Oh.
They’re waiting for my reaction.
“Hello,” I finally greet.
She jumps off the porch, which is when I notice the raccoon at her feet.
“Oh, that’s Nimble,” she affectionately muses and leans down to pat his head. “He’s cleaner than your average raccoon, I promise.”
She says it so sheepishly, then protectively scoops him into her arms.
“We’re a coven that firmly believes familiars belong inside,” Clover offers.
“Oh good,” the woman says and lets out a dramatic breath. “You’d be surprised how mean some people can be to ‘unconventional’ familiars.”
“Is that why you’re here?” I ask. “The coven?”
She smiles widely. “Yes. I got your—”
“Call,” the five of us say at the same time.
With a glance at each of us, she nods. “Yeah.That. I heard it, but wasn’t really sure what it meant. Not until my abuela showed up the next day and practically forced me out of the house.”
“The beckoning went to your entire family?” I ask. There’s still a lot to figure out about that spell, but it reminds me of something Rowyn said that first morning too.
Turning toward her, I open my mouth to ask, but she cuts me off first. “What if this is what you were feeling all day? That weird anticipation of something could have been her waiting for us.”
“I don’t know,” I shake my head, then relent with a murmured, “Maybe.”
It’s possible I was looking around corners all day in anticipation of meeting our new guest. I’m not fully convinced.
The anticipation still lingers in my stomach, telling me thatsomethingis coming. When I look at the pretty witch in front of me, the protectiveness settles and my hackles lower. I trust that my magic called the right people to join the coven, but the warning still lingers in my gut like a hex that hasn’t fully worn off yet. She puts Nimble down and closes some of the distance. “I’m Esme Aguado.”
“Renata Blackthorn,” I tell her, gesturing to myself. Each of the women do the same quickintroduction.
“Welcome to the Dreaming Willow Inn,” Clementine announces with a sweep of her arm. “I hope you enjoy curses, ghosts, and an endless amount of cleaning.”
Esme’s eyes grow about three sizes, so does her smile.
“Never dealt with a ghost or a curse, but my dad’s side of the family are all Hearth Witches, so I know a thing or two about cleaning.”
Clover sweeps her arm through Esme’s, and Clementine follows them inside.
Stopping at the top of the stairs, Rowyn turns around and assesses me, wondering why I’m not going inside. Not wanting to worry her, I look over my shoulder one more time—finding nothing except a lone Poppy sitting on the iron gate—before reluctantly following behind them.
Chapter 15
Renata
It’s raining.
It never rains here.
Not once in the last eleven years of visiting my dream realm has it ever rained when I’m at our meadow.
That’s the first clue this isn’t real—or as real as a dream can be.
The familiar warmth has been drained out, replaced by a biting cold that seeps into the marrow of my bones. Rather than the glow of the blood moon that is always rising in the sky, it’s a dark moon, making it nearly impossible to see anything.
