not mad, Gem. It’s just that I had a whole church-and-state thing with this stuff. It’s weird to be bringing you here instead of the dance studio.”
Gemma nods and turns away without saying anything, and I mentally kick myself. She always gets like this whenever Morgan or I mention dance. Before the car crash, Gemma lived and breathed ballet and modern and tap. She had the rare combination of innate talent and the drive to work harder than everyone else anyway. She could have gotten into any dance conservatory she wanted, and her dream of dancing on Broadway always seemed a matter of when, not if. That all changed when the guardrail smashed into her door and crushed her leg. Despite her age and how hard she works in physical therapy, the doctors haven’t been overly encouraging about her ability to recover in time to audition this year. If she ever does.
Before I can apologize, the lights turn and we follow the crowd across the street. I pull open the door and bells jingle above me. I smile at the familiar sound, letting the soothing lavender incense draw me into the shop.
I spot Lauren working behind the register, where she’s converted the back counter into some kind of altar. Beautifully carved wooden statues of the Horned God and Triple Goddess sit at the center of the counter with large gold and silver pillar candles burning beside their respective deity.
Even from across the room, the flicker of the small flames brushes against my skin. I try to ignore the sensations, but they push and push and push until I can’t block them out. Suddenly, I’m back in the woods again. My legs are bound to a stake. I can’t move. Can’t breathe. Fire presses against my skin, looking for a way past my compromised Elemental power. Smoke fills my lungs. Tears blur my vision as darkness crowds in and—
“Hannah.” Gemma’s urgent whisper pulls me back to the present, and I find her fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I can barely choke the word out. It scrapes like ash and rock across my tongue as I press the heels of my hands against my eyelids. Coming here was a mistake. I need Morgan. My nerves are too raw and exposed without her.
No. I shove memories into a mental box and lock it tight. You can do this. You have to be okay if you want to fight. Just find Cal. Slowly, the tension leaves my body. I still step farther away from the candles though.
Lauren turns around, and her face lights up when she spots us loitering by the door. “Hannah, I wasn’t expecting to see you.” She’s all warmth and concern as she approaches. Lauren isn’t a member of the Witch Clans, but as a Wiccan high priestess, she has her own kind of power. Different from ours, less dramatic, but still real. It’s that power Gem is so excited to harness for herself. “How are you?”
I shrug and find my fingers reaching for the necklace again. “I’m okay.”
Her gaze drops to the tourmaline that she gifted me, a sad smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “You’ve been missed, Hannah. Please know you’re welcome back anytime.”
Warmth spreads through me, but I don’t see myself coming back. Not while there are Hunters to fight. “Thank you,” I say, not committing to anything.
“Now, Gemma,” Lauren says, shifting her focus. “Are you ready to discuss the wheel of the year?”
Gem casts me a glance before she nods and follows Lauren to the back of the shop, where they disappear into the private reading room. It’s usually occupied by tarot clients, but she uses it for her students, too.
Once they’ve disappeared, I go looking for Cal. I find him along the opposite wall, wearing an orange Cauldron T-shirt, dark jeans, and black-and-white Converse. He’s buzzed the sides of his head since I last saw him, his blond hair still perfectly floppy on top. Cal is busy restocking the hand-packaged potion ingredients that Lauren blesses herself, but he stops to hug me tight as I approach. When he pulls away, I notice dark circles under his eyes that stand out against his pale skin.
“Are you okay?” I cringe as the question passes my lips. I know more than most how irritating it can be.
Cal reaches for another packet of dried herbs, this one labeled To Bring Prosperity. “I’m fine. Why?”
“You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.” I settle beside