Fifty
Gray
The shovel pierced the earth with a satisfyingthwack.
“Please tell me it’s not a dead body,” Asher said, leaning against the back fence.
“It’s not.” Liam, who would definitely know if Iwasdigging up the dead, repositioned his flashlight, shaking the blond swoop of hair from his eyes. “And what is a dead body, anyway? The body is simply a vessel, never quite alive in its own right. It’s the soul that makes it so.”
Asher grunted and shook his head, jerking a thumb toward Liam. “Is he always like this?”
“You get used to it,” I said, biting back a grin.
Liam had shown up in my backyard just after the rest of us had arrived, arriving in an explosion of smoke and feathers that I was beginning to think was all for show.
Still, I was grateful for the support. I knew it was risky for him to be here in human form, and something about his presence comforted me—especially after he’d helped me with Asher tonight.
“You sure I can’t do that for you, love?” Darius asked, his own flashlight bobbing.
“Nope. I have to do it.” I hopped on the shovel, driving it into the soft earth, again and again and again, churning up the dirt. After only a few more minutes of hardcore digging, the spade hit something solid. “Bingo.”
With renewed urgency, I cleared away the rest of the dirt to reveal a small waterproof safe about twice the size of a shoebox. My heart thumped wildly in my chest, adrenaline making my fingers tingle.
No, not adrenaline. Magic.
I clenched my fists, holding it tight, still getting used to the feel of it. Still recognizing that I had a choice in the matter.
So often in life our choices were taken from us. Sometimes we never even had choices at all, maybe because of the life we were born into, or because of deals made before we were even born, or because of people in positions of power who believed that our choices—that our lives—belonged to them.
No matter how long I’d lived on my own before coming to the Bay, I realized now that my life had never truly belonged to me. To any witch, really. For millennia, the lives of witches had been shaped by corrupt men—men who’d see us driven away in fear or killed—all in their endless quest for power.
Me? Crossroads deal or not, I was done letting other people decide my fate. Done giving away my power, living in fear. Done letting other people write my story and make my choices and decide who I was meant to be.
It was time to start choosing for myself.
I tossed the shovel to the ground and dropped to my knees, reaching into the hole and hauling out the safe. I turned the combination dials on the front, then popped open the lid.
There in the center, right where I’d tucked it so many years ago, was my book of shadows. I reached for it, the triple goddess design on the cover immediately responding to my touch and warming the air around me, filling me with a sense of rightness and wholeness I hadn’t even realized I’d been missing.
I pulled the book out of the box and turned the front cover, and a tarot card slipped out—one I didn’t remember putting in there.
It was the High Priestess from Calla’s favorite deck, a beautiful winged woman with waist-length black hair and blue robes, holding a scepter topped with a crystal ball. She stood on a crescent moon that pointed upward like the one from Calla’s amulet. Butterflies danced around her.
Warmth filled my chest. Calla was still with me. She would always be with me, just like Sophie. Just like my vampire, my wolf, my two demons, and even my strange, enigmatic Death, who had somehow become as much a part of my story—my destiny—as the others.
There was still so much we didn’t know. Why the Hunter was trying to turn witches into vampires, why he’d killed some and taken others. Why he’d set the traps for us at Norah’s, only to vanish with Haley before we even arrived. Whether the vamps who’d ambushed us tonight were truly just goons-for-hire, or part of a larger conspiracy.
For all I knew, Norah had been part of that, too. Something about her packing up and leaving town right before the attack isn’t passing the smell test.
I was still struggling to make sense of the readings in Sophie’s book of shadows, and I had so much more to read through.
And my heart still ached for Bean, desperately wondering if I’d ever find her again, if her part in this story was over.
But I didn’t have to face these challenges alone. I had my rebels. We had each other.
I tucked the High Priestess back into the book and got to my feet, looking at each of my friends, nearly overcome with gratitude.
“We’re going to bring that hunter down,” I said.
