Nora's POV
"Here's something interesting," I mutter, spinning my silver blade between my fingers while staring into the shadowy forest ahead. "This is beginning to feel like a personal vendetta." I pause, shutting my eyes to better sense the dark energy swirling around me. Something wicked and otherworldly is prowling nearby, but it hasn't revealed itself yet.
"It's not as if I reek of anything offensive." I lift a strand of my chocolate brown waves to my nose. "I bathed thoroughly and everything. Even wore matching socks today." The thick clouds drift away from the moon's face, flooding the landscape with ghostly silver radiance. I tilt my head skyward, drawing strength from the full moon's energy. "Come now, let's have a civilized conversation." I rise from my spot, needing to work the stiffness from my legs. I've been perched on these frigid stone steps of this centuries-old farmhouse for over an hour, waiting to make my kill. Dark shapes dance across the porch and my pulse quickens. Multiple demons are lurking out here and I'm completely alone.
Perfect.
A wicked grin tugs at my mouth. Eyes closed, I breathe deeply and absorb power from every direction.
I've been hunting this particular demon for weeks, following a string of disappearances involving hikers in this national park. Without any evidence of violence, law enforcement concluded that the missing hikers simply wandered deeper into the park toward the lake, where they presumably drowned and were carried away by dangerous currents. The lake has been thoroughly searched, naturally, but dragging all of Lake Michigan for remains is impossible.
But I understand the truth. No evidence of violence exists because every fragment of those bodies was devoured completely. More innocent hikers will vanish unless I eliminate these demons. They reach maximum strength beneath the full moon's glow, transforming from incorporeal spirits into beings with solid forms. This might spell trouble for me, except tonight is also the only time they can be permanently destroyed.
Forever.
Assuming I can reach the incantation I've scribbled on paper and tucked in my pocket in time, because precise words must be spoken to banish these creatures into the earth for their final rest. I raise the dagger in one hand while fumbling for the spell with the other.
The temperature around me drops, and I sense at least one approaching. Damn. So much for retrieving the spell. Yes, I realize I should have committed it to memory, but Latin has always challenged me, and I was counting on being able to consult the paper rather than rely on recall. I can almost picture Charlette's disapproving glare as she crosses her arms in that familiar I-warned-you expression.
I hurry down the remaining stone steps and circle to the house's side, keeping my gaze fixed on the darkest section of woods near me. One demon charges forward with a thunderous roar, fangs exposed and clawed hands reaching. The other remains concealed, and without sensing the darkness enveloping it, I wouldn't detect its presence.
"Foolish demon. You should realize better than to trust a witch when she claims she only wants conversation."
It springs toward me and I dodge sideways, knowing I cannot stop to access the spell now. I cannot destroy it yet. I lift the dagger, its blade catching moonlight.
"Strike him swift and strike him true. Pierce the heart and make him rue," I whisper, feeling magic surge through my palm into the weapon. Without hesitation, I leap up and pivot, hurling the dagger into the darkness. It strikes one demon, burying deep in its chest while crackling with crimson magic.
The second demon, humanoid in shape but covered in rough gray hide, hisses and springs away, whirling toward me with talons spread in my direction. I extract the spell from my pocket and unfold the paper. Just as I glance down at my messy handwriting sprawled across the page, something seizes my hair and jerks me backward.
The paper slips from my grasp, floating to the ground. I snap my head back, skull connecting with whoever lurks behind me. A demon snarls and lashes out from the impact, shifting its grip from my hair to my waist.
It drags me closer and something warm and slick drips down my neck.
"Revolting," I say, driving my elbow back sharply. I strike it hard in the ribs, twisting and breaking free from its grasp. No time to cringe at the demon blood trickling down my skin. The demon without a blade in its chest charges forward. I leap aside, diving to the ground and rolling back onto my feet in a practiced maneuver. Wind gusts up, carrying the spell-inscribed paper away from the house into the woods.
"Damn it all," I curse and thrust out my hand, launching a sphere of magical energy at the demon. It stumbles backward, knocked flat by my power's force. I use this brief distraction to my advantage and turn toward the paper. The other demon yanks the dagger from its chest and flings it at me.
