him and pick up a shiny black bag that promises maximum protection. I run my finger along the gold pentacle emblazoned beneath the text. “Is everything going okay with the you-know-what?”
I haven’t heard much about the Council’s plans, but I know they intend to destroy the drug that temporarily stole my magic, including every bit of research it took to cook it up.
Somehow.
Cal glances behind us to make sure no one is close enough to overhear. He hangs up a handful of Opening Your Inner Eye potions, checks over his shoulder one more time, and then leans close. “There’s a raid happening tonight, actually.”
“Really? Where?”
“We found out where the Hunters are manufacturing the drug. There’s a team out of Boston in charge of infiltration and destruction.” A shimmer of hope lights Cal’s expression, and a confusing mix of excitement and disappointment floods through me. Even though I know it’s an irrational hope, I wanted to be part of whatever happens next. I wanted to be the one to destroy the drug that changed my entire life.
“That’s great.” My enthusiasm sounds false even to my ears.
Cal nods, but his smile falters. “Archer and I wanted to go with them, but our orders are to continue watching over your coven in case of retaliation.”
A shiver of fear makes my fingers tremble. I reach for another black bag, this one promising to spice up the bedroom, and squeeze tight to stop the shaking. “What happens once the drug is gone? Is there anything I can do?” I mentally cross my fingers and hope I don’t sound as desperate as I feel.
But Cal shakes his head, and my chance at convincing him to talk to the Council crumbles. “The Elders are still arguing about what to do for Phase Two.” He must mistake my panic at the mention of Elders for confusion, because he clarifies. “Destroying the drug is Phase One. Phase Two is neutralizing the Hunters entirely.”
I nod, but I’m still shaken by the reminder that the Elders are involved in this. There are three on the Council—one from each Clan—and they have the final say on all witch matters. No one outside of Council members ever meets them, unless you’ve broken our most sacred law and exposed magic to Regs.
Like I did with Gemma.
A tremble of fear courses through me. Most witches who are brought before the Elders don’t leave with their magic intact. I hang the bag of blessed herbs and clear my throat. “So, what’s the plan for after? Do you know what options they’re considering?”
“Nothing concrete. There’s been talk of imprisonment. Draining financial resources. A couple key assassinations.” Cal pauses when I let out an involuntary gasp. “They’re trying to wipe us out, Hannah. It’s not like we can invite them to tea and ask nicely.”
The tiny muscles around my eyes tighten, and I feel my expression go hard. Biting words build at the back of my throat. I swallow down the bitterness as best I can. “Trust me, Cal. I remember exactly what Benton did to me. I know they won’t listen to anything we say.”
I can still hear Benton’s voice like it was yesterday. He called me a monster. Said he wanted to give me true humanity by taking away everything that made me an Elemental. And then he blamed me for ruining his plans and tried to burn me alive. I lean against the shelves and sigh. “I wish there was a reset button we could push and make them disappear. Or that we could go back in time and stop them from ever finding out about magic in the first place.”
Cal puts an arm around my shoulders. “We’ll figure something out. I promise.”
I lean into his touch and will myself to believe him.
* * *
While I wait for Gemma to finish her lesson, the shop gets too busy to talk with Cal. I wander the aisles while he works, straightening rows of candles while I wait for another opening. I’ll need to be more direct, since asking if the Council needed any help didn’t have the desired effect.
But by the time Gem finishes her lesson, I still haven’t found my opening. She emerges from Lauren’s private room brimming with energy. Her smile dims when she spots me. “Why do you have Veronica Face?”
“I don’t.” I glare at her when a passing tourist gives us an odd look. “Veronica Face isn’t a thing.”
Gemma holds up her hand and ticks off each argument on her fingers. “Your