I give my head a slow shake. Idon’tknow.
“Because it’s a full moon,” Morgan elaborates. “And it won’t be for much longer.”
And that matters because?I think. “So you’re a…werewolf?”
Morgan pauses. Then she laughs—and groans.
“No. No. I’m…I’m a witch, Gwenna. Okay?”
I blink.
“A witch?” I repeat. Stupidly.
“Yeah,” Morgan says, scooping her long waves of hair from under the jacket collar. “Magic. Spells. Blessings and hexes, potions and perfumes?—”
It’s all real. Magic. Miracles. The holy spirit. Whatever the fuck you want to call it.
That’s what Kai had said. The last night I was here.
But also…
The tea.
That scent in the director’s office.
All of Morgan’s weird little mystical trinkets and trappings.
It’s not just for aesthetics. For show.
It’s real.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” she goes on, stuffing a foot into a boot. “I really am. I know you’re already so mad at the four of them for not telling you things, and you should be, but?—”
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I’m not mad.”
Morgan pauses, one boot on, and looks at me. “Really?”
I pause, give myself a second to truly inventory my feelings.
I should be mad. I could be mad. No one would blame me for being pissed that my friend kept such a massive secret from me.
But…
But no. I’m not mad. Not at Morgan. This is different—what she did is different.
What they did was…
I can’t finish the thought.
This is different, is all.
“Yeah,” I say. “Really.”
Relief rushes over Morgan’s pretty features. “Thankgoddess,” she says. “Anyway, I’m sorry about this, but it’s a full moon, so I have to go…”
“…do witchy shit?” I finish for her. Morgan cackles.
“In so many words,” she says. “Technically, I have to charge up these bad boys.” She holds open her jacket like a shady back-alley dealer presenting his wares, revealing a host of tiny bottles filled with clear liquid. “It’s just water. For moon water. But I obviously can’t put it off any longer, so…”