I dive forward, barely avoiding a blade to the chest. It grazes my shoulder instead, slicing through flesh. I crash to the ground, groaning in pain. Muddy grass squelches beneath me, staining my already-destroyed shirt. I push off the earth, snatching the paper and springing upright.
"Mater et luna voco," I begin reading, and the demons shriek. They know what's coming and I relish this moment every single time. "Redde unde exierunt," I continue, voice rising. "Cinis cinerem. Pulvis sunt pariter!"
I rip a crystal from my neck and hurl it at the demons' feet as I finish the incantation. It ignites, sending magical waves through the air and reducing the demons to nothing but ash piles.
"Good morning," Ophelia calls cheerfully, entering the bookstore with two coffee cups. It's our unspoken agreement that whoever doesn't open our shared store stops by Linus Café for morning coffee. She places my black coffee on the counter and waves at the blinds, making them rise magically.
"What happened to your shoulder?" She rounds the counter and stores her purse in the cabinet beneath the register.
I'm wearing a black off-shoulder sweater and leggings, and hadn't realized the cut was visible.
"Stubborn warbler demon hurled my own dagger back at me. After I'd impaled him with it."
"Disgusting." Ophelia wrinkles her nose. "I hope you cleaned it properly."
"I did, and used the last of my healing balm this morning."
"I'll prepare more for you." She walks across the store, trailing her fingers over book spines and activates the open sign.
"Thanks."
"How did the hunt go? Did you eliminate them?"
"Don't I always?" I grab my coffee and remove the lid, letting it cool.
"Don't get overconfident now," Ophelia teases, though it's amusing because I'm not. I've spent years training, and most importantly, I understand my limitations.
"I'll do my best not to," I respond. "Really, these lower-tier demons don't offer much resistance. I didn't even need to call my familiars for assistance."
"That's fortunate." Ophelia shudders and unlocks the door, opening the store to customers. Two people enter before she returns to the counter. Ophelia and I met years ago, and while we both possess magical abilities, we're quite different.
Which makes us excellent friends.
Ophelia is a peacekeeper. She enjoys creating love potions, healing balms, and fortune charms. She spends free time gardening and watches only HGTV. But cross her or hurt someone she cares about, and the lapdog becomes a hellhound.
"I'm going shopping later today," she says, returning behind the counter and retrieving a notebook from the register drawer to begin a list. "Shopping" means she's traveling to another coven for magical supplies. "Do you need anything?"
"Black salt and mandrake root," I tell her quietly, watching the couple who went straight to romance novels. We're the only independent bookstore locally, and after the last big chain closed, business really improved.
"What about vervain and garlic?"
"Yes. Better prepared than sorry, right?"
"Exactly my thinking. Though the local vampires have been fairly courteous so far."
"It's always the quiet ones who become ruthless killers."
"Rather like you," she teases, though it's accurate. Killing demons is more unpaid public service than murder, but it's still killing.
Generally, vampires have integrated into society better than anyone anticipated once they revealed themselves to the world several years ago. But witches aren't ordinary citizens.
We have a complicated history and exposing vampires puts all magical folk at risk of discovery. Which we absolutely don't want. Witches faced persecution once, and we refuse to be in the spotlight again.
With bottled animal blood available, vampires claim no need to feed on humans anymore. And if they crave fresh living blood, they can pay premium prices for "privately and ethically sourced" human blood. The whole situation remains hotly debated, with some arguing it should be illegal to sell human blood when the Red Cross faces constant shortages. Others believe we should control our own blood, and if selling it to be filtered into fancy black bottles is someone's choice, we should allow it.
"That's everything you need?" she asks, adding more items to her list.
"Yes, I inventoried everything a few days ago and I'm stocked. Though if you can visit Collins Mortuary, I could use more Dead Man's Blood. Preferably something fresh and not from anyone with heart disease."
"I can stop by and check their selection. Want me to deliver everything tonight?"
"No, bring it next time you see me."
Ophelia lives downtown, walking distance from the store, while I live on Vivian Hill's outskirts in an old house I renovated myself.
