by Freya Black
She would say in her sweet, soft-spoken voice, “Nightmares, my darling, now, those you need to be afraid of. They might bear the horrors of the future, a burden that is both a gift and a curse.”
I peeled myself out of bed and opened the floor-length curtains. A wondrous view of the Arcadian mountains would usually calm my nerves, except I took no comfort in their beauty this morning.
After I showered and dressed, I shuffled down the hall, humming a song I’d heard on the radio. When I opened my bedroom door, I found my best friend, Declan Delaney, sprawled out on my bed in board shorts and a T-shirt, playing on his phone.
“Hey—” My mouth opened and clamped shut. “What are you doing in here?”
Declan slid off the bed with a devilish grin that gave his emerald eyes a certain sparkle. He towered over me, all six feet of him, and wrapped his muscular arms around me. “Hey, beautiful.” It was more like a nickname than a term of endearment although the rest of the town would disagree.
I twisted my fingers through his shaggy brown hair that swept across his forehead and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Hey, we need to talk.”
“What did I do now?” He deadpanned.
I giggled at the silly face he was making and nudged him in his arm. “For once, nothing.”
We leaned against the headboard, making jokes about the girl he had gone out with the night before. I had to turn off his phone to get a break from her stalker text messages.
His mood switched from playful to furious within seconds as I rehashed the details of my encounter with Sloane. When the white of his knuckles disappeared and the tension subsided, I relaxed. The worst part was over.
Declan propped his elbow on a stack of pillows, so we were facing each other. “Was it one of your visions?”
“No.” I shook my head. “It wasn’t a premonition. My parents were still alive. I don’t know how he did it, but somehow, he provoked that dream.”
“Hexenjagers,” he said under his breath.
“That’s what I thought at first, but he didn’t have any markings, and there’s no sign that he tethered into Arcadia.”
Declan glanced at me sideways, one eyebrow raised. “C’mon, Fee, don’t be so naive. He could have cloaked his sigil.”
He was right, and there was no doubt that I was a naïve. An immortal hunter had tricked me into believing that we had a connection. The truth hurt.
A knock on my bedroom door came as a welcome relief from his interrogation. Kate glided into my room, golden locks curled and pinned over her right shoulder. She looked radiant in a pale yellow sundress that hugged her curvy waist, and strappy sandals were fastened around her ankles.
“Are you kids ready for the barbecue? I’m starving.”
Declan jumped off the bed. He held out his palm, and I sighed, hoping he would sit back down. It wasn’t often that Declan took my breath away even though he had that effect on most girls in Arcadia. But when he bent down on one knee and kissed the top of my hand, I was speechless.
“Fiona Mandrake, will you go to the barbecue with me?” Declan asked, laughing.
My cheeks flushed, despite my attempts to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. “Dude, you’re such an idiot,” I said, shoving my fingers through his hair.
He was so charming when he wanted to be. But, for the most part, he was more like my brother. Not to mention, he’d been there through all the awkward moments in my life.
I stood on my tippy-toes and threw my arms around his neck. His skin smelled of citrus musk, the cologne I’d bought him for his birthday.
I pulled away, his scent still lingering in the air, and smiled. “Let’s get this over with.”
When we walked outside, humidity and smoldering heat burned my nostrils. We trod across the grass, still wet and shiny from the sprinklers, to the red Mustang convertible parked next door in Declan’s driveway. He turned the key in the ignition, but the engine refused to start.
Running his hand along the steering wheel, he said, “C’mon, Shelby. Baby, don’t do this to me.”
His father had died six months before my parents and left the car to him. We always joked that the car was the real love of Declan’s life. No matter how many times it’d broken down, Shelby would outlast any of his relationships.
The car finally started, and six turns later, we were at the town square.
By design, Arcadia had less than five hundred residents. My family had founded the town in the early 1700s, and for close to a century, the same families had occupied the brick Colonial houses. Nothing ever changed, except for the seasons. On the outside, it was a cookie-cutter town—white picket fences, manicured lawns, a perfect place to raise a family. But to those who understood the power that resided beneath Arcadia, it was a target for malevolent forces. On the surface, our town appeared normal, mostly because Norms ran our government and policed our streets. Our Coven preferred to keep Norms in power even though it was a Gateway City to the otherworlds.
