hands from shaking. I’m okay. I’m safe. I force myself to breathe, inhaling for five steps, exhaling for ten. Benton’s in jail. I’m okay. By the time we make it to my locker, my fingers are steady enough to spin the combination and store my things inside.
“You can let go,” I whisper as we head toward our homerooms, which are across the hall from each other. Morgan isn’t touching me anymore, but she must know what I mean. Her magic falls away, leaving my jagged nerves exposed again. “Thank you.”
The softest shadow of a smile graces her lips. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m good. I promise.” I step back toward my homeroom, the last few stragglers maneuvering around us. “I’ll see you at your locker before lunch?”
She nods and slips into her class as the final bell rings. I hurry in before the clanging stops, and all eyes turn to me. The silence is heavy with expectation.
I force a smile and ease down the aisle, finding a seat near the back. My whole body is tense under the weight of their attention, but I keep my spine straight. I remind myself to breathe. Remind myself not to feel too strongly. I hide my still trembling hands under the desk.
I’m okay. I can do this.
If I can survive the Witch Hunters, I can survive high school.
2
BY THE END OF our short three-day week, I’ve settled back into the rhythm of school. My lack of an epic meltdown has calmed the gawking stares down to curious glances, and people stop going quiet every time I enter a room.
On Friday, while most of my classmates prepare to spend their first weekend getting wasted at Nolan’s newly renovated home, I’m driving Gemma somewhere I didn’t expect to visit this year: the Fly by Night Cauldron.
After everything that happened this summer, I couldn’t bring myself to go back to work. As much as I love my boss, Lauren, and the freedom of having my own paycheck, I couldn’t fit in Cauldron shifts and find a way to fight the Witch Hunters. Something had to give.
But when Gem complained at lunch that her mom couldn’t drive her to the Cauldron, where she’s been studying Wicca with Lauren, I saw an opportunity I couldn’t miss.
Cal, my former Cauldron coworker and a junior agent for the Council, works most Fridays after his classes at Salem State. If I can convince him that I should be allowed to join the fight, maybe he can get the rest of the Council on my side, too. Mom won’t be able to stop me if the entire Council wants me on board.
She won’t be able to prevent me from taking down the people who hurt us—starting with Benton’s parents.
The Halls have evaded capture so far, by both the police and the Council, but I intend to be there when they’re finally brought in. I squeeze the necklace Lauren gave me after my dad died, trying to absorb its strength.
He didn’t just die, a small voice inside corrects, he was murdered. Something cold slithers through my veins. Hatred, maybe. Grief.
We pull into the parking garage, and Gemma fidgets in her seat. “Are you sure you aren’t mad that I’m doing this?” It’s the fifth time she’s asked since she started her lessons with Lauren over the summer. There’s a new urgency to her tone, probably because this is the first time we’ll be in the shop together.
I don’t answer right away, focusing instead on backing into a spot. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about Gemma studying Wicca. It’s certainly none of my business, and I’m happy that she’s found a religion that speaks to her, but it’s still . . . a little weird.
“I’m not mad,” I say at last, when the car is parked and I don’t have any more excuses to delay.
“Well, that wasn’t very convincing.” She grabs her bag and follows me out of the car. “If it bothers you, I could have found a different ride.”
“You don’t have to do that. Really, it’s okay.” We maneuver through narrow sidewalks packed with tourists who are already sporting black robes and pointed witch hats, even though it’s almost two months until Halloween. The sun is still hot overhead, warm enough that a small bead of sweat trails down my spine.
Across the street from the shop, we pause to wait for the light to turn. I try again to convince my best friend that things are fine. “I swear I’m