The woman driving turned off the main road that led into the town of Salem, Massachusetts, according to the signs. I’d never been

there, obviously, having needed to stay as far away from Crystal Hollow as possible. My mom had told me the stories of what had become of the town that had once been the home to our ancestors, how the stories of the witches hanged there had become what the town was known for, and the way tourists flocked there during the entirety of October.

Somehow it felt like the perfect karma to me that the town was known for the people it had tried to rid itself of, the persecutors fading into history. It felt like something that would have brought me peace from beyond the grave.

The Headmaster of Hollow’s Grove sat beside me, typing frantically on his cell phone. His thumbs flew over the screen with speed that should have been impossible, a blur as I swallowed down the surge of unease in my gut.

His face was set into a stern expression, as if whoever waited on the other side of the conversation had annoyed him to no end. His inky, dark hair was subtly swept back from his face, revealing his square jaw and the well-trimmed facial hair that framed it. With a straight nose to fully define his profile, I knew just how difficult my father’s plan would be with him at the helm of the Vessels.

If he knew what I was or what I’d come to do, he’d close the distance between us and tear out my throat before I even had time to beg for my life.

The fact that I wasn’t loyal to the Coven any more than I was the Vessels wouldn’t save me.

Not when he discovered I was the one who could Unmake him.

He glanced toward me, forcing me to turn my stare out the window. I swallowed down my irritation that I’d been caught studying him, staring at what I could only assume was a face he was used to using to get his way. Where he probably thought I was interested, I’d only been sizing up the task ahead of me.

Seduce the Vessel. Find the bones.

Nausea churned in my gut at the thought, at the task my own father had laid out for me. There had to be another way to find them, because the thought of me being able to seduce an immortal creature who looked like that was laughable. Especially when all he really wanted was to eat me.

And probably not the fun way.

“The Covenant has requested I present you to them as soon as we arrive,” he said, tucking his phone into the pocket of his suit jacket.

I leveled him with a glare that must have conveyed exactly what I thought of being brought to the very remains of the woman who had made my mother so miserable she left the only home she’d ever known. She’d faked her own death to buy her freedom, killing a woman who looked like her and burning her corpse until it was unrecognizable.

Even though she’d chosen someone that the world would be better off without, a woman who abused her own child, the death and what she’d done had haunted my mother until the day she too died and joined the afterlife.

I didn’t bother to pretend I didn’t know of the Covenant. Doing so when I’d clearly known what Thorne was the moment I saw him on my doorstep would be futile.

“What interest would the Covenant have in me, Headmaster Thorne?” I asked, shifting my gaze away from the road that quickly shifted from pavement to dirt. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and I couldn’t decide if the formality of the address irritated him somehow.

“You are the last of their living descendants. I think the better question is what won’t they want from you, Miss Madizza,” he said, his voice turning mocking as he said my name.

“And what happens when I have no interest in being their pet witch?” I raised my brow, flinching back when he finally met my heated stare. The gold surrounding his pupils seemed to burn as he studied me, flaming with the warning he wanted me to heed.

“You are not the only one who thinks of Crystal Hollow as a prison, but the world isn’t yet ready for us to exist in the open. You endangered us all by living outside the wards for as long as you did, with the kind of magic you possess. There is an entire line of magic trapped within your veins until your brother comes of age and claims what is his. Any other witch would have gotten rid of him before he could do so,” Headmaster Thorne explained, picking a strand of my deep red hair off his suit. It swayed in the breeze from the flowing air at the front of the vehicle as he dropped it beside me, the only sign of him being remotely affected by our scuffle in the woods.

“Perhaps that selfish greed is why only I remain of the Greens. Maybe the witches deserve the fate that awaits them without connection to the magic that formed the wards,” I snapped, staring up at him.

His face was so close to mine as he twisted in his seat, his lips curving up into a little grin. “You’ll get no argument from me that the witches are selfish, greedy creatures. Do not forget, your ancestors came into their powers by selling their souls to the devil himself. The magic that flows through your veins may be green, but your heart is black like all the others in the end.”

I scoffed, laughing as I reached between us and poked him in the space where his heart should have been. “At least I have one,” I said.

