Page 29 of Wolf's Witch

When we got to the lobby, we said our goodbyes to the werewolves and to Amelia and Michaela. Then I took Lillian out to my car. She got inside and waited for me to close the door before laying out potential plans for the ceremony that would elevate me to the high priestess of the Coven of Light.

I tried to listen, but it was hard to focus. Between my worry for Lillian’s health and my concern that my magic might not be strong enough to lead the coven, I was running out of places to mentally compartmentalize things.

And that didn’t even touch on the vision of my upcoming death.

“Ruby? Is something wrong?”

I almost flinched. “No. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” She reached over to pat my leg. “Maybe Amelia can come in and be the psychic reader at the shop today. You’ve got a lot on your plate.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I can handle it.”

I wasn’t sure why I didn’t tell her about the vision. I guess saying the words out loud felt like I would be giving it power. Either way, I kept it to myself.

When we got to Lillian’s house, I helped her up the steps and to her couch. “Do you need hot tea?”

She shook her head. “I need some sleep. They woke me up at least once every hour last night to take my vitals. I’m exhausted.”

I went to her guest room and brought her a pillow and blanket. “I’m going to ask Amelia to come by in a few hours to check on you.”

She looked as though she was about to resist, but my determination must’ve been written all over my face because she finally nodded. “All right. Thank you, Ruby.”

“You have your cell phone?”

She took it out of her pocket and held it up. “Right here.”

“And it’s turned on and charged?”

She rolled her eyes. “I can cast a telepath spell just as easily.”

“But pressing my name on a phone takes less energy.”

She set the phone on the table. “Okay, now let me get some sleep.”

I smiled. “Call me if you need me.”

The Crow’s Nestwas busy today, making the hours fly by. I finished my final reading of the day and checked the clock. I still had time to get some food before meeting Zeke at the fountain. Not that I was counting down the minutes.

But I couldn’t lie about being eager to see him again. With the tempest of change swirling around both of us, he was the only person who could really relate to what I was going through. His clumsy apology this morning had been sweet, and the truth was, I probably owed him one, too. In hindsight, I had definitely overreacted when I locked myself in the shop, but in my defense, that kiss had been intoxicating and my body’s reaction to him had overwhelmed me and sent me running so I could catch my breath.

I pulled my wrap tight around my bare shoulders and walked over to the Witch City Mall. The cold had chased most people off the streets. Even the ghost tours were small groups of two or three couples instead of thirty or forty tourists. I found a table inside the Village Tavern, ordered my food, and opened my e-reader app on my phone.

Lately, I’d been obsessed with digging into the craft and its history. Most of the books either missed the mark or focused on Wicca, which wasn’t our coven’s magical practice at all. The Coven of Light could trace our bloodlines back to the early colonies, back to Proctor’s Ledge.

But my ancestors had never made any deals with the Devil as the Puritans had feared. Magic had come to Salem through a gateway between dimensions hidden in the woods. My ancestors had mingled with the Fae, probably unknowingly, but I couldn’t be certain of that. The touch of magic in my blood gave my words power. Once the Gaelic spells were whispered out loud, the elements came together at our command. Magic was ignited. Beyond that, I didn’t have an explanation. But I wanted one. Maybe it was human nature to want to understand every step of the recipe.

Our magic sprang from that power flowing through our veins. And in the secret places of my heart, my faith in it was shaken. I yearned to find a way to amplify my magic and make it stronger. I never wanted to feel the terror I’d felt that night in Boston.

Everyone in our coven had Fae in their ancestry, and each of us tapped into our power through different elements. But there were a few of our members who didn’t need spells at all. It was rare, but with a higher concentration of Fae blood, some were elevated to Elemental Witches. They didn’t need to verbalize anything to connect with their power. A thought or intention was enough.

We had two Elementals in the Coven of Light: Amelia and Winter, fire and ice. Lillian suspected Michaela might be an Elemental too, but we weren’t positive yet. I’d thought Lillian would pick Amelia or Winter as her successor, but instead, she’d chosen me.

The door opened, and a gust of icy wind blew through my hair, sending a shiver down my back. This was an unseasonably cold April. I glanced up as a man stopped in front of the hostess station. He had the collar of his coat flipped up, and his short white hair was disheveled from the wind.

I didn’t recognize him. Not that it meant anything. Salem wasn’t such small a town that I knew everyone, plus there were always tourists, but the historic district here on Essex Street was a tight-knit community.

And this man wasn’t part of it. But he also didn’t look like a tourist.

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