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“Cass?” Gypsy leaned over, and I caught another frown as she nibbled on her lower lip in worry when I didn’t answer. “You alright?”
I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. “I think I just need some fresh air.”
She nodded. “Why don’t you take a walk? I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes, but don’t go far on your own, okay?”
“I know, Gyps. Love ya, sweets.”
“You too, hot stuff.”
Falling leaves slowly drifted down from their perch in the air—a colorful combination of fiery red, warm amber, vivid yellow, and brown. Towering oaks surrounded the path as I walked, catching the few minutes of solitude I could snatch. There hadn’t been much time to process the events of the last few days, specifically my experiences of the previous forty-eight hours.
Last night proved Mystic Hallows was under a new and dangerous threat. Jadis was nothing more than a pawn, but her death left me feeling uneasy.
Leaves crunched under my boots as I wiggled my fingers, watching as the swirling leaves circled my body and followed my command to dance in the cool air. Late morning sunshine penetrated the dense forest but didn’t lend much warmth. I shivered as the temperature seemed to drop.
Crisp autumn air settled in the wind as I enjoyed the early morning quiet. No one followed when I left. Relieved to find a chance to gather my thoughts without Damian’s constant presence in my mind, I left eagerly.
The path I followed led straight ahead, one I often walked in the past. The familiar scent of fall engulfed my senses. Breathing deeply, I inhaled as my shoulders relaxed. Cinnamon. Cloves. Pumpkin. Sugary sweetness. All my favorites.
In the distance, a shadowy figure approached from the other end of the path. Must be Gypsy. She said she’d meet me during my walk.
The closer I got, the more I realized the figure wasn’t Gypsy. The shadow disappeared. A man hid within the folds of a dark, floor-length robe. The belt at his narrow waist fell almost to the ground. He lowered his head as I drew near, his palms pressed flat together in front of him as if he were praying. I thought it was odd but didn’t sense anything malevolent.
An altar appeared in front of him, blinking into existence as I nearly stumbled. He grasped a chicken roughly around the neck that squawked and wildly flapped its wings.
A sharp knife manifested in his hand as he sliced across the creature’s throat, the body twitching as blood gushed from the wound and dripped down the bright white feathers, staining them crimson. Blood sacrifice. Black magic. Voodoo?
This wasn’t a Salem witch.
On the back of the wind, I heard whispers, secret murmurings that echoed a vicious intent and wicked power. My head began to ache almost immediately as the man faded in and out, his body blurring before me.
His broad frame shimmered as if transparent—one half on each side of the veil.Impossible.No human could accomplish such a feat. No witch possessed such power.
As if to prove me wrong, he disappeared completely.
Only the blood lingered, purposely left behind.
Shit.
I opened my mouth to call out to my Cosan when suddenly all light extinguished. No sunlight. Nothing but darkness.
Worse, my body was stuck in place. I couldn’t move. My muscles didn’t obey the commands of my mind. Panic bloomed in my chest as I closed my eyes and called to the only person who may hear me. Desperate words filled my thoughts as I reached out.
‘Help me, Damian!’
Sinister laughter echoed in the inky blot that surrounded me.
Trapped, I realized my stupidity. Left vulnerable and entirely on my own, I practically invited attack. Shocking waves of pain pushed in and simultaneously attacked my shields from every angle. Falling to my knees, I cried out against the onslaught.
The presence was back. The same evil, heavy, and oppressive aura that had been in Mystic Hallows since the first day of Samhain. Jadis was only a puppet. The rogue witch couldn’t do this alone.
True evil entered through the tear in the veil.
And now it washere.
Legend says when two souls are meant to be together the devil will find ways to keep them apart, but . . . what if it isn’t only two souls . . . and is five instead?