His gaze dropped to the finger against his dress shirt, to the place where only fabric separated us from touching. It trailed leisurely over my finger and hand, up my wrist and sweater-covered arm until it jumped up to meet my gaze.

“I believe the humans have this saying that may serve you well,” he said, reaching up to grasp my hand. He squeezed it tightly enough that it felt like my finger bones ground together, lowering it into my lap. “Don’t poke the bear?”

“What do you know of humans?” I asked, refusing to look at where he still held my hand.

“I know they don’t taste as good as witchlings,” he said, bringing my hand to his face. He bent it back, exposing my wrist as he placed it beneath

his nose and inhaled my scent.

I drew it back sharply, struggling against his grip as I growled a feral warning. “They’re also much less likely to slit your throat while you sleep.” He released my hand finally with a small, crooked smirk—revealing a hint of a single fang. I couldn’t tell if it was a threat or a promise, if he

meant to instill fear or hoped for something more carnal.

“Does that mean you intend to be in my bed, Witchling?”

“Over my dead body,” I hissed, turning back to face the window.

Trees surrounded both sides of the road, curving over the gravel to form a canopy. Mist filled the woods around us, stretching toward the sky and casting an eerie presence over the forest that surrounded Crystal Hollow.

“I’ll have to come to yours then,” Thorne said, making me snap my gaze away from the window and back to glare at him. The arrogance in those steel-blue eyes was everything I dreaded, and I decided it wasn’t a matter of threat or sin.

It was both. “I will—”

“Would you two just fuck already?” the woman from the driver’s seat said with a groan. She rubbed her chin on the steering wheel as she drove along the winding road, climbing up the subtlest of inclines. “You’ll feel better once you get it out of your system.”

“I’m not sure I could live with the shame,” I said, giving her a saccharine smile.

She raised her head, looking at me in the rearview mirror as she grinned. “Don’t knock it until you try it, baby girl,” she said, lifting her chin. “I’ve got a friend—”

“No, thank you,” I said, swallowing back the surge of nausea spinning in my gut. The Vessels were a symptom of the disease I’d been raised to hate, bodies created to exist alongside the Coven. Housing something nefarious and sinister.

Even knowing that it would likely be part of what I needed to do to achieve what I’d come here to do… I couldn’t stomach it yet.

I wasn’t ready.

“I’ll bet Kairos would be more than willing to give you a soft introduction when you’re ready,” she said, turning the steering wheel to go around a particularly harsh curve.

I swallowed back my nausea, leaning forward in my seat. The belt stretched to accommodate me as I lifted my hands, touching them to the man’s shoulders from behind. He didn’t so much as twitch as I moved them toward the side of his neck, trailing my fingers over his skin gently. He shuddered at the touch, at the warmth of my body against his cool skin.

If he was the chilled air of autumn, I was the warmth of deep earth that kept out the frost. Reminiscent of the mud from which he’d been formed, calling his physical form home.

A low, subtle growl vibrated through the car, bringing a smile to my face as I pressed the side of my cheek against the back of his headrest. My eyes went to Thorne, finding his cold stare watching my every move. I held it, putting every bit of challenge I felt into the glare I gave him as I spoke.

“Do you want to fuck me, Kairos?” I asked, watching as Thorne’s upper lip twitched.

The other man didn’t answer, remaining wordless as his body was perfectly, unnaturally still. I pressed two fingers into the front of his throat, gripping him slightly and placing my flesh directly beneath the path of his nose. I didn’t take my eyes off Thorne’s as Kairos grabbed my hand, lifting it to his nose as if he might scent me.

Thorne’s growl made him stop dead, dropping me as if I’d burned him. “That’s enough,” the headmaster ordered, sighing as if it pained him to admit that I’d made my point.

“I’m the last of the Madizza witches who gave their blood to the formation of your Vessel. Not only will the Covenant be eager to breed me with a male witch of their choosing, but I could have my pick of your kind if I so chose,” I said, crinkling my nose as I sat back in my seat and glared at the man across from me. “You know, for fun. So do not disillusion yourself into thinking that I would ever choose you.”

“That sounds like a challenge, Witchling,” Thorne said, grinning as if he’d won something. “I very much look forward to reminding you how much I hate you when I bury my cock between your thighs.”

