This Coven Won't Break - Isabel Sterling Page 0,28

the fall recital. You could help me practice.”

Her body seems to melt as she progresses through the first few combinations, and even without the music, she’s mesmerizing. The arch of her back, the way her socked feet glide across the polished floor . . . I wish I had my sketchpad. I don’t know if I could ever capture such elegance in still form, but goddess I want to try.

She stops suddenly, breaking the spell. “Or . . .” Morgan steps forward and bends until her face is level with mine. “Since Gemma isn’t here to interrupt us, we could make out.”

“Yes,” I say, all thoughts of sketching gone completely. “That. I choose that.”

* * *

A few hours later, we emerge onto the hotel roof. Strings of lights hang above us like little electric stars, and the rows of picnic tables are covered with soft silver-and-black cloths. At the center of each table sits a flickering candle.

My pulse lurches when I spot the flames, but Morgan is there with a squeeze of my hand. I try to breathe deep, searching for comfort in the air, but even though my magic is working with Morgan beside me, the energy is different here than in Salem. It’s too busy, too full of conversation. Its vibration too quick.

I glance to Sarah to see how she’s fairing under the crush of the city, especially since she normally has such a strong connection to air. There’s a tension to her shoulders that isn’t normally there, but otherwise she seems fine.

She catches me staring and offers a small smile. “You have to disconnect,” she whispers, leaning close. “That’s the only way to survive a place like this.”

Morgan points to a set of tables near the middle of the rows. “There are two spots there.” She frowns. “But the next closest spot is a few tables over.”

“That’s fine,” Sarah says. “I can’t believe it’s this packed already.” She maneuvers away from us, taking the solo space while Morgan and I hurry to the two seats at the center table.

My phone buzzes, and I pull it out to find a series of texts from Detective Archer.

DA: Good luck tonight. Try to enjoy the show.

DA: See if you can get a feel for her. If Alice seems skittish, you can have Sarah wait outside while you talk. Don’t overwhelm her.

DA: Cal confirmed the room number. It’s still the same.

Archer’s encouragement only makes me more nervous. I know how much is riding on this, but it’s clear he wanted to be here to keep an eye on me. At least he’s protecting the rest of the coven. I type out a quick response, promising to update him as soon as I’ve spoken to Alice, and put the phone away.

Beside me, Morgan glances down the row to where Sarah’s sitting. “I like her. She seems really cool.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty great,” I concede, even if she sometimes treats me like a gayby, which I’m not. I’ve been out over a year. I’ve already been through a heartbreak and moved on. “She and her wife, Rachel, are expecting their first child in a couple months.”

Morgan lights up. “That’s awesome! I’m definitely up for babysitting.” She bites her lower lip, still swollen from kissing. “Should I worry about the mini Elemental setting my hair on fire?”

Her question startles a laugh out of me. “Even I couldn’t do that. Not for another couple months anyway.” I say it without thinking, but once the words are past my lips, I don’t know if they’re true. I don’t know what will happen when I turn eighteen. What if I’m never ready to progress further?

And the worst of it? I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell Lady Ariana any of that. Or Mom or Archer.

I know I should tell them. Anything that helps the Council learn more about the drug could be important. But if they know, will Elder Keating pull me from these missions? I still have to recruit David, and I want to help destroy the drug that did this to me. Once that’s done, if it still hurts to use my magic on my own, I’ll tell them.

Maybe.

Probably.

I could at least tell Cal. He and I are friends. He wouldn’t look at me like I’ve broken his heart the way Mom might or panic about my safety as much as Archer is bound to do.

Before my thoughts can spiral any further, a soft rumble, like far-off thunder, rolls through the crowd. Silence settles