into back in the day.
For awhile it almost seems like nothing can touch us here. Like nothing bad is even happening in the wider world.
It’s a temporary bubble, but a beautiful one, and when Carly links her arm in mine and drags me out back to snap a selfie under the moon, I can’t imagine anything bad will happen. Not for a good long while.
But then there’s a knock on the deck door from inside the house, and a rock settles into the pit of my stomach.
“They’re back again?” Nat asks. “Goddess, they really don’t value those Ds, huh?”
I head back to the deck and grab the saber, ready to threaten the next D that invades our space.
But when I peer into the open doorway, the eyes peering back at me don’t belong to Baz, Ani, Kirin, or Doc.
“Casey?” I cock my head, wondering what the hell brought her out here tonight after weeks of radio silence.
She nods once, then steps aside, revealing the true reason for her visit—the one witch in the entire magickal universe whose definitely not on the Witch-’N-Bitch guest list.
I’m just drunk enough to be a total cunt about it too. And with this uninvited guest? Trust me, I’ve earned it.
“Good evening, Anna.” I flash a wide grin, then swing the saber in a wide arc, touching the tip to her throat. “You’ve got thirty seconds to justify your existence before I pop your head off like a cork.”
Thirty-One
STEVIE
She sits alone in the armchair next to the fireplace, sipping her tea like the Queen she believes she is, flames crackling in the hearth behind her. The whole scene is like something out of a nightmare fairytale, the kind they used to tell kids in the Victorian era, scaring them into good behavior.
Her unexpected arrival ushered in a swift end to our Witch-’N-Bitch fun, chasing off the last of my buzz and popping our perfect little bubble of magickal miracles. As soon as the guys heard the confrontation unfolding outside, they came charging out en masse, more than eager to spell her ass right back to whatever shadowy alley she slithered out of tonight.
But in the end, I could neither send her away nor make good on my threat to decapitate her with a champagne saber.
Because Anna Trello brought me peace offering I couldn’t refuse.
Books.
Two of them, to be precise, now stacked on the table at her side, emanating a force of magick and power so welcoming, so intimate, there’s no doubt in my mind they’re authentic.
My mother’s grimoire, and Journey Through the Void of Mist and Spirit. A collection I came to know—in my brief tenure as an Arcana Academy student and researcher of dark prophecies both ancient and new—as the Book of Shadow and Mists.
My books, stolen by Professor Phaines the night he drugged, kidnapped, and tortured me. Stolen back by Anna Trello, presumably after his demise at her hand.
Now, seated on the sofa surrounded by Carly, Isla, and Nat, the guys and Casey Appleton an immovable wall behind us, Professors Maddox and Broome a formidable force hovering beside Trello, I give my former headmistress a glare that would set a lesser witch on fire.
But if she’s intimidated at all by the show of magickal force, she doesn’t reveal it; her energy is as cold and stoic as her eyes.
“Agent Eastman is no longer recognizing my authority at Arcana Academy,” she says now, teacup and saucer balanced primly in her lap. “I’m essentially a fugitive in his eyes, deemed unfit to lead and protect our students. My office has been overrun, my personal quarters sealed with magick I can’t access. He’s called in several others to support his claims, and I’ve spent the past few weeks off-campus, searching a vast network of underground magickal communities for any information that might help us.”
“And?” Casey asks. For all their so-called partnering up, she doesn’t seem too thrilled with Trello at the moment either. “What did you learn?”
“Everyone is too afraid to speak out,” Trello says. “Which is exactly how they want us. Scared and docile. More than willing to trade our basic freedoms for the perception of safety. Easy to manipulate.”
“So who’s helping out Eastman?” I ask. “More APOA guys?”
Trello shakes her head. “These men are… They’re different. They’re all mages, clearly part of a formalized organization or network, but nothing legitimate as far as I can tell. They operate in secrecy and shadow, rarely speaking in the presence of outsiders. There’s a darkness among them, an