Justine grips my hands so firmly that I can’t easily pull them away. With her eyes closed, she lets out a long sigh. Her face twitches, as if she’s processing information. Her expressions aren’t dissimilar from my sister’s when she sleeps. I don’t want to think of Kara now. Is she home now? In her bed? At the bookstore? The witch’s lips part, and she takes a quick breath. Her eyes flash open.

“You’re blocked,” she says simply.

Blocked? “What does that mean?”

Sebastian moves from behind me to stand at my side. He grips a chair and pulls it back to give him enough space to drop onto it. As his gaze moves back and forth between Justine and me, I wonder what’s he’s thinking.

“It means someone bound your magic. And…” She shakes her head slowly, “It’s old and powerful. I can’t feel your magic, only the magic of another witch around you. It’s almost smothering your own, hiding it from the world, including me.”

“How can you tell the difference between her magic and this other witch’s?” Sebastian asks.

She holds my hands tighter. “It feels foreign, almost unnatural. I’m not sure how else to describe it. At first glance, I assumed she was human, but now that I look closer, I see the faintest hint of her aura—a few shades of gold along her skin and then a deep shade of burgundy on top.”

“An aura? I have an aura?”

She smiles softly. “Yes. All witches have them—supernaturals, too—though only a few can see it. Only seers like me. I can tell a lot about a person from their aura. For instance, the brightness indicates how strong a witch is, but your burgundy border is solid and complete, and it constrains you. The dark border indicates the witch who bound you tended to use dark magic. It sours their light.”

“Dark witches must hate you.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Because you can see them for who they are.”

“Yes. That is why I don’t broadcast my gifts. Sebastian only knows because I trust him.” She sighs. “Or used to trust him.”

“How many times can a guy apologize? Honestly, I did you a favor.”

Her gaze drifts to his face. She clears her throat and glances back at me. “A dark witch did this to you.”

“Can we break it?” Sebastian asks.

“I can try. But are you sure you want that? You have no idea why it was done. It’s a can of worms you might not want to open.”

“Do it,” Sebastian demands.

Justine grimaces at him. “I was talking to her.”

“Then she also says yes.”

I glare at him. Yes, I want it, but I don’t like him speaking for me as if I don’t get a vote.

Justine sighs and pushes off the table to stand. She walks to the front door, and I assume she’s going to walk through it after she opens it wide. But she stands to the left of it and sighs instead. With a pained expression, she quickly says, “Sorry about this, Sebastian.” She folds her hands over her chest. “Exitus.”

Sebastian’s eyes go wide as his body jerks. His fingernails grow into claws with a quick click, and he digs them into the table as the lower half of his body moves out from under him to the direction of the door like he’s caught in a wind tunnel. His skin stretches taut over the bones of his body. I shove back in my seat, stumble, and cling to the bookcase nearby to steady myself. “What’s happening?”

“A spell banishing him from my home.”

“Fuck!” he says with a groan as his fingernails lose their grip, and he blows out of the room. “Justine!”

I never even feel the breeze.

She slams the door and peeks through the window.

Outside, Sebastian shouts profanities at her, but he doesn’t try to break the door down. I move to the window above the kitchen sink and peer through it to watch him watch the front door. He looks like he’s ready to eat someone. He might have cared for Justine once upon a time, but I’m not sure his past feelings will be strong enough for him to resist ripping her head off when she leaves this place. Hell, he might rip mine off too for staying inside, which I fully intend to do, even though I don’t trust her any more than I trust him. Not yet. I mean, she just betrayed a man I’m pretty sure she loved. You don’t hold that much of a grudge against a guy unless he cuts you pretty deep.

Justine walks around the edges of the room, waving her hands and chanting words I don’t understand. When she finishes, she approaches me and places a hand on my shoulder. I eye her warily, my hands slowly curling into fists. She might be magical, but she’s human, and hitting her wouldn’t be like hitting a vampire. She’d feel it, and she might actually go down.

“Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”

“I’ve heard that a lot the last few days. How do I know I can trust you?”

“For the same reason you wonder if you can’t—because I kicked him out. I’ve cloaked the room. He can’t hear us in here. We can have a very candid conversation that he never needs to know about. The decision to unveil your magic is up to you, not him. I won’t have him making the decision for you. Kicking him out was for you, not for me.”

What she says makes sense, so I’m inclined to let my guard down—if only a little—and take this meeting as it comes. “When you were doing…your…um, thing, was there something you saw you didn’t want to tell him?”

“Come. Sit with me.” She guides me back to the table. We sit in the same chairs, and once again, she takes my hands. Outside, Sebastian yells, “All is forgiven if you invite me back in.” Quiet. “I’m not fucking around, Justine!”

She rolls her eyes.

“Aren’t you afraid of him?”

