“Good.” Nana released my chin and gave me a reassuring smile. “There are two kinds of witches in the world. Bane Witches, who wield poisonous hexes, and Pure Witches, who invoke spells and charms for good causes. I am the latter.”
Afton dropped her fork on the table. “You are a witch?”
“Is Pop one?”
“No,” Nana said. “His father was human. He didn’t get any of my magic.”
Memories of my visits to Nana’s quaint duplex in Mission Hill came rushing in—her black cat that watched me with dissecting eyes, her collection of leather-bound books written in Latin with sketches of plants and animal parts in them, and the eccentric older women who made up her literary tea group. Even the concoction that healed my wound better than the doctor’s ointment. All strange in their own right, but put together, they told a different story. Nana wasn’t just odd—she was a witch. An honest-to-goodness witch. Who’d kept the truth from me, kept me hidden from my father.
My whole life had been a collection of half-truths and lies. Maybe to protect me, but it was hard to accept. I wasn’t sure whether to be angry or scared. What people could be so horrible that Mom had given up someone she’d supposedly loved to hide me? Wizards… Mystiks… Hunters… who knew what else. My mind swam. What did they think I could do? I had so many questions I didn’t know what to ask first.
Nick returned, balancing a small steaming teapot in one hand and a cup and saucer in the other. He placed them both in front of Nana.
“That was fast,” Afton said.
“It’s just hot water and tea bags.” Nick pulled over another chair and leaned back in it, balancing on two legs. “What’d I miss?”
“Nana’s a witch,” Afton whispered.
“So nothing new, then,” he said, slamming the chair back on all fours.
Nana cleared her throat, giving Nick a stern look. “May I continue?”
“Um, sure, have at it.” Nick picked up his fork and drummed it on the table. When Nick was nervous, he tended to get fidgety. During tests at school, the teachers were always on him to settle down.
“Without distraction.”
Nick paused mid-tap. “Oh, sorry.”
“Thank you,” Nana said. “Sentinels are born with a certain gene that enables them to create light and weapon globes for battles. The Monitors can detect the gene, which allows them to track a Sentinel while jumping through the gateways. After your mother fled the havens, Gia, she sought my help. She told me people with ill intentions were searching for her and her baby. I used a branding charm to shield the two of you from discovery. It’s how you got the scar.”
My hand flew to my chest. “You branded a baby?”
“I’d never harm a child. I applied a numbing potion to the area beforehand.” She dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin, avoiding eye contact with me, then cleared her throat again. “As I was saying, your mother and father were both Sentinels. The wizard laws forbid Sentinels from having children together because a seer prophesied that a child from such a union would herald the coming end for both the human and Mystik worlds. Marty fled to keep you safe.”
Nana removed the top of the teapot, grabbed the tags tethered to the two bags inside, and dunked them up and down. Her lips pressed into a tight line. She did that whenever she couldn’t get up the nerve to deliver bad news.
“Just say it, Nana,” I urged.
“It is believed that you are that child.”
Chapter Seven
“I’m…what?” I knocked my glass over.
Nick watched the river of juice course across the table. “I think she said you’re the Doomsday Child.”
Nana and Afton grabbed napkins from the silver dispenser on the table and caught the flow before the orange stream cascaded over the table’s edge.
“Nick.” Afton shook her head and dabbed at the table. “Can you be any more insensitive?”
He scowled. “What the hell? She’s not the only one dealing with all the shit going down, lately.”
“Watch your language, young man,” Nana warned.
“I’m sorry,” I said, still stunned. “I’ve made a mess.”
“Nonsense, it was an accident, is all.” Nana added her napkins to Afton’s pile.
I rubbed my temples to soothe a blossoming headache. “Let’s say I believe you. Why didn’t Arik and the others know about me? And now that they know, aren’t I in more danger from them than anyone else? And…and…if you were hiding me, how