“Wait! Sir—” I unhooked my seatbelt and scrambled from the car. This couldn’t be happening. Ghosts existed, without a doubt, but sightings were rare, and they weren’t usually out walking their dogs. The headlights had probably just made him seem ghostly. Which meant there was an excellent chance I’d almost turned a living, breathing man into roadkill. A man who’d probably noted my license plate and planned to report me for reckless driving.
The breath caught in my throat.His dog!Swallowing a lump of dread, I quickly scanned the trees before casting a ball of light inside my palm. Crouching on my ankles, I bent to check underneath the car. Gravel crunched beneath my feet as I moved the light from side to side.
Relief coursed through me, and I blew out a breath. There was nothing there. Using the ball of light, I searched both sides of the road. They were empty except for the tall grass and weeds leading into the dense trees.
“Sir? Do you need any help? I can call someone,” I shouted into the dark.
A bark answered. I spotted another flash of light inside the trees. It was much smaller and low to the ground. The pup probably had an illuminated device attached to its collar.
“I think I found your dog.” Lifting the light in my palm, I chased after it, hoping to reunite the pet with its owner. It was the least I could do after nearly running the man over. Hopefully, it would also smooth over any compulsion he had to report me.
Thick branches tugged my uniform as I moved through the trees. I followed a rustling sound and the faint glow until I ended up on a narrow dirt drive. Another bark sounded. The dog paused next to a weathered sign protruding out of the ground. The sign was covered in grime, and the letters were hard to read, but I squinted to make out the words.
Clarke Manor.
The icy chill that had been chasing me for weeks intensified. I peered down the lane, unable to see anything beyond overgrown weeds. Whatever lay at the end was likely abandoned or at the very least surrounded by “no trespassing” signs.
“Let’s go, Loki. Enough mischief for tonight.” The gruff voice filtered through the trees. I watched, wide-eyed, as the glowing man appeared and walked straight through a wooden fence.
Okay, so definitely a ghost.Technically my first, if you didn’t count an early obsession with a Ouija board when I was seven.
A moment later, the dog let out a final bark, and both figures vanished, leaving me standing alone in front of the sign.What a wild encounter!I couldn’t wait to tell Tanya. She’d be so jealous.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t time to do any ghost-hunting. I was already late for work. Making a mental note to research hauntings in the area, I turned to head back to my car.
I’d only made it a few steps when something about the sign caught my eye. A design had been carved into the wood. Reaching onto my toes, I brushed away the dirt and used the light in my palm to reveal the marking. The knot in my stomach tightened. It was a familiar symbol, mostly swirls, converging into a starburst center.
I’d seen it before, hundreds of times. Pulling up the sleeve of my shirt, I revealed a matching mark.
A Spellwork symbol.
The sign of a witch.
Chapter 2
“You’re late.” My boss stood in the doorway, French-tipped nails drumming her hips, while I stored my belongings in the row of cubicles reserved for waitstaff. The din of pots and pans, shouts from servers, and clinking glassware sounded over her shoulder.
“Sorry, Angela. There was something in the road on the way here. I almost had an accident.”
The banquet captain’s sculpted brows drew together, deepening the fine lines around her eyes. She ran a tight ship, and I steeled myself for one of her many lectures on the importance of punctuality regardless of circumstance. To my surprise, she plastered on a strained smile and tossed me a wine key instead.
“There’s no time for excuses. We’re short-staffed tonight, and I’m dealing with a new trainee. We need another case of merlot brought up from storage. Open the bottles, prepare a tray of glasses, and I want you on the floor in ten.”
I cringed at my least favorite task. Not only was the storage room a spider-infested den of horrors, but I also hated passing wine. The guests would bump and prod me, swiping glasses from the tray unexpectedly while I’d juggle to balance the shifting weight. It was a minefield a simple anchor spell couldn’t solve. The one time I’d tried the spell, it had made lifting the glasses as difficult as picking up watermelon seeds from the kitchen floor. Needless to say, I’d made things worse.
“What are you waiting for? Go!” Angela snapped her fingers and waved me out the door.
I dropped the wine key into my pocket and grumbled a curse under my breath.
It was a short walk to the swinging doors that led to the storage area. Servers brushed past me, carrying pitchers of water and bread baskets, the soles of their shoes squeaking over the kitchen tile. The sounds were muffled as the door closed behind me, and I made my way down a narrow hall. Recessed lighting cast an eerie glow against the walls, making the hallway feel as if it were closing in with each step. I walked on autopilot, still reliving the strange encounter on the road.
Why was there a Spellwork symbol carved into the wooden sign? As far as I knew, there weren’t any council operations in Thornbridge. Not that it mattered if there were—council gatherings could only be attended by invitation, and the Graves had a standing “don’t bother” status. Still, I should think I would have heard about it . . .
Focus, Elle. None of that matters.
Ghost sightings and occult symbols were somebody else’s problem. What mattered was passing my economics midterm and working enough shifts to save for a down payment on a new shop space. Magic didn’t pay the bills—at least, not yet—but tips from the country club were making a nice dent. Nothing else in Thornbridge paid nearly as well. I couldn’t lose this job, and my boss was known for going on firing rampages for the smallest offenses.
I hurried down a short flight of stairs. The wooden treads creaked beneath my feet like a scene from a horror movie. In the storage room, crates of votive candles and folded tablecloths were stacked against one wall. Next to them were shelves of seasonal decorations set above rows of extra chairs. A mechanical lift used for deliveries sat in the corner.
