Fear weighs down my limbs, but I force myself to follow. Force myself to draw on my magic, to claim some of the air for my own.
When we reach the apartment door, it’s still in one piece, but it’s open.
“Veronica, I don’t think—”
A flash of warning screams across my skin. Veronica and I duck at the same time, the air filled with shouts of danger. Something whizzes toward us, and when I glance up, I find a knife buried in the doorframe where I’d been standing.
Before I have time to register what happened, a pale hand grabs the hilt and something shoves me hard in the back. I collapse into the hall, and a blur of blue and white and black races past. The air urges me along, pushing me back to my feet. Adrenaline propels me onward. I chase after the blur, pounding up another set of stairs. I call on the air, use it to push me along, but the Blood Witch I’m chasing is faster. So much faster.
They burst out onto the roof, and I’m at least ten seconds behind. When I make it outside, the night is dark around me, illuminated only by the glow of the city, which casts deep shadows along the roof. As far as I can tell, I’m alone, but there are so many places to hide.
What the hell am I doing?
As I find my breath, my fear catches up with me again. This was a horrible idea. I need to get out of here before the Blood Witch grabs hold of my heart and crushes it.
I turn to leave, but shadows shift on my left. I whirl around, heart ready to explode, then something pushes me from behind. I stumble forward. Trip over an exposed pipe. Fall face first onto the roof, my hands scraping against the rough cement.
Fast footsteps travel away from me, and I turn in time to see the Blood Witch leap off the roof. They land on the next building over as easily as if they’d skipped across a narrow stream.
I scramble to my feet and hurry to the ledge. There’s no way I could make that jump, not even with the full force of my air magic carrying me across. Not that I want to follow them.
On the other side of the street, the witch turns to face me. Most of their features are shadowed by the black hoodie covering their forehead, but there’s no mistaking the snarl that twists their lips. They turn and run across their new roof, and when they jump for the next building, my knees give out.
* * *
• • •
It’s a long time before Veronica finds me.
I’m huddled against the ledge, body stiff and hands stinging from the fall. She kneels beside me and whispers reassurances until I come back to myself. When she gets me to my feet, I find my voice. “Is everyone alive? Are the Casters okay?”
“We’re fine,” she says, counting herself among the other witches. She tugs me close as we head for the stairs. “Come on.”
On the third floor, we find the apartment door locked. Veronica knocks a complex rhythm, and Coral lets us in. Coral keeps her arms wrapped tight around herself, and her curls fall haphazardly around her face. “Everyone’s in here.”
She leads us back to the living area, and it looks like a tornado tore through the small space. Notebooks and broken glass litter the room. Two of the bookcases have collapsed completely, and potions soak into the wooden floors. There are hardly any vials of liquid left intact anywhere.
Amid all the destruction are the two other Casters. Lexie sits at her desk, using a pair of tweezers to pull shards of glass from her palm. Tori is on the other side of the room, scrubbing furiously at the walls.
It’s several seconds before I realize what she’s trying to wipe away. Why she’s wearing thick rubber gloves that stretch to her elbows.
The walls are covered in Blood Magic.
Shimmering red symbols smear across the walls. Based on the impressions, it looks like they were drawn in blood using two fingers in place of a paint brush. I recognize some of the symbols from the rune sets we sell at the Cauldron, but others are foreign to me. What was the Blood Witch trying to do?
“The Elementals are back,” Coral announces, but only Lexie looks at us.
“Are you okay?” Lexie hisses when she removes another piece of glass from her skin. “Did you catch the Blood Witch?”
“No.” I can’t meet her disappointed gaze, but can’t bear to look at the walls, either. “And they jumped off the roof before I got a good look at their face. I’ve never seen someone move like that.”
“They jumped?” Veronica reaches for my hand, but I flinch away.
“What happened?” Coral grabs my wrists and examines the shallow cuts.
