“You’re bleeding,” he said quietly.“Your hands—and your cheek.”
“I’m fine,” I said automatically.
His look said he didn’t believe me for a second.“We’ll deal with that,” he murmured.Then, more firmly, “He’s right.It’s time.”
I let him guide me back into the store and down the hall to Dougal’s office again.This time, Dougal shut the door firmly behind us before leaning against the desk.
The fluorescent lights hummed overhead.I sank into the same chair as before, my scraped hands resting gingerly in my lap, palms still stinging every time I flexed my fingers.Owen sat close enough that our shoulders brushed—close enough that his presence felt steady.
“There is something you don’t know about us, Piper,” Dougal said.He looked tired.Older.“Your aunt asked us to protect you.”
“Before she died?”I asked, glancing between them.
“Yes,” Owen said.“She knew you’d come back to Hickory Hollow with no idea what was happening here.She didn’t want you walking into it alone.”
“That’s right,” Dougal agreed.“And we’ve been trying to honor that.But there are rules.Lines.Timing.”
“Well, I don’t know anything,” I said, scowling.“And it seems like you two know a lot more than you’re letting on.Why didn’t you tell me from the beginning?”
“Because you weren’t ready,” Dougal said simply.
“That’s not fair.”The words snapped out before I could stop them.“If I’m supposed to do my ‘job’—whatever that is—I need all the information.First Alice keeps me in the dark.Now you.And why did it seem like no one in town could see that demon?Or the light?Or the fire?”
“Because they couldn’t,” Owen said.“My father and I have the ability to conceal things like that from the general populace.Glamours.Veils.Call them what you want.”
“How?”I demanded, looking between them.
Owen pressed his lips into a thin line.It was Dougal who answered.
“We are Druids, Piper.Most folks would call us witches,” he added with a wry smile, “but our order is older—and a bit more particular—than that.We’re Druids.”
I stared at him.“Druids,” I repeated flatly.“As in robes and stone circles and human sacrifice?That kind of druid?”
“Not that kind,” Dougal said dryly.“We’re Druids of the ancient Celts.Our clans survived.We moved.We adapted.But our purpose stayed the same.We’re here to protect—this world, and the ones brushing against it—from evil and from those who would seize too much power.Though not all were interested in protecting the world.”
“What does that mean?”I asked.
“Some decided guarding power wasn’t enough.They wanted to wield it for themselves.”
Demons.Ley lines.Druids.The potential Sword of Light sitting in a crate across the hall.
A shiver rippled over my skin.
“And my Aunt Alice was also a witch?”I asked.
“Yes,” Dougal said.“She was born that way.Magic ran strong in her blood.”
I thought of the pictures on the mantel.The way Alice always seemed to understand me without words.The way Gladys never did.“But my mother…?”
“Not a witch,” Owen said quietly.“Not like Alice.”
“If you tell me they’re muggles, my head might explode,” I muttered.
Owen snorted.Dougal’s mouth tugged in something like a smile.
“No, Piper,” Dougal said.“They’re mortal.Human.Not everyone is born with magic.”
“And you?”I turned to Owen.“You’re… what?Also a druid?A witch?A wizard?A sorcerer with questionable fashion choices?”
