wasn't possible.
"So you have absolutely no experience with voodoo?" Aidan asked. I shook my head because it was the truth. I had no first hand experience, which didn't mean my grandmother hadn't let me watch her fall into trance and perform the odd ritual. Of course I could've told them that I was eager to try—I had been all my life—but it didn't feel right. Yet. I wanted to find out who they were and what they could do first. Besides, something told me to wait before I revealed more about myself. Aidan tapped an impatient finger against his thigh. "Right. Cass, do you know anyone who can teach her?"
All eyes shifted back to the redhead, all but one pair. Thrain continued to stare at me. I moved in my seat uncomfortably, avoiding his probing gaze even though I could barely peel my eyes off of him. The way he seemed to take up the entire room, he made it impossible to focus on anything else. I moistened my lips only to regret it when his gaze followed the tip of my tongue. Cass tapped me on my shoulder, jerking me out of my thoughts. I turned to her, embarrassed that I had been so engrossed in my reflections I hadn't even heard her. "Sorry. What did you say?"
Cass rolled her eyes. "I said, what do you say to an all-inclusive trip to the Swiss Alps? If you're into snow and freezing to death, you might even enjoy it."
"We don't have time for skiing," Amber said.
"I know that," Cass snapped. "Give me some credit, will you? My aunt, Patricia, lives there and she's a Seer. She knows a lot about magic and stirring into pots and all that. Might be a good start until we figure out what it takes to turn this lot into a proper priestess."
"I'm ready to go whenever you are," I whispered.
She shook her head and pointed behind her. The air around her seemed to move, carrying over a strange sound, like that of cracking wood. Staring was rude, and yet I couldn't look away as dark shadows erupted from her back, taking the shape of black wings. Cass threw her head back. Her eyes rolled in their sockets. When she peered at me, I could see they had changed color from green to pitch black, pain reflecting in them. Her skin turned darker until it resembled shiny coal. I flinched, not with disgust, but with fear. Whatever Cass was, I had seen it before, or so it seemed. The memory hovered at the back of my mind, begging me to remember, and yet I couldn't quite place the familiar sight. And then I remembered the pain searing through me. It was only a moment, but it left me perturbed, and more confused than before.
Thrain stood up and placed a soft peck on her forehead whispering, "Don't worry. I'll take care of her until you're back." Cass nodded and her mouth parted, revealing razor sharp teeth. I couldn't help but flinch. And in that instant, she disappeared right before my eyes.
"Are you okay?" Thrain asked me.
"Yes." My voice sounded surprisingly strong and resolute.
"She's one of the good guys." He reached out for my hand, then withdrew again as though he didn't know whether he had permission to touch me. I wished he hadn't stopped.
"I know that," I said softly. "I can feel it." And it was the truth. In my culture, there was a name for what Cass was—a Giltinė. A mixture of angel and demon, and a reaper of souls that could mean only one thing: death. Babushka had told me stories about a woman in white clothes with a never-fading green sprout in her hand. The touch of the sprout would put a human to an everlasting sleep. Granted, Cass's clothes couldn't be more colorful, but I figured even reapers might develop a sense for fashion. Babushka's stories made me believe I was truly seeing a being of Slavic mythology. I also knew I had nothing to fear, not before my time had come.
"Why don't you get some sleep while she's gone?" Aidan said. "She might take a while."
Thrain shook his head. "We can't stay here."
"Why not?" Aidan asked.
"Because this place is fishy. There's a reason why I didn't find her straight away."
"Like?"
Thrain regarded me. "Magic."
"You think someone's trying to stop us?" Amber inched closer and snuggled into Aidan's arms. For some reason I felt jealous of how natural she behaved. I wished I