EIGHT
When Sunday pulled up to Vicky’s house two days later, she let the car idle for a few minutes as she collected her thoughts. Attending an esbat meant being in the presence of magic. Even though her prior reading of the house hadn’t hinted at any grave danger lurking in the shadows, steel-winged butterflies fluttered in her belly. It was a long time since Sunday participated in a magic circle. Though she didn’t know what to expect from this coven in particular, she knew that she had to stay on guard and hide her true nature from the witches. Powerful or not, even a veritable newbie could concoct the right spell to get a rise out of her.
When Vicky greeted Sunday at the door, Sunday hesitated to take her hand. The blood ran from her face, and she seriously considered pivoting on her heel and taking off. Instead, a tight smile formed on her lips, and she extended a trembling hand. Her body eased the instant she touched Vicky and sensed a stunning lack of innate ability.
So far, so good, Sunday thought.
“We’ve heard so much about you,” Vicky said, pulling Sunday into the house. “Everyone’s already arrived except Sammy, but she’s on her way.”
As they walked into the room, Vicky filled her in on the rest of the attendees.
“Constance and Michelle are over in the dining room,” she said. “Michelle is probably talking about her kids, since that’s all she ever talks about.” Vicky rolled her eyes and shrugged.
“ That’s my grandmother, Elisabeth,” she said, pointing to a white-haired woman sitting on the sofa near Eunice, the only witch Sunday knew in the coven besides her friends. “She’s been practicing since forever . She and my great-grandmother learned the craft when they came to the US. She’s sitting with Eunice, who’s also been studying her whole life.” Vicky put a hand on the small of Sunday’s back and guided her forward to greet them.
As Vicky brought Sunday toward the pair of women, Eunice rose and extended a powder-white hand to Sunday. Sunday recognized the unmistakable auras of two strong, elder witches skilled in their craft.
“This is Sunday, Kayla’s and Sammy’s friend.”
Behind them, Kayla squealed when she heard Sunday’s name. The last few days’ worth of practice in holding steadfast to her shields was paying off in spades. Immediately, Kayla dashed over and threw her arms over Sunday’s shoulders. This time, Kayla lavished Sunday with warmth.
Vicky passed the baton to Kayla, and she retreated to the dining table where the two other women chatted over hors d'oeuvres and tea.
“I’m so glad you made it!” Kayla said, squeezing Sunday’s shoulders. She radiated joy. Her wide, blue eyes danced over Sunday’s face as she realized, for the first time, that Sunday had actually agreed to come. “It means so much to us. Have you met Elisabeth yet?”
“No,” Sunday said, shaking her head and swallowing her nerves at making a full round of introductions.
At this meeting, however, Sunday determined to show interest in all the women, if only to give herself a purpose in attending. At the very least, she could test the women to make sure that her friends were in capable hands. One could never tell with witches. With her walls up, Sunday limited her readings of the women, but it didn’t actually matter one way or another. Her Incarnate ability to tap into the aura of other people was strong, regardless.
“Sisters Kayla and Samantha mentioned that they’d be bringing a friend to our humble circle,” Elisabeth said. Her soft hand surrounded Sunday’s, and she put another hand over it to clasp it lovingly between her palms.
“Sunday could really use the support,” Kayla interjected. “We’ve been trying to get her to join us for so long.”
“They tell me you guys are the closest thing to family a girl could get,” Sunday quipped, biting back her contempt for witches. She looked at Eunice, and instantly, her eyes softened. The witch was
When Sunday pulled up to Vicky’s house two days later, she let the car idle for a few minutes as she collected her thoughts. Attending an esbat meant being in the presence of magic. Even though her prior reading of the house hadn’t hinted at any grave danger lurking in the shadows, steel-winged butterflies fluttered in her belly. It was a long time since Sunday participated in a magic circle. Though she didn’t know what to expect from this coven in particular, she knew that she had to stay on guard and hide her true nature from the witches. Powerful or not, even a veritable newbie could concoct the right spell to get a rise out of her.
When Vicky greeted Sunday at the door, Sunday hesitated to take her hand. The blood ran from her face, and she seriously considered pivoting on her heel and taking off. Instead, a tight smile formed on her lips, and she extended a trembling hand. Her body eased the instant she touched Vicky and sensed a stunning lack of innate ability.
So far, so good, Sunday thought.
“We’ve heard so much about you,” Vicky said, pulling Sunday into the house. “Everyone’s already arrived except Sammy, but she’s on her way.”
As they walked into the room, Vicky filled her in on the rest of the attendees.
“Constance and Michelle are over in the dining room,” she said. “Michelle is probably talking about her kids, since that’s all she ever talks about.” Vicky rolled her eyes and shrugged.
“ That’s my grandmother, Elisabeth,” she said, pointing to a white-haired woman sitting on the sofa near Eunice, the only witch Sunday knew in the coven besides her friends. “She’s been practicing since forever . She and my great-grandmother learned the craft when they came to the US. She’s sitting with Eunice, who’s also been studying her whole life.” Vicky put a hand on the small of Sunday’s back and guided her forward to greet them.
As Vicky brought Sunday toward the pair of women, Eunice rose and extended a powder-white hand to Sunday. Sunday recognized the unmistakable auras of two strong, elder witches skilled in their craft.
“This is Sunday, Kayla’s and Sammy’s friend.”
Behind them, Kayla squealed when she heard Sunday’s name. The last few days’ worth of practice in holding steadfast to her shields was paying off in spades. Immediately, Kayla dashed over and threw her arms over Sunday’s shoulders. This time, Kayla lavished Sunday with warmth.
Vicky passed the baton to Kayla, and she retreated to the dining table where the two other women chatted over hors d'oeuvres and tea.
“I’m so glad you made it!” Kayla said, squeezing Sunday’s shoulders. She radiated joy. Her wide, blue eyes danced over Sunday’s face as she realized, for the first time, that Sunday had actually agreed to come. “It means so much to us. Have you met Elisabeth yet?”
“No,” Sunday said, shaking her head and swallowing her nerves at making a full round of introductions.
At this meeting, however, Sunday determined to show interest in all the women, if only to give herself a purpose in attending. At the very least, she could test the women to make sure that her friends were in capable hands. One could never tell with witches. With her walls up, Sunday limited her readings of the women, but it didn’t actually matter one way or another. Her Incarnate ability to tap into the aura of other people was strong, regardless.
“Sisters Kayla and Samantha mentioned that they’d be bringing a friend to our humble circle,” Elisabeth said. Her soft hand surrounded Sunday’s, and she put another hand over it to clasp it lovingly between her palms.
“Sunday could really use the support,” Kayla interjected. “We’ve been trying to get her to join us for so long.”
“They tell me you guys are the closest thing to family a girl could get,” Sunday quipped, biting back her contempt for witches. She looked at Eunice, and instantly, her eyes softened. The witch was
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