“You are not getting out of those hex bracelets until I get what I want.”
I nod, not sure if having the hex bracelets on would hinder me from summoning my old pal Lucy or not. I don’t have the slightest inkling of how to fake a Satanic ritual…but I might be able to get ahold of someone who can.
“I’ll need proof,” I say as Ruth heads toward the office door. “Proof Evander is okay.”
“Fine. I’ll give you two minutes with him. Then it’ll be time to hold up your end of the bargain.”
She uses magic to open and close the office doors. I let my eyes fall closed and suck in air. I’m on the verge of hyperventilating, and the hexes are starting to feel oppressive, holding back my natural powers that want to be released right now. The hexes ward off witchcraft, but I have such a strong feeling I’m not really just a witch.
Forcing myself to calm the fuck down, I take a few minutes focusing on my breathing. Once my heart isn’t racing and the taste of vomit has receded from my mouth, I close my eyes and think of Binx, trying to mentally call for him. It’s hard to do from inside the Covenstead, and an ordinary witch probably couldn’t do this.
But like Ruth said, I’m no ordinary witch.
“Come on, come on,” I mutter. “Binx, can you hear me?”
I get a big fat nothing.
My thoughts shift to Lucas, to his handsome face. Eyes as blue as the ocean at night. His devilish smile.
“Get it together,” I tell myself and shift my thoughts back to my black cat. Just thinking about my familiar brings me a sense of peace. I can feel him rubbing his head against me. Hear his purring. I see him clearly in my mind, sitting on the dark back porch, staring into the night.
Suddenly, his tail twitches.
Callie
Yes! We’ve made a connection. He can hear me.
Things are bad, I tell him.
I’m coming, he responds, voice just a harrowing echo inside my own head.
Don’t be seen.
I open my eyes and feel a little dizzy. Letting out a breath, I look at the hagstone hexes on my wrists. I can’t touch the hexes with my fingers, but I wonder…no, it wouldn’t work. My powers of telekinesis come from being a witch. And the charms specifically block out witchcraft.
I lean back and stare out the window, feeling like eternity is crawling by. Everything is so quiet, though I don’t know what I expect to hear. A group of witches shouting the power of Christ compels you at Evander as his head turns all the way around and he spits out pea soup at everyone?
“Please, please let him be okay,” I pray to no one in particular. The image of the blue-eyed man flashes before me. “Just let Evander be okay. I’ll take whatever sentences comes my way, just keep Evander safe.”
I let my eyes fall shut and squeeze my fingers into the palm of my hand. Everything is going to be okay. It has to be. Evander will make a full recovery, and if he’s lucky, will have no memory of the demon forcing itself inside his body.
My eyes open and the anxiety I was trying to shake off comes back tenfold. That demon specifically sought out a body that I knew. It wanted me to team up with it and seemed pretty damn convinced that if we worked together, we’d be unstoppable. I squeeze my eyes closed again.
“I’m not evil. I’m not evil,” I whisper to myself.
“Of course you’re not,” a familiar voice echoes throughout the room.
“Binx!”
His shadow turns into cat-form and he jumps onto my lap, purring.
“I’m so fucking glad you’re here,” I tell him. “Ruth thinks I’m working with the Devil and wants me to arrange a meet-and-greet. Obviously I can’t do that but I agreed anyway so she’d go assist on the exorcism. Evander will be saved at least, but then I…I…I don’t know.”
Binx rubs his head against me and jumps off my lap, turning back into his true form. Red eyes glow before me, and an idea takes shape. To anyone else, Binx would be terrifying. He’s old and ancient and has legions of spirits under his command.
“We could trick her,” I start.
“She’s never met the Devil,” Binx finishes.
“If we can get Pandora and Freya in on this…”
“It will work,” we say at the same time.
I let out a sigh of relief, though we’re far from the light at the end of the tunnel. But it’s a start, at least. There’s no promise the Devil will work with any witch, which is only one of the reasons the Grand Coven has outlawed Satanism.
“We’re going to need Lucas,” I tell Binx, hating what I’m saying. But I don’t know any other way around this. “We need proof that Ruth wants to make a deal with the Devil. If he can record her doing—I don’t know—anything incriminating, we can present it to the Grand Coven and get her stripped of her title and powers, which would stop her from sentencing me.”
