Page 25 of The Witch's Pet

I snarl. How dare she—

“More importantly…” She steps closer, clenching her fists. “If you try to kill anyone again, I will jump off a bridge and let the binding spell take you down with me.”

Is she mad or bluffing? This girl is as infuriating as she is intriguing.

I peer down at her. “You wouldn’t.”

“I released you, so the deaths would be on my conscience. So either you agree to feed on me and leave everyone else alone, or we both die.”

Hm.I’ve managed to fire her up. Does she really have leverage over me? Would she kill us both to save a stranger? The fierce light in her eyes tells me she means it.

“Why are you so determined to protect people you don’t know?” I ask.

“It’s called empathy. You should try it sometime.”

“I prefer efficiency.” I step even closer, and to my delight, she falters and steps back. So I keep going, backing her against the wall to show her who is in control. When she bumps into it with a hitched breath, I flatten my palms on the rough brick on either side of her head, caging her in. “You’d best not let your stubborn nobility get in the way of what needs to be done tonight, Hannah.”

“If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working,” she whispers.

I bend closer, staring into her wide eyes that betray how afraid she is. “Liar. I could end you with a thought, and you know it.”

“But you won’t.”

The binding spell relaxes in my chest as we stand so close, and I breathe easier. A warm sensation starts in my core and spreads outward until my lips tingle.

The way Hannah bites her lip is distracting, making me forget what I’m supposed to be doing.

Then something hits my senses, and I spin.

There.A flutter, as faint as a moth’s wing, brushes my skin from the south. The tracking spell, pitiful as it was, actually caught something.

My fury dissipates like smoke.

“This way.” I stride back the way we came, following the invisible trail.

“What? Do you sense someone?” Hannah asks, running to keep up.

I don’t respond, staying focused. My heart pounds. After 118 years, my coven is still leaving traces. Could that mean they are alive and well, rightwhere I left them? It would be unusual for a coven to stay put for so many decades, but not unheard of.

Hannah hurries to keep up, her footsteps crunching on fallen leaves. “Where are you going?”

I don’t know, so I don’t answer.

After a long moment, we arrive at an iron fence.

On the other side, visible among the swirling white fog, are headstones.

My breath hitches.

Wet earth and rotting leaves fill my nostrils, the same smell that clung to Elizabeth’s skirts after we buried Eloise in this very cemetery in 1885. We stood in a circle that night, holding hands while we sang the old death songs.

And if the spell is leading me here…

My insides plummet, leaving a cold void.Are they all dead?

God, if Rebecca died and took the secret of her binding spell to the grave… If I’m the last person alive who knows any of us ever mattered…

No. I can’t give up hope. The tracking spell could be leading me to anyone.