Once a month, Mayor Keats would hold a barbecue, and as usual, almost everyone attended. My entire life, we’d spent summers at the Pavilion. There, my father had taught me how to swim, throw a football, and make a one-handed layup.
I tapped Declan on the arm as we walked past the horseshoe pit. He bobbed his head in acknowledgment and continued dragging me toward the food.
We used to sit on the benches, watching our fathers drink beer and argue over who had thrown the horseshoe closest to the metal stake. My dad was a Telepath, so of course, Mr. Delaney would get drunk and accuse him of using magic. Like Declan, his dad was a Pyromancer, born with the ability to create and manipulate fire. Because of their divine powers, they ran a little hot with a fiery temperament to match.
We strolled toward the center of the chaos, a large wooden structure with a pointed roof built atop a concrete slab. Children were running wild, screaming, as they tagged each other. Boys were playing a game of Horse at the basketball court. A doubles tournament commenced in the adjoining tennis court.
After we each scarfed down a hot dog, Declan pocketed a few snacks and walked me to the Olympic-size pool. We found Celeste at the far end, sunbathing with a hardback book resting on her chest. I leaned over and peeked at the spine, not surprised she had already dog-eared my personal copy of The Great Gatsby.
Celeste had a habit of borrowing my books, which I treated like gold. Then, she’d return them in a condition unworthy of something you would find at the bottom of a bargain bin.
“If Fitzgerald saw what you had done to that book, he’d be mad as hell,” I said.
She didn’t move a muscle, so I tapped her sandal with my foot.
“Wake up, girlie.”
She flipped up a pair of retro hot-pink sunglasses that matched her two-piece bathing suit. “Hey, Fee.”
Declan sat on the edge of the lounge chair next to her, his arms resting on his knees. “Hello to you, too, sunshine.”
She hit him with her book. “Don’t get smart with me, Delaney.”
Declan held out his hand. “Let’s go, slacker!” He deadpanned, as he lifted her skinny body off the chair with little effort and set her on the ground.
On our way to the shallow end, Declan stopped to talk to a few of the guys from Sal’s, the auto shop where Declan worked as a mechanic. I dragged Celeste through the crowd of men, making a point to ignore Marco DeLuca. He was the devil. I rolled my eyes at him, but my hatred for him only generated more attention. He tugged my arm with enough force to rip it clean out of its socket.
I shoved my hands into his chest. “Marco, stop it!”
Trying to move him was like punching a brick wall, and it hurt me far worse than him. He pulled me closer, staring down at me with his deep brown eyes.
Marco was attractive from a distance. The second he opened his mouth though, whatever image you’d formed would slowly evaporate. My senior year of high school, I had been stupid enough to fall for his lines. I’d even dated him for a few months. We’d had a rough breakup
after he had cheated on me with a cheerleader. But he was Declan’s friend and his co-worker, so I had to spend a lot of time with him. He was my cross to bear.
“Damn, girl. Why did I ever let you go?”
I recoiled at his breath on my earlobe, and his lecherous gaze made my skin crawl. “Because you’re an idiot. Now, get off me!”
Celeste stepped between us. “You’re not her type. Back off!”
“Baby, I’m everyone’s type,” he said with a sly grin.
She snickered at him. “Yeah, because your modesty is so appealing.”
I shot him a look that could snap him in half and marched away with my fists clenched at my sides.
“You’ll give in eventually!” he yelled loud enough that heads spun in my direction. “You already did once.”
I kept moving, thankful my sunglasses shielded me from the curious stares of nosy sunbathers. “No, I won’t.”
Celeste looped her arm with mine, her sandals scraping along the cement. Declan’s voice carried, and we both laughed as he harassed Marco. I set my bag down on the pavement next to the pool as we stepped out of our sandals, then we slid into two feet of water until our backs reached a ledge that protruded from the sidewalls.
