I push the iron gate open, and it groans on its hinges, the sound echoing through the night. The trees, much taller and thicker after a century of growth, cast twisted shadows across the grass.
I step through the gate and walk on, following the faint brush of magic against my skin.
My boots crunch on rock that wasn’t here before. The paths were mud and grass when I knew this place, but now, everything is too orderly. The wild tangle of blackberry bushes where Celeste and I picked berries during funerals is gone, replaced by trees that are unnaturally even. I can still taste those berries. Still hear Celeste’s laugh.
But if she is dead—if they arealldead—am I the only one who remembers the sound of her laugh, and that she always found the best berry bushesand made the best jams? Am I the only person who knows she existed as anything more than a name on a stone?
“Ducite me ad eas,” I murmur, urging the tracking spell to stay alive. It keeps caressing me like a gentle touch, taking me further into the graveyard.
My heart beats faster, and I lead us onward, deeper into the fog that drifts between the graves like the ghosts of everyone I once knew.
8
Hannah
WhenIagreedtotrack down Julia’s coven, I didnotthink it would involve stomping through a graveyard at night. But it’s not like I signed up for any of this in the first place, so all I can do is stay close and hope that whatever we’re here for is over quickly.
The fog wraps around me like cold fingers, creeping into my bones as we swish through the damp grass. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, like it’s warning me that something is hiding in the dark pools beneath the trees.
Every survival instinct is telling me to wait until morning and do this when it’s light out, but there’s no time for that. The full moon taunts us as it climbs higher, and I refuse to let the binding spell become permanent and be stuck as Julia’s shadow forever—no matter how much my traitorous body seems to like being near her.
Infuriatingly, I’m way more comfortable the closer I am to her because of the blasted binding spell. And considering we’re in a literal graveyard on a chilly October night, her presence is the only thing keeping me from straight-up panicking right now. I’m walking so shamelessly close that her cloak brushes my legs. It almost feels like a touch, and a weird urge to holdher hand for reassurance overcomes me. Which is absurd because a whole other part of my brain is screaming at me to keep my distance.
“What are we looking for?” I ask, my voice carrying in the eerie silence.
Julia slinks gracefully between the headstones, following whatever invisible trail her magic is showing her. “Gravestones from the late 1800s, if my hunch is correct.”
I take out my phone and turn on the flashlight. Particles swirl in the beam, which hits a wall of fog a few paces ahead.
Julia does a double-take at the light.
“I have magic too,” I say, wiggling my fingers at the phone.
She sighs and keeps walking.
For someone who woke up a hundred years in the future, she’s not freaking out as badly as I would be. But considering she’s a witch who seems to kill people without a second thought, there’s probably not a lot that rattles her.
Some passing graves look clean and new, with adornments like flowers and belongings sitting in front of them, while others are crumbling and grimy. I shine my light on the old ones, staying as close to Julia as I can.
I try to ignore the way my heart flutters every time her cloak touches me. Binding spell aside, it’s impossible not to notice that she’s attractive, and it was impossible not to react when she pushed me up against that wall. And yeah, her age gives her an easy confidence and comfort in her own body that I’ve never encountered in women my age… But thatstilldoesn’t mean I like her.
“Are you certain you can endure another feeding ritual?” Julia asks. She pauses at a headstone, bending to brush her fingers over the worn inscription.
My face heats up. “Yes.”
“If you insist. Just remember this was not my idea.” She continues walking, her cloak billowing behind her.
A train rumbles in the distance, unseen beyond the veil of fog and darkness. Its whistle splits the air, and I flinch, stepping closer to Julia again.
Does she see through my confident answer to the turmoil inside me? Does she know that the way she touches me leaves me confused and burning with guilt? That these feelings caused by the binding spell or the feeding or…whatever is going on…are battling for the same space as my feelings for Riley?
I push down those thoughts.
“I wish I left you in that book,” I grumble.
“And deprive yourself of all this charm?” Julia says lightly.
I shoot her a glare she doesn’t see.