I flushed, my mouth dropping open as I fumbled for words. Thorne’s steely blue eyes burned with cold as he studied me, his smile broadening when I didn’t have a quick enough response.

“Called it,” the woman said, saving me from having to come up with a response. I shifted my gaze toward her, trying to quell the racing of my heart. It was all according to the plan my father had decided would be the

most likely to produce results, so why couldn’t I squash the dread sinking into my stomach?

“Are we nearly there?” I asked, swallowing as I looked out the window once again.

The trees seemed taller, more ominous, the farther we got from the main road. The mist seemed to spread, thickening and becoming more difficult to see through. The brush and dead leaves on the forest floor were lost to it, and I realized how startling the forest was without that. It was something I’d become so familiar with, something I needed to feel rooted.

I didn’t like it when I couldn’t see the earth at my feet.

“Nothing to say?” Thorne asked, and I didn’t bother to glance at him. I knew the exact expression I would find if I did, could hear the smug note of satisfaction in his voice.

“I learned long ago that sometimes silence is louder than words. I see that is a lesson you’ve somehow managed to avoid in your centuries haunting our world,” I said, keeping my eyes trained on the unnatural stillness of the woods.

There were no birds to be found in the trees or squirrels climbing up the trunks as the woman took the bends slowly. We were going up a slow, steady incline, but even looking behind me, I couldn’t see any movement in the treetops.

I returned my gaze to my window, studying the mist as it shifted and moved. A black streak darted through it, appearing for only a moment before it was gone again.

“Did you see that?” I asked, turning a shocked stare back to Thorne once again.

“Creatures far worse than witches call these woods home. You’d do well to remember that should you get thoughts of running off,” he answered, and I tried not to think of the massive black thing or the glimpse of glowing eyes.

What manner of beast was that large?

The slope of the hill grew sharper, creating a steady, winding bend that seemed to go on and on forever. It reminded me of the on-ramp for the interstate when Mom and I had taken Ash to the aquarium in New York. A continuous circle that made my stomach twist with the curve. I had no doubt that if it hadn’t been for the belt strapped across my chest, I would have slid toward Thorne unwillingly.

As we climbed and came to the top of what I’d assumed to be a hill, I realized it was, in fact, a cliff. The school jutted up out of the cliff side, arches and spires reaching for the sky. It was built in light gray stone, with arched windows and doors covering the face of the building. The window atop the main doors was enormous, half the height of the school in its entirety, with detailed windowpanes that laid out Hecate’s maze.

My skin throbbed at the visual symbol of the Goddess who’d created us all. The first witch who’d led to all of our creation, forming an alliance with the devil and leading to the witches serving him.

She’d been the first necromancer, the first to summon the other clans of the Coven for each to be bestowed with magic. The condition of her being the first witch had meant that she and her descendants would be the only ones to have power over the dead, reserving that ability for herself.

Reserving it for me.

The car came to a stop in front of the main entrance, and I didn’t hesitate to shove open my door and stand before the school. The steps leading up to the doors were six in number. Six steps, six doors, and six windows surrounding them. I turned to look to the other side of the car as the Vessels stepped out, my eyes landing on the memorial stone overlooking the sea. I made my way to it, sidestepping Thorne as he reached for me.

It was a simple granite slab, with the names of the dead carved into it. “They’re the witches who were lost in the massacre,” the woman answered, her voice solemn. “They say their ghosts still haunt the school.”

I forced myself not to let any emotion show when I found my aunt’s name.

Loralei Hecate.

“It’s a shame there aren’t more names here,” I said, twisting my lips into a scowl. It was, in a sense, a horror that the Vessels could rarely be killed alongside the witches, and that those who had corrupted the Coven hadn’t been the ones to die.

My hatred ran deep, but it didn’t run quite that deep.

The woman blinked at me as I turned my back on the memorial, giving no indication that I knew any of the names found there. None could suspect I was aware of any of the events that transpired in more than a vague sense, or that I had any personal connection to them.

My mother hadn’t been related to Loralei, and my father, well…

He wasn’t my father as far as the Coven knew.

The Hecate line had died with my aunt, and for now, that was how it needed to stay.