“I thought they didn’t let dads into camp?”
“They don’t,” she said. “It’s warded against any non-witches. He dropped me off at the gate last night.”
“Last night? Didn’t everyone arrive today.”
“They made an exception due to my father’s vampirism,” she replied with a shrug.
I could see it now. Faith’s canines were just a little too long and her skin a bit too pale, bordering on sickly. But aside from that, there was something deeply alluring about her. All the other girls were bright and sunny, while Faith reminded me of early evening stars and that moment when the sun dipped belowthe horizon to plunge the world into darkness. Her warm brown eyes shone against her dark brows and lashes, and her black hair was tied up into pigtails, which only furthered her resemblance to Alice fromTwilight.
“Vampirism,” I echoed. “Of course. I should’ve guessed.”
She tilted her head. “I’m guessing you’ve never met any monsters out in New York City?”
“I wouldn’t say that. The last history teacher I had was pretty ferocious.” That elicited a bell-like giggle from her. “But I’m guessing I wouldn’t have known, even if I had encountered anything truly supernatural. I don’t know what to look for.”
“By the end of summer, you will,” she replied. “If we don’t get murdered by Bitch Witch Barbie first.”
I snorted and leaned a shoulder into her. “I think you and I are going to be good friends, Faith.”
She beamed up at me.
The line kept moving, and a redheaded counselor called, “Next!”
Faith shot forward to give her name, and that was when a manicured hand landed on my shoulder. I peeked at the long stack of friendship bracelets that rose from the person’s wrist, all the way up to mid-forearm, confirming I already knew who it would be.
“Look what we have here.” Astrid scowled, her glossy lips curling into a sneer. “An outsider with no magic.”
“I have magic.” My cheeks heated. “I turned my ex-boyfriend into a toad.”
One of the girls behind Astrid lifted her eyebrows as if impressed, but Astrid just rolled her eyes. “And one accidental burst of magic means you’re worthy of our coven?” Her bright blue eyes scanned me from head to toe. “Why don’t you just run away like your mom did? It’s the only thing you Elmwoods are good at.”
“My surname is Morales,” I bit out.
“She took her father’s last name!” Astrid tittered, turning to her friends, who all joined in her fit of giggles. “Figures. My mother always said yours should have been a normie from the start.”
“Not that it’s any of your business,” I snapped. “But I didn’t even want to come here.”
Astrid quickly sobered, her mocking smile replaced with a vicious glare. She spread a thin arm toward the door. “Then go, outsider,” she said. “Because I promise if you stay, this is going to be the worst summer of your life. HarmonyMoralesand her kin are coven traitors, and we don’t take kindly to traitors.”
I put my beat-up duffel bag down to step into her space, looking down my nose to meet her eyes. I’d never once backed down from a fight and wasn’t going to start now, even if she might be able to turn me into a bat or something.
“Listen,Sabrina, I don’t need any of your small-town witchy superiority, okay?” I narrowed my gaze and flashed the cocky smile that three years of kickboxing classes had given me. “Why don’t you go play with your cauldrons and crystals or whatever the fuck it is you do in this backwoods hellhole and leave me the fuck alone.”
“Hellhole, hmm?” Astrid’s smile went feral, and she clicked her fingers. “Okay.”
Fire erupted all around me. My shirt burst into flames, the searing heat boiling my skin. I shrieked, patting out the singed spot as the smell of burned cotton and flesh filled my nostrils.
I blinked and looked back down, but the burn mark was gone, my skin untouched.
My mouth fell open as I gaped at Astrid. “What the fuck was that?”
“It’s mywitchy superiority, as you so eloquently put it,” she said with a sickeningly sweet smile. “Now, why don’t you leave or the next fire spell will be more than just a vision.”
The girls behind her grinned like guard dogs waiting for the command to attack.
Screw this place.
I grabbed my duffel bag and hoisted it back onto my shoulder, the rough fabric biting into my skin.
