Page 37

Thirty-Four

HARLOW

The sun has long dipped behind the mountaintops by the time we finish talking, and it’s all so much to process.

Morgan takes our mugs to the counter to get more tea, leaving me with my thoughts. The most pressing is the sun has set and Alec’s probably on his way.

Morgan returns to the table and slides me a fresh drink. Her thoughts were obviously where mine are, if her comment is any indication. “Sun’s down. Your vampire will be here soon, I imagine. How would you like us to handle him?”

“Us?”

“He won’t broach the town, so we can ignore his presence, but I worry for the innocent humans in the area and what he may do. Or I can take the coven and we’ll deal with him.”

Oh. No, I don’t want that. Not at all. Alec’s strong, but against an entire coven of fully fledged witches? He’d likely lose, and that isn’t what I want.

“Um, I don’t know, but I don’t want him harmed.”

She gives me a curious look over the rim of her mug but says nothing. The steam floats from the dark liquid, tangling with the air when I blow on it before testing a sip.

“How many coven members are there?”

“Twenty. Not counting the four babies born in the last couple years.”

That’s twenty people she’d ask to protect me if I wanted her to. That’s also twenty powerful people who’d overpower Alec, and it’s with that thought driving up my panic I repeat, “If he comes, I’ll deal with him.”

Another strange look, and yet again, no comment. The room falls blissfully silent as we both sip our drinks. It feels like only moments later, Morgan slides her mug away, gaining my attention.

“When was the last circle you participated in?”

“Years ago,” I reply, my heart aching with a low pang. “It was the night before my eighteenth birthday.”

“That’s six years !” Her exclamation rocks the table, my tea sloshing up the side of the mug. “For fuck’s sake, they made you mortal.”

“I suppose so, yeah.” There weren’t many growing up that I can recall—but then again, who’s to say how confident my memory is? When I turned eighteen, we never did them, despite my few requests. Thinking about it, Mom always seemed uncomfortable when I asked, and it was that reason I never snuck the supplies to do it on my own.

No wonder Hecate hasn’t been answering me; I abandoned her before she abandoned me.

“Mom and Dad—I mean, Violet and Arthur, we didn’t hold many ceremonies or anything like that. They didn’t seem to enjoy them.”

A shadow encompasses her expression as she gestures for me to stand and follow. “Those who play with black magick often avoid honouring nature and the Goddess, so I’m not that surprised.”

By the door, she waves her hand and sends our mugs flying into the sink, the tap briefly turning on to rinse them. Violet always limited magick usage in the house, fearing humans nearby would accidentally spot us. Living in a tiny town only surrounded by fellow witches certainly has the benefit of not hiding.

“I take it, then, it’s been some time since you’ve participated in a Full Moon Ceremony?”

“That would be never.”

She stops short in the entrance to the living room, and I crash into her back with a low oomph . “I’m sorry, Harlow. Fuck, it’s not fair how much you missed out on.”

“If it helps, I didn’t realize how much I missed out on, so I never really missed it.”

Her glare suggests it doesn’t ease her guilt, but it’s true. I’d read about some of the ceremonies within Gram’s grimoires, but when I broached the subject as a child, it was often met with disinterest. One can only beg so many times before learning to give up asking, so by the time adulthood came, the patterns my parents had became mine. Besides, I had no idea how to run a circle or a Full Moon Ceremony, or if they’d even work if I was the only one in them. The grimoires conveniently left out the instructions.

Truth is…hearing everything I could and should have experienced stings. Yeah, I miss having a group of twenty witches and warlocks I call family. I miss the ceremonies. The connection to Hecate. Only, I never realized until now I miss those things.

“Sometimes on the full moon and holidays, I’d light a candle in Her honour. Say a blessing. But that’s it.”

Morgan’s expression would be calmer had I told her I murder people daily.

“Well, by happy coincidence, tomorrow is the full moon, which means the entire coven will gather. If you’d like, you can not only join us, but it’ll be your official introduction. You can watch or participate; up to you, since I understand this might be overwhelming.”

“I want to join,” I reply instantly and without thought. “I won’t know what to do, but I’ll figure it out.” I think.