“I fell.” Smears of blood coat my palms from the dozens of small nicks and scratches.
Tori finally stops scrubbing the wall. “Please tell me you didn’t touch the Blood Witch.”
“Oh, umm . . .” I think back to the roof, but it all happened so fast. “I don’t think so.”
“You have to be sure.” Tori drops her sponge in a bucket of what smells like water, bleach, and something earthy. “Did it get your blood or not?”
“No. I’m pretty sure they didn’t.” Something about Tori’s anger feels wrong. Blood Witches may be dangerous, but they’re still human. They’re still part of the Clans.
Tori makes a disgusted sound and goes back to scrubbing the walls. Lexie finishes removing glass from her hand, and Coral helps her clean and bandage the wounds. When they’re done, Coral turns to me.
She pours something across my palms, and it burns like a thousand bee stings. “Sorry,” she says when I wince. “I hope you’re right, by the way.” She soothes ointment onto my cuts and wraps my hand in thin bandages. “If the Blood Witch touched even a drop of your blood, they could track you anywhere.”
The ointment eases the burn, and I glance at Veronica to see if she’s as worried about this new development as I am. She’s too busy helping Tori scrub the walls to notice though. At least we’re leaving tomorrow. Salem should be far enough away to be safe.
“How did they even get in? We weren’t gone long.”
Coral finishes with my left hand and moves to my right. “They showed up right after Veronica left to find you. We thought she’d forgotten her phone or something, so Tori opened the door and then, well.” She gestures at the state of the apartment. At the shattered glass and ruined potions.
How many weeks—months—of careful work did the Blood Witch destroy? How much longer can this feud go on before someone gets seriously hurt?
“Why haven’t you called the Council? They could stop the Blood Witch. They could protect you.”
Behind me, Tori scoffs. “If we could call the Council, we would have by now.” She peels off her gloves and collapses in a heap on the couch. Veronica sits beside her, and I fight a pang of jealousy as she rubs small circles into Tori’s back.
“But why can’t you?” I insist. “This kind of thing is the entire reason we have a Council.”
“Our fight with the Blood Witch isn’t new.” Tori wipes the backs of her hands across her cheeks, like she feels like she should be crying even though she hasn’t shed a tear. “Our Clans have been at war in the city for generations. It’s how I lost my parents five years ago.”
“They died?” The question is out of my mouth before I can stop it, and Veronica shoots me a pointed look.
Tori nods. “We were tired of watching over our shoulders all the time, waiting for the Blood Witches’ next attack. My parents joined an offensive mission that should have ended the war. Except . . .” Her voice breaks, and she has to clear her throat. “Dad would never explain how it happened, but one of the Blood Witches killed my mom during the mission. After we lost her, Dad finally agreed to call the Council for help. Some of the Blood Witches fled, but most were arrested and stripped of their powers as punishment for taking a Clan life.” Tori leans her forearms against her thighs and shakes her head, lost in memories. “Dad was never the same after that. He wanted to leave the Clans and everything we had fought
to protect.”
“What happened?” Veronica asks.
“The coward gave up.” Her voice breaks, and Tori glances up at the ceiling. Tears pool in her eyes and spill down her cheeks. “He went to the Council and asked for an out. He tried to get me to go, too. I don’t know where he is now. All the Council will tell me is that he’s alive, living somewhere far away as a Reg.”
Veronica sucks in a sharp breath. “He just abandoned you?”
Tori shrugs and presses her fingers against her eyes. “I don’t have anyone left.”
“You have us,” Coral says, coming to sit beside Tori. “Lex and I aren’t going anywhere.”
My heart breaks for Tori, and I feel guilty for getting so upset and storming out. Maybe if Veronica and I had been here, we could have helped. Maybe we could have stopped the Blood Witch from coming in at all. At least then the Casters’ potions would still be intact.
“Wait,” I say, staring at the bloody runes as I realize something about her story doesn’t make sense. “I thought you said the Council got rid of the Blood Witches?”
