But when I peer into the open doorway, the eyes peering back at me don’t belong to Baz, Ani, Kirin, or Doc.
“Casey?” I cock my head, wondering what the hell brought her out here tonight after weeks of radio silence.
She nods once, then steps aside, revealing the true reason for her visit—the one witch in the entire magickal universe whosedefinitelynot on the Witch-’N-Bitch guest list.
I’m just drunk enough to be a total cunt about it too. And withthisuninvited guest? Trust me, I’ve earned it.
“Good evening, Anna.” I flash a wide grin, then swing the saber in a wide arc, touching the tip to her throat. “You’ve got thirty seconds to justify your existence before I pop your head off like a cork.”
Thirty-One
STEVIE
She sits alone in the armchair next to the fireplace, sipping her tea like the Queen she believes she is, flames crackling in the hearth behind her. The whole scene is like something out of a nightmare fairytale, the kind they used to tell kids in the Victorian era, scaring them into good behavior.
Her unexpected arrival ushered in a swift end to our Witch-’N-Bitch fun, chasing off the last of my buzz and popping our perfect little bubble of magickal miracles. As soon as the guys heard the confrontation unfolding outside, they came charging out en masse, more than eager to spell her ass right back to whatever shadowy alley she slithered out of tonight.
But in the end, I could neither send her away nor make good on my threat to decapitate her with a champagne saber.
Because Anna Trello brought me peace offering I couldn’t refuse.
Books.
Two of them, to be precise, now stacked on the table at her side, emanating a force of magick and power so welcoming, so intimate, there’s no doubt in my mind they’re authentic.
My mother’s grimoire, and Journey Through the Void of Mist and Spirit. A collection I came to know—in my brief tenure as an Arcana Academy student and researcher of dark prophecies both ancient and new—as the Book of Shadow and Mists.
Mybooks, stolen by Professor Phaines the night he drugged, kidnapped, and tortured me. Stolen back by Anna Trello, presumably after his demise at her hand.
Now, seated on the sofa surrounded by Carly, Isla, and Nat, the guys and Casey Appleton an immovable wall behind us, Professors Maddox and Broome a formidable force hovering beside Trello, I give my former headmistress a glare that would set a lesser witch on fire.
But if she’s intimidated at all by the show of magickal force, she doesn’t reveal it; her energy is as cold and stoic as her eyes.
“Agent Eastman is no longer recognizing my authority at Arcana Academy,” she says now, teacup and saucer balanced primly in her lap. “I’m essentially a fugitive in his eyes, deemed unfit to lead and protect our students. My office has been overrun, my personal quarters sealed with magick I can’t access. He’s called in several others to support his claims, and I’ve spent the past few weeks off-campus, searching a vast network of underground magickal communities for any information that might help us.”
“And?” Casey asks. For all their so-called partnering up, she doesn’t seem too thrilled with Trello at the moment either. “What did you learn?”
“Everyone is too afraid to speak out,” Trello says. “Which is exactly how they want us. Scared and docile. More than willing to trade our basic freedoms for the perception of safety. Easy to manipulate.”
“So who’s helping out Eastman?” I ask. “More APOA guys?”
Trello shakes her head. “These men are… They’re different. They’re all mages, clearly part of a formalized organization or network, but nothing legitimate as far as I can tell. They operate in secrecy and shadow, rarely speaking in the presence of outsiders. There’s a darkness among them, an energy that chills the very blood.”
“Do you think they’ve got any connection to the so-called Soldiers of Light?” Doc asks.
“I have no idea, Cassius. We don’t even know whether the Soldiers exist or are merely a ploy by the true terrorists to further incriminate witches and mages. We don’t know whether Eastman and his men are involved with them or with the attacks at large. Everything about this is a mystery—one that grows darker and deeper with each passing day.”
“So that’s it?” Ani smirks at her, pacing beside the couch like some kind of criminal prosecutor about to roast the star defense witness. Nothing about his demeanor feels familiar to me. He’s almost a different person, his ordeal in the dream realm stealing more than just time.
Behind me, Kirin squeezes my shoulder, and Carly shifts closer to me on the sofa, as if they both can sense my unease.
If only Ani was as perceptive.
“That’s all you’ve got?” he presses. “A mystery that grows darker and deeper every day?” He barks out a harsh laugh, one so uncharacteristic, so unlike our light and happy Sun Arcana it makes my skin crawl. “Someoneis burning cities to the ground, incinerating children, destroying cultural landmarks, and blaming it all on your fellow witches and mages, and that’s all you’ve got to say about it? You don’t know this, you don’t know that… Honestly, Headmistress. With such a profound lack of knowledge, it’s a wonder you achieved such an esteemed position at the Academy at all.”
“Do not presume, Mr. McCauley, that you knowanythingabout my knowledge or experience, in this matter or any other. Classes may be on hold for the foreseeable future, but I am still your headmistress, and I demand your respect.” She takes another sip of her tea, her hands rock steady. But despite her cool demeanor, her energy has shifted, the ice fracturing just enough to reveal a hint of real emotion beneath.
Fear. Uncertainty. Regret.
