now, then you’re worse than useless.” I glare down at my palms and crossed legs. “Useless. And after all the jobs you’ve done, that would be a terrible thing to call yourself. You’re a gifted killer and so much more.”

The little pep talk doesn’t do the trick like I intended, but… instead of going invisible the way I always have, a spark bursts to life above my palm. One right after the other, they flash like shooting stars.

The sight is so unexpected that I jump, cracking my skull into the wall and seeing more stars. The ones dancing around the corners of my vision are nothing compared to the ones that crackle and flutter in the air above my outstretched palm. They’re actually dancing in real life. Tiny, little starlike sparks in shades of orange and red and gold, spiraling into the air and winking out of existence right before they hit the ceiling.

Magic.

It’s magic and it’s mine and it’s out of left field.

My witch magic that I’ve never been able to activate.

Untilnow, apparently.

Holy shit, what is happening? Warmth replaces the fear around my heart until it feels like I’m floating, my magic beautiful and pure and so damn unexpected that I want to cry out.

I stare at my palm with my jaw hanging open, wondering how I’m doing this and unable to locate the source inside myself. It’sallof me. And this isn’t like my invisibility, not at all, although I can sense the magic tied to my soul in the exact same way.

It’s like being right-handed my entire life and suddenly waking up and writing with my left hand.

A beautiful surprise.

The sparks die almost as soon as they’re born, and it seems that the moment I actually tune into my witch magic, it disintegrates, splintering into a million different pieces as though nothing ever happened.

“No, no.”

My quick, under-the-breath demands do nothing to help me hold on, and suddenly it seems as though the source of the magic is just outside my reach. The more I scramble to get a hold on it, the farther away it gets, until the sparks are gone. They aren’t coming back anytime soon.

Suddenly exhausted, I flop until the back of my skull hits the wall again. Pain shoots through me at the contact, and I wince. “Whoa.”

I have no fucking clue how to use my witch magic. I’ve never used it before in my life—well, outside of a few failed attempts during my coven days. I remember the witches of my parents’ generation crowding around me and forcing me to speak certain incantations aloud, hoping to push me into the well of magic that was supposed to be my birthright.

The moment Carmen began to manifest her own powers, they forgot about me. They didn’t give a shit about Tasha Ward.

Shock turns the pit of my stomach into Antarctica.

I thought all of my witch magic was gone for good.

My parents had been active members of the Buson Coven until their death, but they’d never pushed the issue once it became clear my powers were not going to manifest in any significant way.

For it to show itself now—

Is it a good sign or a bad sign? I have no idea. Even though it’s a small spark, not enough to do anything with, it’s something. It’s more than I’ve been able to do until now, and it might just mark my salvation if I can get it to happen again.

Well damn.

At least something good has happened today. With my impending stake burning,thisseems like a pretty dismal silver lining, but it’s there nonetheless, and I grab onto it. I clasp it tightly to my heart and search for that last shred of hope that manifested along with the sparks.

It’s time for me to readjust, reevaluate, and hopefully, get the fuck out of here before someone gleefully lights the first match.

ChapterThree

Reid

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