Tori rolls her eyes. “Obviously, they missed one.”
I nod, but while everyone else gets to work cleaning up the mess, something about this whole situation doesn’t make sense. How could the Council let a Clan feud last for so many years before stepping in? Surely someone would have called them in sooner. Unless . . . Unless neither Clan was truly innocent and they didn’t want the Council sneaking around.
But once the Council arrived, they would have made sure to do a thorough job. They wouldn’t leave a witch with a vendetta behind in the city to cause destruction.
“And what about you two?” I ask Coral and Lexie, still trying to make sense of everything. “You said you weren’t from the city. How did you get involved?”
Lexie rubs her thumb along her bandaged hand. “Coral and I met at a Women in STEM luncheon at NYU. Her family is from Connecticut. Mine’s from Chicago. I could tell right away that she was a Caster. We can sense each other.”
I nod. “Elementals, too.”
“Anyway, we ran into Tori a few weeks later on a trip to the MoMA for our first-year seminar course.”
Coral smiles at the memory. “We managed to convince housing to switch us into the same room in the dorms, but Lex’s experiments kept setting off the fire alarms. Everyone hated us. So, when Tori invited us to move in with her, we couldn’t say no.”
“And when she told us about the Blood Witch,” Lexie adds, “we agreed to help however we could. Casters stick together.”
“Elementals, too,” Veronica says, echoing my earlier statement. She finally looks at me, her gaze full of pleading.
I still feel like I’m missing something, but I’m not sure whether that’s because there are holes in Tori’s story or because the Council isn’t as infallible as my parents have always made it seem. I guess it’s possible the Council missed a Blood Witch the last time they were here. Reluctantly, I nod to Veronica.
She beams. “How can we help?”
Chapter Eight
It takes Tori a solid ten minutes to convince Coral and Lexie to let Veronica and I help. After, it takes another twenty minutes to explain their plan to us. When they’re done, though, I’m still not entirely sure I understand exactly what they’re trying to do.
They want guaranteed protection from the Blood Witch, who has been trying to either kill them or drive them out of the city, depending on which Caster tells the story. I felt so foolish asking for constant clarifications that I eventually stopped. Lexie explained that the first phase of the Casters’ plan is to identify and capture the Blood Witch. After that, she veered into all sorts of technical potion-making talk that I didn’t understand.
And despite all their explanations, I’m still not entirely sure why the two Clans are at each other’s throats. You’d think a city this size would be big enough for both of them.
Apparently, it’s not.
But Veronica wants us to help, so we try. I sketch what little I remember of the Blood Witch’s face, but lips and the tip of a nose aren’t much to go on. Veronica tries to scry for the Blood Witch using a deep bowl filled with water, but she won’t even let me watch. She claims it’s because Lady Ariana made her promise to keep the advanced magic a secret from me, but she doesn’t let the Casters watch either. I wonder if part of her is worried she won’t be able to do it. It hasn’t been that long since she’s learned, and I doubt she’s practiced much yet.
In the end, whether through V’s inexperience with scrying or something the Blood Witch has done to cloak their presence—if that’s even possible—Veronica’s efforts are as useless as mine. The Casters thank us when we leave a little after two A.M., but I can’t help feeling like we’ve accomplished nothing.
When we make it back to the hotel, we ride the elevator in silence.
Silence is a funny thing. It can be warm and comforting, filled with promise and the electricity of knowing the other person loves you beyond words. This is a different kind of silence. It’s heavy with dread and half-started thoughts, ideas killed before they could reach our lips.
I hate this feeling. Hate watching Veronica leave with barely a wave. I know she’s disappointed we couldn’t do more to help the Casters, maybe even embarrassed that the Blood Witch remained hidden from her newbie scrying attempt. It feels like she resents that our lives will be back to normal in less than twenty-four hours. Like she resents me for wanting to put all this behind us and go home, and I don’t know how to fix it.
