The Ravens (The Ravens #1) - Kass Morgan Page 0,75

candles.

Vivi wished someone would enchant the candles to provide more light, as the flames did little to illuminate the darkness beyond the walls of the greenhouse. Although she was surrounded by a coven of powerful witches, she still felt exposed and vulnerable standing next to the glass wall. Someone had managed to gain entry to Kappa House despite its myriad magical protections. And that meant whoever it was could do it again. Was this what her mother had foreseen weeks ago? Or was there still more—something worse—yet to come?

The decision not to go to the police worried her. She understood Dahlia’s reasoning for following the instructions in the note. Plus, whoever had taken Tiffany had done so by employing wicked magic, rendering the police pretty much useless. But a girl was missing and her kidnapper was still out there. Someone who’d promised to come back for more Ravens.

Dahlia moved into the center of the circle and knelt to examine a cauldron Etta had filled with a brew of red wine made from grapes that grew wild in a graveyard in Burgundy, mugwort, and cedar to enhance visions.

“Sisters,” Dahlia said as she stood back up. “Join me.”

The girls moved in until they’d packed themselves as tight and close to Dahlia as they could. Overhead, the storm battered the windows with frenzied abandon.

“Tonight, we seek she who has been stolen from us.” Dahlia raised her hand, revealing something clutched in her fist. Vivi’s stomach lurched. It was a torn shred of Tiffany’s bedspread, parts of the white satin stained almost black with dried blood. “We seek news of our sister—of who did this to her and whether she is still in danger.”

Dahlia opened her fist and let the fabric flutter down into the cauldron; the unstained portions of the material turned dark red as the wine seeped into the satin.

The other girls began to hum, and Vivi felt the telltale throb of energy in her chest. For the first time, she was afraid to let it spread through her body. She’d seen the ugly side of magic tonight, and she wasn’t eager to open herself up to something that could be so dangerous. But as she clutched Ariana’s hand, Vivi reminded herself that finding Tiffany was worth every risk.

“I call to all the Queens, ancient as the dawn,” Dahlia whispered. “Show us the sister who is missing and gone.”

The rain picked up and the humming was nearly drowned out by the shriek of the wind rattling the glass panes of the greenhouse. Then the cauldron began to glow from within as the liquid started to bubble and boil; the dark red-wine mixture turned thick and black as tar. An image appeared on the uneven surface, and although the face was distorted by the rippling liquid, there was no doubt who it was.

Scarlett let out an anguished cry at the sight of her best friend. Bright red scratches raked down both sides of Tiffany’s face, bloody streaks from her temples to her chin. Her mouth was gagged, her eyes wide with fear as she struggled against some kind of invisible bond.

“Oh my God,” Ariana whispered as tears began to stream down her face. “We have to help her. Now.”

“Show us who did this,” Dahlia commanded, an edge of desperation in her deep, sonorous voice.

A plume of smoke rose out of the cauldron, and a pungent, rotten stench hit Vivi with the force of a wave. She covered her face and stumbled back while a few of the other girls gagged.

The smoke grew thicker until, with a sound like eardrums popping, the cauldron exploded, showering a portion of the circle with scalding liquid. Dahlia yelped and winced as she muttered a healing spell; next to her, Mei did the same for Jess, who was clutching her wrist, her face contorted in pain. Vivi turned around to help Hazel and Reagan extinguish the candles that had tipped over and now threatened to set some of the drier plants alight. “What was that?” Vivi asked once the candles had been snuffed out.

“That,” Dahlia replied, her hoarse voice sounding in the darkness, “was wicked magic.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Scarlett

“Tiffany, wherever you are . . . we’re coming for you . . .”

Scarlett stared at the bright morning light filtering through her balcony doors. She’d locked them tight when she returned to her room after they’d cast the spell. Or tried to cast it, rather. Dahlia was right—wicked magic had interfered with the spellcasting, just as it had when Scarlett had