Morgan clasps my hands between hers as her shoulders lower with her deep breath. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. It’s strange having you back.” She reaches up, tucking a strand of hair around my ear, her touch gentle—a mother’s touch. “It’s like having your mother again. You look so much like her, you know. When I first saw you, for a moment I thought you were her.”

“You two were close, weren’t you?” It’s how Morgan speaks about my real mom that suggests it.

“The closest. We grew up as best friends. Your parents made me your guardian. Your godmother would be the mortal term, in case you weren’t taught terminology. In the case of their deaths, it was up to me to protect you, and while I’ve failed so far, I won’t any longer.”

What do I say to that? What can I, when it feels like she’s ripped me off the bit of stability I was clinging to, all to move me to a larger and more stable platform.

“Thank you.”

“Never thank me for doing what’s right,” she replies, turning into the living room. “Would you be interested in a circle right now? I know it’s late, so it doesn’t have to be much.”

Despite the exhaustion that made me ragged earlier, it feels like I wouldn’t be able to sleep even if I tried. Not when she’s offering me a lifetime of catch-up.

“I’d like that.”

Morgan shows me the chest of extra candles, purified crystals, and bundles of herbs in the corner of the room. She lays out four candles and places obsidian and quartz— crystals intended for protection—on the floor with herbs between each one, connecting them in a circle large enough to consume most of the floor’s space, about four feet wide.

She gestures to the green candle nearest me. “North, representing Earth. It’s air, fire, and water, going clockwise.” She points to each one as her finger rotates in the air. “Four elements, four directions. Calling the elements in ceremony deviates from the pentacle’s design. The elements’ positions, for one, and also the exclusion of spirit. Spirit, in my opinion, encompasses everything. All four elements, all four directions, and anyone involved. It’s inside us, and thus, inherently part of the ritual.” She holds out a hand for me. “Join me.”

I step into the circle with her, careful not to mess up the unlit candles and other ingredients, and position myself nearest to the candle representing fire, directly across from her.

She gestures for me to lower to the floor, and I get into a kneeling position like she does, trepidation and excitement running through me. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this connection with the elements, and we haven’t even begun.

“Ready?” she checks, and only with my deep breath and nod does she throw her hand towards the candle facing North and begin the incantation.

“Spirit of the North, I summon you.

Bring forth the essence of Earth to deliver us.”

The flame ignites instantly—but not with a flame. Rather, a wisp of tiny, green leaves swirl in a circle, no higher than a candle flame.

Whoa. The last circle Mom and Dad held, the candles were lit by flames, not the elements. Though, whether that was a proper circle now remains to be seen.

Morgan steps closer to the candle positioned to the East and repeats a similar incantation before lighting the final two candles, all while I remain in awe.

“Spirit of the East, I summon you.

Bring forth the essence of Air to connect us.

Spirit of the South, I summon you.

Bring forth the essence of Fire to purify us.

Spirit of the West, I summon you.

Bring forth the essence of Water to heal us.”

One by one, the candles ignite with their respective elements: a mini tornado, a warming flame, and a large water drop that dances the same way as fire.

All at once, I feel them in ways I haven’t before. The invigorating scent of earth, the welcoming brush of air, the warming comfort of fire, and the cool wash of water. They combine in the circle, wrapping me in their fold, taking my mind and soul away from my body and to a better place. A place without worries and stress, without old plots and deception. For now, it’s me and Morgan and the spirits. Nothing more, nothing less.

Morgan sits across from me and holds out her hands, palms up, for me to take. I slide my hands into hers, holding her as she does me. Her eyes shut but mine remain open, compelled by the swirls of power radiating in the space.

“The circle is now open. Blessed Be, Harlow.”

“Blessed Be, Morgan,” I reply, the words strange on my tongue. The last time I said the traditional greeting to my parents was… have I ever?

“Hecate, I thank you, Goddess of Life and All Things, of Witchcraft and all we hold dear, for returning Harlow to our arms. We promise to love and protect her for all the years she spends on your sacred earth but ask for your blessing as well.”