Arcadia was bone-chilling in the winter and no warmer than eighty degrees in the summer months. For the first week of August, it was record-breaking high.
Celeste folded her arms across her chest. “Marxo is the worse.”
“Ugh, I know. He’s so gross. I can’t believe I went out with him.”
“I’m sick of Marco. He thinks he can have any girl he wants. After what he did to you, what give him the right to hit on you?”
She paused for a second, and even through her dark glasses, I could tell she was scheming. Just like a poker player, she had a tell. When something good was brewing, Celeste always bit down on her lip and avoided eye contact.
“What do you think about making a love potion?” I was about to respond when she pushed her hand out in front of her. “No, wait. I got something even better. Marco’s so evil, we should hex him. You know, like cast a spell, so he can’t get a girl. It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it after he spread all those lies about you and him, and then had the nerve to cheat on you. We could use one of those old spells from my mom’s library.”
Celeste’s mom, Vivian Franklin, was a member of our Inner Circle and my mother’s best friend. Celeste and her mom were both Hydromancers, a divine power that allowed them to control water. Unlike Declan, who only had to think of the action and then fire would appear, Celeste and Vivian needed to draw from the source, even if it were as insignificant as a raindrop.
I thought about my response for a few seconds before rejecting the idea. “Yeah, right. If the Imperium Council found out we hexed a Norm, we would be dead.”
The Crescent birthmark on my right palm burned, and when I peeked beneath my sunglasses, it had turned a pale blue. I dunked my hand in the water and waited until it reverted back to its normal scar-like appearance. That was the worst part of being a Crescent Witch. Members of our Coven had their own mark, each representing their elemental symbols, but mine was the most noticeable. No one else’s sigils were in plain sight.
Celeste reached behind her to where I had left my bag on the ground. She lifted the small beach tote from the edge of the pool and produced a tube of sunscreen. She worked gobs into her naturally tan skin that came from her father’s Cherokee lineage. For the most part, she never burned, but her mother’s Irish roots would cause her to freckle without protection.
“Did Kate figure out how a Hexenjager bypassed the Protection spell?” she asked, handing me the lotion.
“No, and I’m not even sure he is one. We checked the gateway portals after closing, and the enchantments are stronger than ever.”
“I don’t understand how he got in here. Kate didn’t get a warning, nothing to alert her that someone crossed the town line.”
I shook my head. “No. I would’ve thought at a bare minimum that his presence would trigger a vision, but I only had the same one I always have.”
“The vision where you’re surrounded by fire and ash?”
“Yes.” I sighed. “I wish I knew what it meant. Last night I had one about my mother. Instead of succeeding Kate as Coven Leader, it was my mother.”
She gasped, holding her hand up to her chest. “But…that doesn’t make sense. That’s impossible.”
“I know. I have no idea what’s going on right now with this town or me, but that guy from Enchanted Books and Beans triggered something. The balance of magic if off since he showed up. I can feel it.”
“What do you mean? You can feel his presence?” It was a question not a statement.
I shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain it. My powers have been stronger since he touched me. My skin is on fire, and I have never felt more powerful. It’s as if I have some of his magic running through me. Or maybe he somehow strengthened my magic. I have no clue what it means or why it happened, but he did something to me. We’re connected in some way.”
“Huh.” Celeste bit down on her bottom lip. She stared down, as she stuck her index finger into the water to make bubbles, showing off her divine power.
We all did the same at times without remembering we were in public and around Norms. It was so natural to use our magic without thinking about the consequences.
“Fee, you ready to go?” Declan called out, standing over us at the edge of the pool.
Celeste wasn’t happy about us leaving early. But I didn’t mind. I pulled myself up the ladder and out of the pool, and she followed behind with an irritated grunt. We stopped by our chairs and grabbed our towels. Declan wiped his face with his, a smile crossing his lips.
He winked at someone over my shoulder, and before I could turn around, I felt two big hands on my bare skin, gripping my hips.
