Page 23 of The Witch and The Blood Oath

It was in the Olde Tongue. If the legends were true, Hecate herself had taught the language to her first disciples. As I recited the spell, magic swelled. Its chords hummed across the meadow and crackled in the air. I kneeled before the pendant and placed my fingertips on it. Like a river of energy, my coven’s magic moved through me, and their voices echoed the spell. Magic roared and heated my veins, but the spell only offered glimpses of a beach, flashes of dense woods, and a moment on a raucous city street.

Without opening my eyes, I reopened the cut on my hand with my fingernail and bit back the pain. I let my blood drip ontothe pendant and coaxed more and more magic into the object. As I repeated the incantation, I willed the pendant to find its owner.

All at once, I was pulled out of my body.

On four legs, I raced through familiar woods. Rich, vivid scents flooded my nostrils, and greenery blurred by. I scented the air for prey and luxuriated in the strength coursing through my limbs. A deer caught my attention, and I took chase.

The next breath, I was no longer in the forest but in the middle of the ocean. Endless sea surrounded me, and the sun reflected in its depths. My hand grasped a warm, metal railing. As I basked in the gentle ocean spray, I was transported once again.

Someone bumped into me and muttered an apology in a thick Cajun accent. Alcohol, vomit, piss, and a mingling of too many perfumes wafted down the crowded street. Semi-naked people danced on balconies and threw beads at one another. I searched for an indicator of where exactly I was, though I already had my suspicions. I spotted a black and white street sign.

Bourbon Street.

As I crashed back into my kneeling body, I gasped. Only my coven’s ragged breaths filled the air.

“Was that—” Walker gasped. “Was that normal?”

I shook my head. Though I was the one who had attempted to guide what we saw, from the shocked looks on their faces, everyone involved had seen what I’d seen. I wasn’t sure if I was more frightened or relieved that my coven was as bewildered as I was.

“You’re supposed to get one location,” Gloria explained. “I’ve never…I’ve never seen so many places in a single tracking spell.”

Gloria was nearly seven-hundred years old.

She’d seen a lot.

My phone rang and interrupted the stark silence. I almost ignored it, but instinct drove me to dig it out of my pocket. The name on the screen surprised me.

Ryder.

“Answer it,” Lyra encouraged behind me.

“Hello,” I said into the phone.

“Frey,” Ryder said gruffly. “Why did I just feel a damned tracking spell on me?”

???

Walker

Freya’s whole body tensed, and the magic-induced flush across her cheeks paled. “Ryder.”

I was never particularly happy to hear Ryder’s name, and today was no exception. Gasps echoed across the field of witches. A heartbeat later, I understood.

Was Ryder thechimera?

I quickly discredited the idea. The High Witch had claimed the chimera shape-shifted into the beast on the pendant, not into a wolf. Unless Ryder wielded some dangerous power I had failed to recognize, I wasn’t sure what he had to do with any of this.

Ryder’s harsh words were loud enough to be heard through the phone. “You know my damn name. You also have my number, so why didn’t you just call? Would that have upset Walter?”

I rolled my eyes. Ryder knewmydamn name too. On second thought, turning over Ryder sounded like an easy route to a job well done.

“We need to talk,” Freya clipped, “in person. Can you come to our apartments?”

He hesitated. “Our old meeting spot. See you in twenty.”

As my mind turnedour old meeting spotover and over, Ryder hung up.

“You should take back-up,” Gloria encouraged. “He’s involved with this somehow.”

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