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My gaze drags down his body, then back up. Against my will. He’s not even naked, for fuck’s sake. The first thing on my list is to stop thinking about his abs.

“How do you plan to use me?” I inch closer. “My mother is the Seer, Kian, not me. I don’t know how to find a blood witch.”

He smiles. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

I swallow.

He’s right anyway. I do know how to find a blood witch.

But it’ll cost both of us to do it.

Chapter 11

Astra

“Wake, Astra.” My mother’s lips touch my forehead. “We have a visitor.”

I yawn and force my eyes to open. Pale-blue light streams in through the windows, signaling the return of the sun. Dawn has arrived. And with it, a new witch.

We only get visitors when someone knows where to find us, and my mother ensured that’s a rare thing.

But visitors also bring news of the witches from the outside world. That’s how I refer to them, anyway. There’s our inside world of my mother and me. Everyone else is beyond. And if they deign to stay a few nights, I can almost always talk them into teaching me something.

I dress quickly and follow my mother outside. We hike through the early morning mist in silence, until we reach the road. Then we wait.

And wait.

“How do you know it’s today?” I eventually ask.

My stomach cramps with hunger. I should’ve grabbed an apple on the way out the door. The sun is high enough to glimmer through the trees, burning away the mist and dew. It’ll be noon before we get back home. Perhaps later.

“I just know,” she replies.

Eventually, a woman comes around the corner, walking down the middle of the worn dirt road. She has a canvas sack slung over her shoulder and a wide-brimmed straw hat perched on her head. It doesn’t do much to hide her cherry-red hair or her unusual style of dress: tweed skirt and vest, a light-purple button-down shirt underneath it. The sleeves are rolled up, revealing the Mark on her inner arm. It’s in the shape of a starburst.

“Good morning,” my mother calls.

The witch smiles widely. “Lenora!”

“Cecelia,” Mother replies.

“How the hell did you find this place?” Cecelia stops in front of us and drops her sack to the grass. “I’ve been hiking for ages.”

“It’s only a mile outside of town.” I press my lips together and glance at my mother. I sometimes speak without thinking. We’ve been working on it.

Cecelia’s amber eyes travel over me. “Your girl, Len?”

My mother doesn’t respond. It’s clear enough that I’m hers. We look alike. And even though I’m barely thirteen, I’m almost as tall as her. My birthday was last week. We celebrated with ham and cheese sandwiches toasted on the stove, and a chocolate and raspberry cake with a candle stuck in it. It was great.

“Has she awakened?”

“Last year,” I answer before my mother can.

My Mark is concealed—my mother prefers it that way when she introduces me to new witches.

“Feisty thing, aren’t you? Would you carry my bag for me? My back aches from traveling from farther than your little town.”

I bite the inside of my cheek and lift her sack. It weighs a ton, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve been hauling logs since we moved here. Hefting an ax to split the wood, learning how to store it so it doesn’t rot.