Chapter 5

5

CAROLINA

“ T hat cat is dead to us,” I tell Camila when she walks into the shop. The bell’s chime seems less harsh in response to her presence.

Even the inanimate objects like her more than everyone else.

She laughs as Silas emerges from the painting as if he hadn’t locked my familiar in the storage closet hours before. He lands perfectly on his feet before trotting over to Camila.

“What did he do this time?” she asks, eying her familiar suspiciously, but amusement is still displayed on her features.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Lina. Luna could have opened the door herself,” the soon-to-be-dead cat says as he rubs himself against Camila’s legs, weaving in and out of them in a figure eight.

My fingers twitch to spell him like I did as a witchling and have him coughing up hairballs for a week, but I refrain. Barely.

Camila reaches down to pick him up and looks him in the eyes. I swear she couldn’t be stern if she tried. “With what hands could a giant snake open a door, Silas? And what was she doing in the closet in the first place?”

I roll my eyes. Camila’s definition of punishment was what some might call gentle parenting . That approach may have worked if Silas was a child and not a 600-year-old warlock turned into a cat.

Luna and Silas had been with us almost our entire lives. All witches had familiars to protect them from danger and guide them during their training. Witches from particularly strong bloodlines like ours often had familiars at birth, but many didn’t receive a visit from them until they started their training.

Witches didn’t choose their familiars at shops or shelters as mortals did their pets. Tugged by an invisible string, familiars found their way to their witches. Our mother said that my father’s heart almost stopped when he first saw Luna on our porch the day after I’d come home from the hospital. After all, it wasn’t every day that an 8-foot reticulated python slithered into your home. He’d been grateful when Silas had been a house cat.

For the most part, familiars were witches and warlocks who had been banished for one reason or another.

Silas had broken every rule in the witch’s book before the Council gave him the choice between execution and becoming a familiar.

Luna, however, had grown tired of hiding her magic from the humans and decided becoming a familiar would give her some relief. She thought choosing the form of a large snake might allow her to live in peace without looking after a witchling. Surely, no Fate would forge a bond between a witch-in-training and a python. She had spent four centuries of solitude in a rainforest near the coast of Indonesia before she felt my power call to her.

To Luna’s absolute distaste, Silas joined our family when Cami was born. Almost immediately, Silas and Luna developed a strange sort of relationship, one that primarily consisted of Silas aggravating her to no end .

“I told her I thought I saw her breakfast scamper in there,” Silas says, a tone of innocence coating his words.

“And did you actually see it?” Camila raises a brow at her familiar.

Silas dips his head low, a movement that could be described as a shrug. “Must have been the light.” Before Cami could scold him further, Silas changed the subject. “Carolina got a visitor today. A detective.”

Camila’s honey-brown eyes flash to mine. “A detective?” I give her a quick dip of my chin, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning a hip against the back counter. “Asking about the disappearances?”

“He’s new.”

Camila nods slowly, pressing Silas against her chest. “Is he…”

“I didn’t sense anything magical about him,” I tell her and glance down at Silas, who murmurs something too low for me to hear. I narrow my eyes at him when Camila smirks at me.

“So, he was cute, huh?” Camila’s voice sing-songs.

I roll my eyes and cross my arms. “ Cauldron , that’s so not important here. What did Esme say?”

The humor in her expression dissipates instantly. “She hadn’t heard much beyond rumblings, but the City Coven has been talking about a prophecy. They think it might be related,” Camila says, placing Silas on the floor.

My fingers grip the counter’s edge behind me as a knot forms in my stomach. A prophecy. Great, that’s just what we need.

Camila continues, her voice growing haunted,

“When men fall, and the moon replaces the sun, a darkness will return, and a joined power will rule the worlds of might and magic. ”

My breath catches in my throat. “Could that be any vaguer?” I say, trying to alleviate the weight in my stomach, but it doesn’t help. I clear my throat, “What do you know about this one, Silas?”

He hops onto the counter across from me and settles onto his belly. “It’s old. Older than Luna and me, for sure. I think it’s part of the First Witch’s grimoire.”

“Why do they think it’s this one?” I ask Camila.

She shakes her head, “Esme didn’t know. They won’t share that information with an inactive.” Her lip twitches in disgust.

Camila and I have always treated Esme like one of our own, but not all magics were as accepting. The City Coven is large enough that they may be more selective in which inactive witches they trust with information, so it’s surprising that they told Esme anything, regardless.

I shake my head, pulling my arms around my chest again, but it’s no longer a posture of apathy. It’s the only thing fighting the growing unease inside me.

“How is she doing otherwise?”

Camila frowns. “She seems okay. I could tell something was bothering her. I think she can sense the same thing we can. I don’t like that she’s so far from us. I wish she’d move back, especially now. We can’t protect her while she’s in the city and we’re in Grove Meadow.”

I chew on my lip. Esme had made it clear that she wanted to get out of our small town for the same reasons I had wanted to, but I had hoped that she’d fall in with a new coven when she moved to the city. It seemed like that didn’t happen.

“Any ideas on what to do now?” Camila asks, coming over to scratch Silas’s head. A comfort that they both take a moment to bask in as I glance at the hidden door to the sanctum currently housing my familiar.

“We need some time to work through the prophecy, but if the disappearances are related, we have to dive deeper. There has to be a connection we’re missing,” I say, tucking an errant strand of hair behind my ear and turning back to them.

I can’t help but think that our grandparents would know what to do but immediately shake it off. We can’t depend on them anymore. Camila and I were utterly and unmistakably alone now.

Camila sighs and drops her hand from Silas to drum her nails against the counter. “I’ve gotten all I can from the families. If I bring them any more gift baskets, they’re going to call the police.”

That’s it . I straighten my posture as the to-do list forms in my head. “Camila, I think you should meet Detective O’Reilly.”

Her eyes grow wide. “You want me to talk to the police? Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?” Silas lets out a sharp meow in agreement.

In any other circumstance, I would also think I’d lost my mind. Getting directly involved in an investigation in which we were the prime suspects was practically asking for a one-way ticket to prison. But, if Camila could get some information from the detective using her truth serum pastries, that could work to our advantage.

“I think you’ll find Detective O’Reilly to be…different than the others. He’s curious, not suspicious.”

Camila frowns at me, a tense crease forming between her brows. “What’s the difference?”

For someone who’d grown up in this town, I’d say there was no difference, but my intuition told me Detective O’Reilly wasn’t the enemy. In fact, it was telling me that getting to know the detective might be in our best interest and the only way to uncover the mystery behind these disappearances.

“Well, for one, I don’t think he actually believes we have anything to do with the case. ”

Her brows furrow in surprise. “What makes you say that?”

“Just a hunch,” I reply, lifting a shoulder.

Camila doesn’t ask for elaboration. We both knew better than to doubt each other’s intuition.

It does take a moment before she nods. “Alright. Am I just supposed to wait for him to come back to the shop, or did you have some other bright idea?”

“Actually…” I say, tossing her an apron from the hook beside me. “Better get baking, Cam; you’ve got a visit to make to the new detective in town.”

She catches the cloth easily. “Fine, but I’m not making extras for you,” she remarks, flicking Silas’s nose. When he lets out a hiss in protest, she wags a finger at him, “That’s for locking Luna in the closet.”

At least that was something.