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Jo n

T he storm that got us stranded was well and truly gone, leaving behind a landscape that was somehow an even lusher green than before. After being at a standstill for days, long distances seemed to pass us by in a blink.

A mere day on the road had transformed the scenery around us. Much of the land was flat in northeast Texas, but here and there, piney woods rose in the landscape.

“It’s so beautiful,” Sylvia sighed, her nose pressed to the window.

Cliff ran his hands over the steering wheel wistfully. “Right?”

She snorted but didn’t tease him for misunderstanding—this time.

I didn’t keep a lot of photos on my phone. There never seemed to be a point when they didn’t aid an ongoing case. But as Sylvia gazed outside in wonderment, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a keepsake. After I snapped the picture, I found myself sending the rolling landscape in a text message.

Sylvia, seeming to sense my hesitance, looked over her shoulder with a frown. “Sending it to my aunt,” I explained. “She can show my mom in a couple weeks.”

A gentle smile lit up her face. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

A few minutes later, my phone chimed. I expected it to be my tia , but instead, Tammy’s name appeared on the screen like a stop sign to all other thoughts.

I straightened in my seat, immediately tapping the link to a news alert video she had sent.

“ Unprecedented weather has Oklahoma communities puzzled ,” the news broadcast announced.

“Holy shit,” I muttered.

“What?” Cliff asked as Sylvia flew in closer for a better look.

I drank in the information, unable to believe what I was hearing.

The past few days, there had been summer-like storms passing through Kentucky, Arkansas, and Missouri. The latest was an abrupt snowfall laced with fog in Oklahoma. The broadcast showed footage of people in downtown Tulsa, confused and delighted by the snowy day. The reporter also noted that cicadas had made an unusual appearance, extremely out of season given the sudden temperature plummet. Each word sent my heart pounding harder, and I sensed Sylvia’s rapt stare upon the screen.

Another chime. Tammy had sent a still image from the broadcast, zoomed in on a close-up on the insects. Their wings—usually translucent—were an iridescent red, sending some locals into a fearful rant about an omen of the end of days.

I waited for an explanation from Tammy, but her next message surprised me more than anything.

“ You see this shit? Steer clear. I’m handling it with a crew. Best to keep smaller numbers to avoid much more attention. My gut tells me it’s the W.V. coven on the move. Heard whispers of expansion stirring in the west mountain region. We’ll intercept them there.”

“Fuck,” I said, grimacing. “She thinks it’s the West Virginia coven.”

Cliff groaned. “Oh, those guys suck. I swear that the blonde bitch at their head is the one who cursed me.”

I smirked. “If we run into her, I’ll be sure to ask her why she thought squirrels were a fitting punishment. ”

“Who knows why witches do what they do?” Cliff scoffed. Glancing at me, his frown sobered. “For that matter—what are they doing so far from home?”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted, scrutinizing the video again. “Newsworthy chaos isn’t their M.O. I mean, usually they’re pretty predictable, but this seems more like Veloria.”

Heaviness settled in the car at the mere mention of the village, and I knew the three of us were stifling matching sets of vivid, gnawing memories. Sylvia massaged her right shoulder like she could clean away the warrior rune.

“Unprecedented weather, mutated insects…” Cliff gave a ragged sigh. “Yeah, that could be a gem as much as anything else.”

I exchanged a tentative look with Sylvia. After the setback we’d experienced, it seemed almost too good to be true.

“The path of weather patterns does seem to be heading toward the west mountains,” she breathed, searching my face. “I know Tammy says to steer clear, but… we’ve been heading in that direction anyway, haven’t we?”

“A little backup wouldn’t hurt,” Cliff said. “I’m offended we’re benched on her roster, actually.”

“Tammy hates surprises,” I reminded him.

“She’ll survive. Just keep your head down if we cross paths,” Cliff said, directing this to Sylvia.

“Oh, you don’t want me to introduce myself with a dramatic flourish? Thanks for clarifying,” she drawled.

I smiled as they continued, their back-and-forth like a balm to my nerves. I turned back to my phone, tapping out a response.

“ We’re headed east anyway ,” I lied through text.

Tammy replied with a thumbs-up emoji and left it at that. I frowned a little. Why wouldn’t she want backup? Her silence the last few months preyed on me again, raising more questions than I cared to answer. Perhaps she’d been alerted to the trouble we’d caused at the bayou outpost and wanted nothing more to do with us.

“She doesn’t have to know we’re anywhere near there,” I said firmly—though the words tasted like betrayal. Sneaking behind our mentor’s back, lying. “If the coven’s really heading for the Rockies, we’ll look into this shit ourselves.”

As silence settled, Sylvia returned to her perch by the window. She was back to her earth-toned form-fitting clothing, having buried the bloodied gown from Veloria behind the motel. She played with her knife as she gazed outside, her thumb running over the jewel in its hilt over and over. Her attempt at a relaxed posture couldn’t fool me.

“What are you thinking?” I asked softly.

She turned to me with a subdued smile. Even with a faint glimmer in her eyes, she said, “I don’t want us to get our hopes up.”

But I had a feeling we both knew it was too late for that. I tried not to think of the supposed prophecy Hannah had rasped, her brown eyes set upon me and bulging with horror.

Her love will ruin you.

It didn’t matter. Sylvia was here, and she was mine —for now.

If keeping her meant losing myself, I’d pay the price a thousand times over.