The spiritual flames above each candle flicker out and then back on, and a hypnotic enchantment falls upon the circle, making me gasp. A brush of a hand that isn’t Morgan’s, a whisper of words unspoken and unheard—She’s here.

I want to cry. Weep and apologize for every instance I assumed She’s forsaken me.

“Do you feel that?” Morgan murmurs with a smile.

“Yeah. It’s…I can’t even describe it.”

“I understand.”

My eyes flutter shut to chase Her caress, but then a coolness falls on my shoulders and Her touch is suddenly gone. Something invisible slithers around my neck, and that menacing voice from earlier interrupts. You’re mine , it says, chasing away the Goddess and everything good.

I gasp, ripping my arms from Morgan, trying to make sense of what that was, how to describe what happened when I hear another voice, and just like that, the safety the circle gave me zaps away, even though Morgan hasn’t closed it yet. Too soon, reality returns like a wall crushing everything I hold dear.

Harlow.

He’s here. Of course, he’s here.

“Morgan—”

The door crashes open, banging against the wall, and Morgan leaps to her feet, hopping over the candles in her rush towards the hallway. I run after her, throwing myself between the two enemies before either gets hurt.

“How the fuck did you enter the town, vampire?”

He’s here. The fact he got through the wards Morgan claimed were around town becomes unimportant compared to the sight of him, which I can’t help but drink in. His hair, blown back and windswept, presumably from his run, and his black eyes that are entirely focused on me while ignoring the witch who’s a much greater threat. His chest rises and falls with breaths he doesn’t have to take, his nostrils flaring as he studies me from head to toe, a rumble filling the hallway.

I force my back to him, his gaze caressing my spine with the same pressure his hands would. My body is hyper-aware of his presence, like everything existing between us before yesterday no longer matters.

But it does. A lot.

“Don’t,” I warn Morgan. “He won’t hurt you. He’s here for me.”

“You’re protecting him?” Her hands lower. “I thought…no matter.” She shakes her head, focusing on him again. “The barrier is designed to keep any witch, vampire, or shifter not born of Highridge Coven out. How did you get through?”

“Walked over the town’s line,” he replies, his voice a dark rumble I feel in the base of my stomach. “Not my fault your spells aren’t up to par.”

Morgan stares considerably at him before glancing at me, back and forth as her conclusion is drawn. “He drank your blood. He has some of you inside him. That’s how.”

“I’m only here for Harlow. Then I’ll leave.”

“That won’t be happening.” Morgan slips her arm around my waist and yanks me away from him before I can properly react.

Alec’s eyes flash a threatening red, and he narrows in on where she’s holding me. I’ve seen this look before. The look before attacking, like he had at the party and my room. If he thinks I’m threatened?—

I push away to place myself between them, shaking my head to ask her to stop fighting—and him to not attack. “I’ll speak with him, it’s fine. We won’t go anywhere.”

Her lips fold together as she debates what she doesn’t truly have a say in before finally coming to the same conclusion with a resigned sigh. “If that’s what you want. Not in here, though. I won’t have a vampire inside my home. Go around back so no one sees him.” To Alec, she adds, “You harm her, I’ll be coming for your fangs.”

“I’d rather rip them out myself if I do,” he replies, his words echoing around the confused and empty cavities of my heart.

Ignoring the turbulent sensation, I step outside and scan the area to make sure we’re alone. Given it’s the middle of the night, most of the nearby homes have their lights off.

I lead Alec around the side of the house towards the small, fenced-in area, passing through the waist-high gate. It’s too dark to make out anything but the single thick tree in the corner and a few planter boxes towards the other side.

The moment my feet cross the backyard’s threshold, the wind picks up. No, wait—that’s because hands grip my hips, turning me around, and then my back’s against the tree after having been rushed across the yard, an imposing body trapping me there.

Defend yourself. He trapped you. Took all your choices. He’s the enemy. A coolness wraps around my wrists, tempting the shadows to return. Remember how good it felt claiming control of your destiny yesterday, when you pinned him to the wall? Think about ? —

Alec’s rough, dizzying kiss silences the voice, claiming every ounce of that very control for himself.