She laughs. “I’ve seen him madder. He’ll get over it.”

“Or he’ll kill you.”

She tips her head to the side and gives me a sympathetic smile. “You can’t know him very well.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“If you knew him—really knew him—you wouldn’t say that. He’s not a bad man. He’s flawed, sure. And he makes bad choices—often. But he’s not the worst person to align yourself with. If he makes you a promise, I’m confident he’ll keep it. He’s very loyal to those he trusts. It’s unfortunate there are so few of us.”

“But he didn’t keep a promise to you. He wouldn’t turn you.”

“Because he’s an ass and he thinks he knows better. I might be pissed he didn’t keep his word, but I also know that he only refused because he cared.”

The tender tone of her voice and the hint of sadness that surrounds it give her away. If I had doubts before, I don’t now. They were lovers. “Do you still love him?”

She smooths back her salt-and-pepper hair and forces a smile. “It was a very long time ago.”

All I hear is a very firm yes, and I feel sad for her. Whatever happened between them is their business, but I can’t help being curious about it. Unfortunately, now is not the time to hear her story or Sebastian’s. Who knows how long I have before Sebastian forces us out? One lit match and we’d have no choice but to leave the safety of these walls—if he’s cold enough to do that to a woman he once cared for.

But I do have one question—one I know I could never expect Sebastian to answer completely. “What about his brother?”

She purses her lips and inhales deeply, letting it out in an exaggerated sigh. I feel the same. “I think you already know that man is not to be trusted.”

I nod in agreement.

“But you didn’t come here to talk about him.”

“Of course not.”

“Whoever did this to you had their reasons. I wouldn’t recommend undoing it until you know why. Your tellurium is really high, but Sebastian couldn’t have known what you are, not with your magic bound. Tell me, what am I missing?”

I hitch a shoulder. How much should I tell her? How much should I trust her? My gut tells me to keep much of it to myself, but then, I trust her more than Sebastian right now, and she’s able to give me answers he can’t. But I keep thinking back to what he said to me outside, that the witches here wouldn’t protect me because it would be too great a risk for them.

I decide it doesn’t matter if that’s true. I’ll take my chances if I can get back a piece of my identity that was taken from me without my permission.

“When a vampire tried to bite me, she got sick. Quickly. And then she died. Sebastian said they suspected I’m a blood hunter, but he said they believed we were all extinct. He also said he had a lock of hair from one, a woman called Penelope. He tested my blood against hers, and apparently we’re a one hundred percent match. I don’t know if I believe that because that would mean I’m her identical twin or a clone, which is impossible. I’m human, and I was born twenty-two years ago. The test had to be wrong.”

She opens her mouth but snaps it shut. With her bottom lip between her teeth, she regards me differently. Her expression is wary as she leans away. “It is impossible.”

“I know.”

“What exactly happened to the vampire when she bit you?”

I recall the night perfectly so it’s not hard to repeat. “She bit me, and then after feeding some, she withdrew her fangs and flew back against a brick wall. She made choking noises and starting projectile vomiting. Then she stumbled and fell, and the other vampire snatched her, and they were gone. It all happened so quickly I almost thought it was a dream, but there was dried blood all over my neck, though the marks healed quickly.”

She gets up and pulls down a book from a bookshelf in the living room. I lean back in my seat to watch her from around the partition wall. She brings it back and slowly flips through the pages. The book is old with pages so yellow they’re almost brown. The ink is black as coal. She stops on a page and slides the book around before pushing it in my direction. An image of a woman sits on the page, hand drawn with black ink. I gasp as I take in her likeness. We’re similar but not identical. And the difference isn’t her beautiful long hair that falls to her knees in intricate braids. Maybe it’s the hardened eyes of someone who’s seen too much or the strong lines of muscles in her neck and jaw that speak to her training and battles. Where I’m delicate, she’s firm.

“I don’t understand.” I flip the page and start to read about this woman, but Justine breaks my concentration.

“That’s Penelope Scott.” She points to the young woman. “This book describes all well-known witches since the fifteen hundreds. Penelope was known for stopping the hanging of more than a dozen accused witches in Salem in the late sixteen hundreds. Then the crowd turned on her and accused her of the same, and when they tossed rocks at her, they bounced off. The crowd was so afraid they ran away. She struck down the guards that tried to kill her as she cut down all of the women from their nooses. She was one of the most feared and wanted women in the colony for nearly fifty years. She is the stuff of legends, although witches will tell you a more detailed story. To us, she was known as a vampire hunter and a protector of good witches. In her lifetime, she was like the supernatural police.”

“She sounds...magnificent,” I say softly. An impossible act to follow. If I didn’t feel inadequate before, I sure do now.

“Sebastian said she’s reborn when she dies.”

