Someone chuckled and hands helped him stand up. “Tried to step into the mirror a little too hard?” A warlock asked.
“I guess so.” Malcolm recognized the man who’d spoken as Curtis Batsford, Serafina’s husband. The man his father had wanted him to take remedial magic lessons from.
“The only safe way is to fall through. Place your hand on the mirror to let it guide you. Don’t step into it. Just let it pull you. Magic is about trust. Trusting yourself and trusting the magic. The traveling mirror operates under that very same principle.”
“Why don’t we use portals or totems?” he asked grumpily as he brushed off his jeans and fixed his flannel shirt. He saw the other council members were dressed more formally than he was. Great. No one told him it was a formal affair.
“I can answer that,” Lady Batsford came over, her long cloak trailing over the permanent spells carved on the floor of the Council chambers. Her black witch’s hat was perched fashionably on her head.
“Portals are too violent and unpredictable for our sacred space. Traveling totems have a way of ending up in places they shouldn’t. We can’t have the sanctity of our chambers open to anyone but us or those we invite by careful invitation. The traveling mirror can only be operated by you.”
She placed a cloak around his shoulders and stared into his eyes.
“Today we examine your skills more deeply. Remember, we all know you, each of us. We’ve kept a watchful eye on you as you grew up, and now it’s time we see how far you are ready to go in learning your craft. Being a part of this council is a bit like being part of a family.” She gestured toward the witches and warlocks in the room. “Whatever happens, we will support you, guide you, teach you. All we ask is that you trust us, and most importantly yourself.”
He nodded and then took his appointed place along the circle, standing shoulder to shoulder with the most powerful magical people in his world.
Today would answer the question of whether or not he truly belonged among them.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Calli stepped inside her home and closed the door, flipping the lock.
“Persephone?” she called out.
A muffled mew came from the kitchen.
“Sephie?” She followed the sounds, worried her kitten had gotten herself into trouble. Her relationship with Persephone had been so strained of late, that she barely saw the kitten. It kept running off into the woods most of the day.
She halted at the sight of a strange man in the kitchen. He wore a black leather coat and jeans, watching her with gleaming eyes. In one hand he held a burlap sack where the mewling sounds were coming from.
His other hand held a gun.
Calli’s heart battered against her ribs as she struggled to keep breathing. “Who—who are you?”
“I’m someone who is saving the world from freaks like you,” the man said coldly.
“Freaks like me?”
“Witches… vampires… demons… shifters. You’re all dangerous freaks who need to be put down.”
Now Calli recognized him. It was that glint of something… dangerous in his eyes that felt all too familiar.
“You’re the man from the bookstore…” Was this because she hadn’t agreed to meet him for a drink? No, it could only be one thing. “You’re a hunter.”
“Pretty and smart,” he sneered, the sound dark and menacing. Her stomach knotted.
Stay calm… you can use your magic, she reminded herself. Assuming it’ll cooperate…
She nodded at the burlap sack. “Please put her down. She’s just a kitten.”
“I think we both know she’s not just a kitten. First, you are going to do exactly as I say,” the man said. “We’re going to walk out to your car and take a little drive into the woods?—”
Calli knew enough about hunters to know where that would end up. She didn’t wait for him to finish and launched a spell at him. The man flew through the air, hitting the back wall and dropping the bag holding Persephone.
Calli rushed toward the kitten, but the hunter recovered quickly. He hadn’t lost his hold on his gun. He fired, a bullet ripping through her upper arm just as she grabbed the sack. She scrambled back out of the room, holding in the scream of pain that wanted to rush out.
The hunter clambered to his feet, shaking his head a little. Calli retreated, throwing spell after spell, knocking potted plants down, hurling any object she could at him. But her magic was falling apart, hitting a brick wall within her own mind.
