Page 92 of Soul of a Witch

I imagined myself vanishing into the brick, my body clear as glass, my breathing utterly silent. A cold feeling settled over me, but I refused to let it shake me. I held my concentration as Juniper appeared at the mouth of the alley.

She paused, and although I felt like she was staring right at me, her brow furrowed with confusion. She approached slowly, looking around with every step. She kept coming closer…closer. Beneath her jacket, I could see the handle of a knife holstered on her belt.

Why the hell had she come back to Abelaum? She had left years ago. She knew the true danger that lurked here. Yet she’d returned…

But of course. Her brother. Marcus.

They’d killed him, and it summoned her like an angel of vengeance.

She stopped just a few feet away from me. Her frown deepened, and she reached out, muttering softly, “No fucking way…”

My magic shattered, and her eyes widened in shock as I reappeared. I shoved her back, magic pummeling her chest like a cudgel so I could run, but her hand snapped out, grabbing the strap of my bag. She was so strong, her teeth bared with the effort to drag me back toward her.

I tugged with all my might, ripping open my bag and sending my possessions tumbling to the rain-soaked ground. It gave me the seconds I needed to get away. I fled out of the alley, dodging into the first sheltered doorway I spotted.

“Back to the house,” I whispered desperately. “The house, the house. Back to Callum.Please.”

I wasn’t proud of myself for literally begging my magic to work — but it did, and the next thing I knew, I was stumbling into the foyer of the coven house.

“Callum!” No sooner was his name out of my mouth than he appeared before me, clutching me with concern. The radio was in the kitchen, and my grandmother called out, “What on Earth is happening out there? Everly! Come, speak to me at once!”

In true grandmotherly fashion, Grams wouldn’t let me explain until my rain-soaked body was wrapped in a blanket, seated in front of the kitchen’s hearth with a hot cup of tea in my hands. At least by the time I was comfortably warm, I could manage to get the story out without the words shaking too much.

“A woman out for vengeance is a very dangerous thing,” Grams said. “And you’ve had visions of her accompanied by a demon…that makes her even more of a threat.”

“It doesn’t matter who accompanies this woman,” Callum said. He was leaning against the counter, arms folded, wings rigidly tense. “Anyone who attempts to harm my witch will not live. We will be rid of this problem by tonight. It will not take me long to find her —”

“No!” Callum stared at me. “Don’t go after her. She won’t harm me, she —”

“You said she pursued youviciously.” Callum pushed away from the counter, stalking closer to me. “She is a threat to you. Why ignore a threat when I can dispose of it?”

“She doesn’t know where I am.” Memories of that night in St. Thaddeus, when Juniper was cut and marked for the God, kept replaying in mind. The screams…fuck, those horrible screams… “She’s not a threat to me right now. Not here. She has no reason to come after me.”

“Vengeance is a powerful drive,” Callum said slowly. He was displeased, and the air around him shimmered with furious power. “Do not allow guilt to cloud your thinking.”

Holding his gaze, I said with as much fierceness as I could, “Donotgo after her. Leave her alone. She’s been through enough.”

His fingers twitched. He looked away from me, jaw clenched.

Then, softly, he said, “As you command.”

32

Everly

It was strange to set foot on the university campus again. Even with my hood up and sunglasses on, I felt too exposed.

What was even stranger was seeing Callum look so human. He’d disguised himself for our outing — no wings, no claws. He’d shrunk his towering height to a somewhat modest six foot two inches. But his eyes were the most shocking change. Caramel-colored pupils made his boyishly handsome face look even younger.

He had offered to go to the library alone, but when I asked what he would do if the librarian refused to give him access to the Leighman Company records, he said, “Then I will persuade them to cooperate.”

Knowing that Callum’s methods of persuasion were likely to involve death and dismemberment, I made the decision to go with him then and there.

“I never said I would kill your little librarian friend, Everly,” he said, as we made our way across campus. It was the third time he’d tried to assure me, and the third time I was not even slightly convinced to the contrary. “Persuasion can take many forms. Mild torture is far more effective than death.”

Stopping abruptly, I turned and looked at him, folding my arms. “No torturing either! This is why I came with you. You think you can handle every situation with violence.”

He looked at me skeptically. “Every situationcanbe handled with violence. It’s not a theory; it’s a fact.”

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