“So the stories go. There were twelve elder vampires before Penelope was born the first time—that we know of. Some say she had lived many lives before. But when she died in the seventeen hundreds, there were only six. She’d single-handedly killed half of them. After the sixth, they got nervous, joined forces, and made an army that descended on her until she drew her last breath.”

Wow. Half? I blow air through pursed lips and lean back in my chair. This woman had to be strong and formidable for vampires to band together against her. And it took an army to defeat her? I can’t even imagine. It also makes me worry what will happen to me if other vampires think I’m the same woman because, clearly, I’m not. They could strike me dead with a single blow. “Sebastian says he knows of no other rebirths. Someone would have noticed…surely?”

She merely shrugs.

“Hundreds of years later, I’m the only one? It makes the legend a little less believable.”

“Some say she’s stayed in the shadows, killing vampires who kill when they feed. They say she stays away from elders for fear of them killing her for good the next time. This way, at least, she can police the children.”

I chew my lip at that because here I sit, aiming to kill an elder.

“Many vampires have died over the years. Who killed them? There are few choices. A human?” She shakes her head. “They aren’t strong or fast enough. Another vampire? Possibly, although they don’t tend to turn on their own kind. A witch? No, witches mind their business because no one has ever cast a successful rebirth spell except for Penelope, and they don’t have death wishes.”

I’m still not sure how much of this I believe. I want to, but it seems so farfetched. “Do you really think I could be her?”

“Anything is possible. With a score like yours… No other witch has come close, not even me. I’m only a seventeen. Your average witch rates somewhere between four and eight.”

Four and eight? Justine just threw a vampire out the door with a single word like he was caught in a wind tunnel, and she’s only a seventeen? I’m almost scared to find out what I can do. But I’m also incredibly curious. An average girl from an orphanage, I’ve always wanted to be special.

“You’re hidden right now. You’re safe. Once you do this, it can’t be undone, especially with someone like you. There aren’t any witches strong enough to do it.”

“Who did it in the first place?”

She leans back in her chair and frowns. “If it was done when you were a child, your magic would have been developing, and you would have been weaker. Your magic grows as you do. A strong witch could have done that, but the question is who? That person obviously wanted to protect you, or they simply would have killed you when you were at your weakest.”

“Is there any way to find out who?”

She shakes her head. “No, but I suspect when we drop the cloak, that person will come to you.”

I file that thought away for later but hope to God it’s true. I want answers. All of them. “Will you do it?”

She considers this. “It’s your choice. I will always help a good witch in need. Always.”

“Thank you.”

She pats my hands lightly before rising and going into her kitchen. She turns on her stove and snatches a cast-iron pot from below the counter. I approach her and watch with rapt attention as she tosses herbs and powders into the pot.

“A de-cloaking potion will do it. The magic is strong, but…” She grins. “It’s not strong enough to withstand this spell.”

“But you said a really strong witch cast it?”

“Yes. To hide you. But that’s it. Once you were discovered, any witch skilled in potions could remove it. They weren’t counting on anyone seeing through it.”

She stirs the contents of the pot, then leaves the ladle on the stovetop while she drags a knife out of the wooden block by the sink. “I will need a few drops of your blood.”

Sebastian didn’t want her to have my blood, and he seemed very decided about it. I have no idea why, and though I consider this for a brief moment when she asks for it, it doesn’t stop me from giving it to her. This isn’t his choice, and if it’s the only way to unblock me, I’m in. Wholeheartedly. Bleed me away, Justine. She holds out her hand, and I give her mine. With the pointed edge of the knife, she pricks my finger, and I flinch.

With my hand in hers, she holds mine over the pot and lets one, two, three drops drip into the liquid. After handing me a towel to hold to my finger, she slowly stirs the pot. I watch, mesmerized, as waves of color swim through the liquid, and translucent bubbles pop up around the surface.

In a low voice, she chants foreign words, and there is a puff of golden smoke.

“I’m going to fucking kill you, Justine!” Sebastian screams from outside.

“I’m going to need my magic if I want to survive leaving this house,” I say quietly.

Frowning, she lays a hand on my shoulder. “Can I give you a piece of advice regarding Sebastian?”

I shrug and nod.

“With your magic back, you’ll be his natural enemy. The good inside of him will only go so far if he’s pushed against a wall.”

“I have no illusions about him. If you remember, he kidnapped me.”

“But you came here with him of your own free will.”

I chuckle at that. “If by free will, you mean he and his brother held my sister and me hostage, and they threatened her life unless I helped them, then yeah, I totally came here of my own free will.”

She takes a dropper and squeezes it in the liquid. When it travels up the clear plastic end, it’s the color of lilacs. “Two drops,” she says. “That’s all it takes.”