I gasped when I saw Marco’s deep brown eyes, disgusted by the sound of his laughter that shook through me as he lifted me off the ground. “Ready to go for a swim, Princess?”
“Put me down, Marco!” I yelled as he walked toward the edge of the pool.
The energy I’d felt with Sloane the day before consumed every inch of me. I lost all control, the power taking over as it pushed out from my body like a sudden gust of wind.
Before I could rein in my emotions, I slipped from his grasp and moved to the side as Marco tripped and fell into the pool. Declan stared at me in awe, his eyes wide and mouth open.
Like nothing happened, I rested my hand on Declan’s shoulder. “Are you ready to go home?”
He nodded, a look of shock registered on his face.
Celeste accompanied Declan and me to the parking lot. Her voice blended with the thoughts running through my head. “What were you thinking? Marco’s a Norm.”
I slid into the bucket seat, wincing in pain as the sun-soaked leather burned my back. “I didn’t want to do it, but I couldn’t control my emotions.”
Celeste sighed, disappointed. “We could’ve helped you, Fee. You put yourself in danger doing that in front of all those Norms.”
Declan started the engine and pumped the gas pedal. “You’d better hope Kate doesn’t find out about that,” he said, continuing to rev the engine.
“Yeah, Fee.” Celeste pulled a teal tank top over her head before giving me a disapproving mom look that Kate had perfected. “That counts as breaking rule number one.”
“It’s not like the Norms even knew what was happening.” My tone was defensive.
“True,” Declan said, entertaining the idea. “But if anyone from our Coven saw what you did any they tell Kate, she’ll kill you.”
“Oh well.” I shrugged. “Kate wouldn’t report me to the Imperium Council for misuse of magic.” I paused for a second and wondered if she would ever cross that line. “If she did, at least it would be worth it. I mean, what’s the worst they can do to me?”
We waved at Celeste.
Declan shifted into reverse, slo
wly backing out of the space. “Your first time, you would probably get a slap on the wrist, but I wouldn’t test the Council.”
I mulled over his words. Our Coven lived and died by the rules, but unlike the straitlaced members of the Inner Circle, my mother had been different. And so was I. She’d had a theory, one I’d vowed to incorporate into every aspect of my life.
“Take risks,” I said. “It’s better to die, risking it all, than to stand by and watch your world blow up in smoke.”
Declan turned his head toward me and smiled. “Your mom…she used to say that, right?”
“Yep. That was the last thing she said to me before the accident.”
Ten years ago, my parents had been hit head-on by a tractor-trailer. According to the police report, they went through the windshield and landed on the hood of the truck. Their faces were so unrecognizable, we’d had a closed casket funeral for them. I never had a chance to say good-bye. How they’d died seemed ironic to me, considering they were the most powerful witches in our Coven. How a Telepath like my father couldn’t keep the truck from hitting them always baffled me, especially since witches were more in tune with their surroundings than Norms.
On our way home, we drove with a hot breeze blowing through our hair. I peeled the sticky black tank top from my chest and fanned myself. I swore, the devil had spit fire on our magical town. Declan flipped on the air conditioner, and then he laughed as I jumped back from the warm air blowing on my face. I held out my hands, about to sing along with a song on the radio, when my brain shut down. Everything around me drifted into the background.
At the edge of the woods, I noticed someone tall with lean muscles protruding from a cutoff T-shirt and mesh basketball shorts. Sweat poured off him, his tan skin glistening in the afternoon sun. He trudged through the underbrush, swatting at shrubs with a knife. Sloane Blackwell—or at least the Hexenjager who was pretending to be him—turned at the sound of the Mustang’s engine.
My mouth fell open as we rounded the corner of our street. Declan lived with his mother in a small house next to the Cleary Estate. Luckily, he didn’t notice the crazy person hacking away at the Arcadian forest like some mountain man. I couldn’t tell Declan about Sloane without him trying to defend me, so that was out of the question. Declan would jump out of the car, full-blown rage monster.