When I get to my room, Gemma is still asleep. I slip in the door and ease it shut with a quiet snick. My eyes adjust to the dark, and I smile when I can see my best friend. Her blonde hair is mussed, and she sleeps with her mouth hanging open. Unconscious, Gem loses every graceful bone in her dancer’s body.
In the hazy light coming through the curtains, I dress in the pajamas I’d discarded on the floor and crawl into bed. I try to sleep, but my mind races with thoughts I wish I’d never unearthed. Inter-clan feuds. Injured witches. The lingering hollowness in my chest when I ask the worst of the questions again and again.
Why did Veronica let me chase after the Blood Witch alone?
I must fall asleep at some point, because I wake to the shuffling of feather-light feet against the floor.
In the golden light of morning, a silhouette glides across the carpeted floor, each step and pivot exact. I don’t know the technical terms for what she’s doing, but watching Gem feels like witnessing her own personal brand of magic. Her body moves with such intensity it’s like she carries the power of a thousand suns beneath the surface of her skin.
I wish I could hear whatever music she’s dancing to, but even in the silence her movement is stunning. There’s an artistry to each spin and leap and arc of her arms. It’s almost as if she controls the fall of each strand of hair and the exact curve of each finger.
Gemma spins and reaches an arm toward the ceiling, like she could grasp the clouds and hold them tight in her hand. She holds the pose, breathing heavily, and I break into quiet applause.
She spins, ripping out her earbuds as her face burns red. “How long have you been watching?”
“Not long.” I yawn and check my phone for the time. “Gem . . .” I bury my face in the pillows. “Why are you up before six?” I’ve barely had any sleep.
“To practice. Obviously.” Gem plops down on my bed and shoves my legs out of the way. “I was inspired by the city. I will live here someday. Besides, there are solo tryouts at the studio next week. I need that number perfect if I want the lead in the summer recital.”
“There isn’t a dancer in all of Massachusetts . . .” I lose my words to another yawn. “ . . . let alone Salem who could get that solo over you.”
“I appreciate the confidence, Hannah, but I have to be at the top of my game.”
“I know. Tha
t’s why I love you.”
“Speaking of things you love . . .” Gemma raises her eyebrows suggestively. “Where did you disappear to last night?”
“Where did I what?” I pretend I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I’m cursing inside. Veronica and I forgot to coordinate an explanation if either of our roommates noticed we were gone.
Gemma swats my knee. “Since when do you keep your love life a secret? It’s not like you and Veronica are quiet when you make out.”
I groan. “Are we really that bad?”
“Let’s just say I’m glad you moved your date somewhere else.” She laughs as I bury my head in the pillows, but when I don’t immediately emerge, she stops. “Hannah?” She’s tentative now. Reassuring instead of teasing. “Is something wrong?”
Besides everything? “No. Just tired.” I let myself yawn again to prove my point.
“This isn’t just tired.” Gemma studies my face, and I try to make it as neutral as possible. This is one of the few downsides to having a best friend you’ve known your whole life. Gem can read every mood that crosses my face, even when I’m trying to hide it.
Especially when I’m trying to hide it.
“Come on, Hannah. I know you. You spent half the night making out with your girlfriend. You should have a ridiculous grin all over your face. Did something happen?”
“Nothing happened . . . Not exactly.” My sleep-deprived brain struggles to find a way to explain the night I had without mentioning anything Clan related. Gem can never know about that, no matter how much I wish I could tell her everything. “Things just got a bit . . . weird with Veronica.”
Suspicion creases Gemma’s brow. “Weird how?”
Ugh. This would be so much easier if Gem wasn’t a Reg, if I could explain what happened. If I could lay out all the details for her inspection, she could tell me that I’m overreacting. That it doesn’t mean anything that Veronica stayed with the Casters instead of following me to the roof.
This Spell Can't Last Page 5