The morning continues normally. I recommend my favorite indie author to college girls, connect an older couple with a romance series to rekindle their love life, and find the perfect self-help book for a shy teenager who's probably skipping school right now, but who am I to judge?
Ophelia leaves during the lunch lull, and I slip into the back room quickly to use the restroom and grab my meal. I turn on music, dancing in place as I open a container of last night's leftovers. I hold my hand over the spaghetti, using magic to heat it. I sit behind the register, thinking I'll get a moment's peace before another customer arrives. But then the bell chimes as the door opens.
I blink several times and look up, focusing on the dark-haired woman who just entered my store.
She glances around nervously, wringing her hands, uncertain. It's her first visit because, trust me, I'd remember if this woman had ever stepped foot here before.
Because she's my sister.
"Lena?" Her name escapes my lips and I feel as surprised as she appears. It's been over a year since we've seen each other, and when she turns to meet my eyes directly, something tugs at my heart.
I miss her.
"Hello, Eleonora," she breathes, eyes wide.
"Nora," I correct, then feel guilty. Maybe she forgot I don't use my full name anymore. "What brings you here? I mean, it's wonderful to see you. Wait, is everything alright?" I spring from the chair behind the counter and smooth my hair back again. I slept on it damp and it dried completely wavy. Trying to tame it is pointless.
"I wanted to see you." She moves into the store enough to clear the entrance but doesn't venture further. Gripping her Gucci purse strap, she surveys the space before returning her attention to me. "Elodie turns one soon. We're throwing a party."
"One year already," I repeat, feeling my heart clench. "That passed quickly."
"Tell me about it," my sister says, still not advancing into the store. She steals another glance around, unsure if the books will remain stationary.
"It's an ordinary bookstore," I assure her. "You're perfectly safe."
"I know, I'm not afraid, it's just..." She shakes her head, stumbling over words. Clearing her throat, she reaches into her purse and produces a cream envelope. "I'd love to have you at Elodie's party."
I circle from behind the counter and accept the invitation from her. I swallow hard, refusing to let emotion overwhelm me.
"It's at our house," she continues. "We're renovating our kitchen, so all food is being catered from Luciano's. You still enjoy that place, right?"
"Yes," I say, though I haven't visited in years.
"Perfect, because there'll be tons of food. And their famous red wine." She meets my gaze with a small smile.
"I do enjoy wine," I say, neither agreeing nor declining to attend my only niece's birthday celebration. "I thought your house was new. You're renovating already?"
"Oh, right. You wouldn't know. We bought a place in Mark Park."
"Really?" I say, unable to hide my surprise. "I thought that penthouse was your dream home and so convenient to your hospital."
Lena looks down and her cheeks flush red.
"We just thought a change would be good. For Elodie. The new place is near the lake and a park."
She's withholding something, but I won't press. As long as she has shelter and safety, I don't care where she lives.
I look down at the invitation, uncertain what to say. She's my older sister. I've known her my entire life. But this feels awkward and suddenly I forget how normal people behave. I look back up, finding her examining the store.
The bell chimes behind her and she steps forward, ensuring she's not blocking anyone.
"This place is lovely," she says with a smile. "You always were an avid reader."
"Yes. Books were my sanctuary."
"I'd really appreciate it if you came to the party." Her gaze finds the cut on my shoulder. She inhales as she studies me. "You look wonderful, Nora."
I wave dismissively. "You don't need to lie, Lena. I had a late, difficult night."
"With a man?" She offers a tentative smile.
"A few men, actually." I raise my eyebrows playfully.
"Sounds entertaining."
Is that a genuine smile I see on my sister's face?
"It's not what you're thinking. I'm just ridding the world of evil."
"Nora, I'm sorry for everything that happened before," Lena begins and reaches for my hand. Her fingers brush over my skin and my heart expands in my chest. I close my eyes and push all feelings aside.
"I know you are, and I don't hold it against you." I squeeze her hand. "It's good to see you again."
"You too. Maybe we can make this a somewhat regular occurrence."
"Maybe," I say with a smile, but I'm completely lying. There's a reason I left home and never returned.