Page 18 of The Witch's Pet

“And…where are they?”

“Before mysleep—” I huff. “—we lived in cottages on the outskirts of Fort Langley. Does that still exist?”

Confusion creases Hannah’s brow. “Yes. But I think the people who live there would’ve noticed a coven of witches living in town.”

“You would be surprised by how easily we can hide.” The thought of finding Rebecca makes my blood sing with anticipation.

Hannah pushes to her feet, swaying. “Okay. Let’s go.”

I peer out the window, but it’s too dark to see outside. “By what conveyance will we travel? Have you horses?”

She stares at me, then lets out a short, incredulous laugh. “Um, no. But there’s a bus that runs to Fort Langley.”

I narrow my eyes. “An omnibus? Like a stagecoach?”

“No, it’s motorized, like…the car you…earlier…” She shifts, hugging herself.

Ah, the man I tried to kill. How efficient. “Wonderful. Take me to thisbus. And I’ll need shoes.”

Minutes later, my feet are encased in something she calledBirkenstocks, and I’m questioning humanity’s decision to do away with horses. The bus is a hulking metal beast that wheezes and groans as it lurches through the dark streets, moving faster than any horse I’ve seen. It belches smoke into the already foul air, and the interior smells faintly rotten. Ghastly lights flicker overhead, casting a yellow glow over the other passengers. Through the grimy windows, more lights streak past. Every surface is sticky, but I have no choice but to grip the seat beneath me for balance as we sway around a corner.

“They let anyone ride these things?” I ask, eyeing the handful of other people on board.

A woman is speaking into a small black object, laughing at someone who isn’t there. Is she mad? Possessed? But no one else seems concerned.

Near the front, an older man keeps turning back to look at Hannah. Even when he’s facing away, his reflection in the dark window shows him still watching us. It makes me want to curse his eyes right out of his head.

“Anyone with fare.” Hannah sinks deeper into her seat, either oblivious to the man’s stares or purposely ignoring him. “You’ll need me to get around since you don’t have money.”

How inconvenient. But I suppose it’s not like I could leave her side even if I wanted to.

I reach for my magic, testing its edges. Normally, I could compel, curse, shield, hex, and strike my way out of any problem. I could crack the earth beneath us or crush this entire structure to dust. But the incomplete feeding has given me limited power, which I will need to carefully conserve. The idea puts a strange twist in my gut.

Out the window, the world has changed beyond recognition. Everything is huge and sprawling. Buildings stretch skyward like glass and metalmountains. Where there were dirt roads and wooden walkways, there are now smooth stone paths marked with painted lines. Instead of gas lamps, towering poles are topped with harsh lights so bright they turn night into day. The sights drive a cold, hollow feeling into my soul. Did Rebecca know how cruel it would be to make me powerless in a world I don’t recognize?

“You okay?” Hannah asks.

Her tone is surprisingly concerned. When was the last time anyone asked how I’m faring?

“I’m quite well,” I lie, watching another metal beast roar past mere inches away. “The world is simply different from what I remember.”

“I bet. 118 years is a long time.”

Her reminder of the number of years that have passed churns my stomach. I’ve been trying not to think of it, but I will soon have to face the truth: how many of my coven sisters are still alive? Old age would not have come for them yet, but that’s not to say other forces didn’t.

As the night darkens and we weave through the streets, I study Hannah’s profile in the glow of the passing lamps. She has recovered from our feeding session, showing more resilience than I expected from such a delicate creature. But there is tension in her shoulders and tightness around her eyes that suggests she’s not as unaffected as she’s trying to appear.

Good. I need her to stay motivated to break this infuriating spell—and strong enough to withstand what comes next. I will need to do a more powerful feeding ritual with her soon, whether she can take it or not.

But there are so many unknowns about her. How did that journal end up in her possession? What role does she play in Rebecca’s larger design?

The curse may have made me weak, but I cannot let Hannah see how desperate I am for answers, for power, and for any connection to the world I knew. Though the binding spell has forced us together, that doesn’t mean I must trust her. Not when the journal that imprisoned me found its way into her hands.

6

Hannah

Asthebustakesus down the highway toward what I hope to God is Julia’s old coven, Julia grips her seat like the driver is about to hit an Eject button. When a semi-truck roars past, she flinches.