Binx nods, agreeing with me. “I will go inform the others of our plan.” He shifts back into a cat and moves onto my lap again. He bites the hexes around my wrist, freeing me from the hagstone.
“Thank you,” I tell him, feeling a load better from not having my powers bound. Binx rubs his head against me once more, reminding me that I’m not alone. I hug him, taking solace in his soft, sleek fur. I give him a kiss and release him, letting him jump back into shadow form to relay our message to the others.
I take the hexes and lay them out on Evander’s desk. Pacing back and forth, I attempt to quiet my thoughts and fail. This plan better work. Because if it doesn’t…I have no fucking clue what I’ll do.
“Does she actually have evidence?” I mutter to myself, pausing by the large window. I look out at the dark, empty courtyard. There aren’t many students at Grim Gate Academy in the summer to begin with. I spent most of my summers here, with the exception of the one time I went home to see my sister.
I missed her. As nice as it was to get away from my fucking awful father and brother, I missed Abby. At first it was too risky to return home. I knew magic but wasn’t strong enough to fight off my father. But the next year…that year I could have. Yet Tabatha didn’t want me returning home. She accompanied me back to Chicago in late July so I could see Abby on her birthday.
I’ll never forget the terrified looks on my father and Scott’s faces as we all sat in the formal living room of my parents’ overly ostentatious house. The thought, actually, still brings a smile to my face. It was the first time I sat in my father’s company and felt like I was the one on top.
I had the advantage.
He’d called me a freak. Said I was nature’s mistake.
But coming back with Tabatha…I was a witch. A witch with powers that could destroy them. My father and Scott already feared me. And Tabatha…Tabatha fucking terrified them more than any nightmare ever could.
I didn’t return home on my own until I was sixteen and more than powerful enough to hold my ground. Tabatha and Evander were spending a few weeks in Europe, meeting with other Academy professors and visiting family. I was certain I could hold my own…and then I met Easton.
The charming, off-limits, bad boy my parents would have hated for me to be seen with. It was a big deal to the press that I was back home in Chicago. My father had already woven the tale that I was off in some third-world country volunteering, giving my all to the less fortunate. Being seen with someone like Easton Parker was the last thing dear old dad would have wanted for me.
I came back for the summer to spend it with my sister. I missed Abby so fucking much and our parents made it almost impossible to communicate while I was at the Academy. The day after I arrived, my father arranged an internship at a hospital. Abby wanted to be a doctor back then, and shadowing a world-renowned trauma specialist was a dream come true.
&
nbsp; My father did it on purpose, I know that now. I came back to see Abby and he sent her away. That’s how my father is. Pretending to benefit one person only to hurt another. So I was left there, alone in that big house, for weeks until I could return to Thorne Hill.
Easton was everything I wanted and everything I didn’t need. The bad boy who could piss off my parents. The rebel who could sneak me out of my bedroom window and show me how fun life without magic could be. The handsome boy who’d seen so much, who made me feel more than I could ever imagine.
And the witch hunter who was ordered to kill me.
I tear my eyes away from the courtyard, not wanting to get stuck in another memory. Though if it’s about Grim Gate, there’s a good chance it will be a good one. Nothing will ever replace the feeling of walking through the door for the very first time.
I felt like I was finally home, amongst other people just like me.
Only, that feeling wore off before the first year was through. Because, as Ruth said, I had talents that far surpassed the ordinary witches of Grim Gate Academy.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. How the hell am I supposed to fake summoning the Devil? With my powers being a little unpredictable, I have no idea what would actually happen if I did a fake summoning. I don’t want to actually summon anything…let alone the Devil.
I sink down onto a velvet settee in front of the window and run my fingers over the dark purple velvet. There have only been firsthand accounts recorded about what happens when the Devil is summoned, and no one knows exactly how accurate those accounts are.
No one knows for sure what he looks like. Some reports describe him the way pop culture does. Tall, horned, with the face of a goat and the body of a lamb. Others describe him as a handsome man in a suit. We went over it briefly in my advanced-level defensive magic class, and it’s one of those subjects the professors here don’t like to talk about in fear it could encourage an impressionable young witch or wizard to seek out more power.
I put my head in my hands and let out a shaky breath. If there were a time to tap into whatever the hell language Lucas said he heard me speaking, it’s now. Because I really am afraid I’ll open a rift to the underworld when I pretend to summon the Devil.