She lifts the dropper up to my mouth, and I open wide and stick out my tongue. One drop. A tingling sensation travels through my body like an electric current. My fingers and toes zing with energy that makes them vibrate. Two drops. My eyes grow heavy, and the world goes dark. “Justine! Justine, I can’t see anything!” For a moment, I think I’ve been tricked and she’s trying to hurt me. If only I could have seen her true colors the way she sees mine!

“Just relax. It’ll take a few moments. Your body is adjusting to twenty-two years’ worth of repressed magic.”

The world tips on end. I stumble, and two hands on my arms steady me. Fireworks spark in my head, and a deafening noise makes me cover my ears as I whimper in pain. “Something’s not right! This feels wrong.”

“I never said it would be easy.” Her voice is like a whisper in an arena. Voices, the sound of a clock ticking, a dog barking nearby, children outside screaming as they play tag, their footsteps beating on the grass as they run…

“It’s too much.” A little warning would have been nice. Blurry shapes and colors materialize, and I squint to make out objects, but it hurts to open my eyes. I blink over and over, trying to rid them of this burning sting. I stumble again, and she helps me to the floor. The noises fade, and my hearing returns to normal as the floorboards creak as she kneels beside me. I grip the leg of the chair nearby to stop the world from spinning.

I can’t breathe. I heave and gasp, but there isn’t enough air. My skin is on fire, my bones broken into jagged pieces. I cry out in pain. “Please. It hurts.” She wraps her arm around my neck and soothes me with hushed words and a caressing hand on my shoulder.

“Not much longer,” she whispers.

I crumble to the ground as I lose control of my muscles. I lie on the cold linoleum floor, my face to the side. I can’t move, can’t speak. The pain is gone, but the only movement I can manage is blinking my eyes, and thankfully, breathing, which I have to focus on or my lungs stop working all together. Justine leans down beside me, her face a few feet from mine. Her mouth moves, but I hear nothing, just a low ringing noise. I retch. Bile climbs my throat, and I’m afraid I’ll choke on it. It slides back down. I can move my finger. I wiggle it, but it tires me, and my eyes grow heavy. Now I move my fingers, clawing at the floor to get a grip on the tipping world that sways more than a boat on the ocean.

“Breathe,” she says quietly.

I heave in and out. I find the strength to wiggle my toes and my feet. I gasp as I get a full breath of air and jump to a sitting position when I regain control of my entire body. The ache in my bones and muscles retreats, and the world stops moving as I blink rapidly. I’m normal again…but not. I hold up my hands and see the golden light around my periphery. It’s so bright it’s blinding.

“You’ll get used to it,” Justine says, as if guessing what I’m seeing.

I snap my head in her direction to regard her like it’s the first time. Her light is like mine, as golden as a ray of sunlight breaking through clouds. Only there are specks of lavender floating in her light, like tiny dust motes.

My body vibrates like a good shiver in every muscle, over and over again. “My body is trembling.” My teeth chatter, and my words are garbled.

“It’s the magic,” she says softly. “It’ll dull over time. Or maybe you become desensitized to it. I promise you, other people won’t notice. Only you.”

“I feel…tired?”

“Again, you’re getting a whole lot of magic in a short period of time. You’ll sleep like a log tonight.”

“So how do I use it? Follow recipes and make potions? L-Learn to chant?”

She laughs out loud and falls from her crouching position onto her behind. She sits beside me with her hand on my knee. Her face looks ten years younger when she laughs and lets her guard down. And her aura changes, too, deepening to a honey brown. It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful. I see why Sebastian was with her now. I feel her energy: tender, loving, protective, loyal. If I didn’t trust her fully before, I would trust her with my life now. I wonder if what Sebastian said about the witches was true at all, or if he just didn’t want me getting too close to them. I have no doubt this woman would help me if I needed her. And she’s proven that by pissing off the vampire still screaming profanities at her from outside the house.

“Every witch is different. For most, they draw on the elements to make potions and do spells. For others, and I suspect that includes you, you have other gifts. Like me, you’re a seer, no?”

I nod. “I see you. You’re beautiful.”

Her smile brightens her light even more. I have to shade my eyes to keep looking at her.

“You’ll find those gifts in time. When you need your magic, it’ll be there, waiting for you.” She rubs my hand, and though she isn’t much more than a stranger, it’s as welcome as if it came from my own sister. “Be very careful who sees your magic. Supernaturals will label you a threat, and they don’t mess around. You’ll have more enemies than you can shake a stick at.”

“Thank you, Justine. You have no idea how much I appreciate you helping me.”

“I’ll always be here if you need my help.”

I smile warmly at her. “Do you think you could help me with him?” I glance at the door as a rock the size of my head barrels through it and slams into the wall on the opposite side of the house.

Justine narrows her eyes. “He’ll pay for that.”

I have no doubt. This woman might be my new hero.