him -- as if the guy can’t stand up on his own, I think bitterly, slinging a backpack over her shoulder. “Charms,” she says by way of explanation. “My own work. You never know when they might come in handy.”
“Fair enough,” I admit grudgingly as I wolf down a biscuit and chug my tea, wincing at the burn in my throat. “Well, there’s no use waiting around any longer. Shall we?”
“Whatever you say, Millie.” Again with that disingenuous smile. It makes my skin crawl. Is this really the person who made me a witch?
Hunter doesn’t say anything, following Edith to the door without so much as a glance at me. My stomach drops -- is he mad at me? I wonder with a feeling of sudden dread. It’s ridiculous, I know; it’s not like we’ve fought about anything, and just last night he was praising my work teaching him! So what gives?
The tension is palpable as we file out of the apartment, Edith disabling her hexes with an enviable ease before pulling the door open and leading us out and down the hallway. Hunter is making a point to avoid my gaze, his expression serious and almost haunted, and it takes everything I have not to ask him what the hell has gotten into him.
At least the weather is on our side. Aside from a cool breeze, the day is gorgeous, and I feel revitalised as we step out onto the street and begin to make our way down the block. Edith clearly knows where she’s going, which is good, because this neighbourhood might as well be a maze to me. I feel exposed, like at any moment now an Academy agent will pop out of an alleyway and drag me into the shadows, but at least we have numbers on our side. For whatever else I may think of her, Edith is a strong witch. If anyone tries anything, at least we’ll be able to give them a hell of a fight.
Unable to hold my tongue any longer, I fall into step beside Hunter. “So how’s the living situation working out?” I ask.
He shrugs, his eyes fixed on the pavement. “No complaints,” he says, his voice flat.
Edith shoots him a coquettish look over her shoulder. “None from me either,” she adds with a wink. “Here’s to not-so-strange bedfellows, huh?”
“Bedfellows?” I ask, blanching a little.
The witch shifter laughs. “Relax, Millie. It’s just an expression.”
Is it, though?
I swallow hard but don’t reply.
We continue on in silence, eventually leaving the shops behind in favour of a block of flats that looks like it was constructed hundreds of years ago. “Well, here we are,” she announces, spreading her arms out. “Stop one, right?”
“Right,” I echo curtly.
We make our way around a corner and down a side street before coming to a stop in front of a narrow complex. “Shall I do the honours?” Edith asks, nodding at the doorbell. Before I even have a chance to reply, she’s ringing it, squaring her shoulders and smoothing her shirt like she’s here for a job interview and not a rebel recruitment. “Jennifer?” she says into the speaker. “It’s me, Edith Conaway!”
There’s a long pause before the person on the other end wordlessly buzzes us in. Looking rather self-satisfied, Edith pulls open the door and leads us to a glass lift, which slowly rises until it slows to a stop at the top floor. We arrive outside an expensive-looking penthouse apartment; this must have been what she was talking about when she said these guys were influential in the shifter community. We’ll just have to hope they’ll use that influence to our benefit.
Edith knocks on the door like she’s done this a million times before, and I’m a little shocked by her nonchalance -- how many times has she visited these people? But before I can think about it too hard, the door opens to reveal a stunningly beautiful red-haired woman who appears to be in her mid-thirties. The siren shifter, I would assume. Her face lights up when she sees Edith. “There you are,” she exclaims, holding her arms out to embrace the witch shifter. “I was half expecting not to see you, Edith! You’ve been off the grid for some time.”
“It comes with the territory,” Edith replies with a grin. “Dodging the humans is kind of a full-time job.”
“I know it well,” the woman, Jennifer, says, nodding. She holds the door open for us and we filter into a spacious apartment. “And just who