Max managed to pick me up just fine. His expression became so grim, it felt like his lips would fall from his face. “Well I’m not going to let him get you,” Max said, probably intending his blustering voice to be reassuring.
Problem was, it didn’t reassure me.
I found my gaze locking on the letter. I caught sight of Fagan’s criminally neat, cursive handwriting. It sent a powerful wave of sickness crashing against my gut. It reminded me of how expertly he’d wielded that sword.
I crammed a hand on my stomach and took several staggering steps back. Before I could fall, Bridgette was by my side. She shored up my stance by placing a hand on my back. “Don’t worry. There’s no way we’re going to give that bastard what he wants. He is overstating his capabilities.”
“We don’t know that,” Sarah said. She turned to face Bridgette, a tear trailing down her cheeks. “We don’t know that. We’ve underestimated him in the past. And because of that, we’ve lost six of our people,” her voice cracked.
Though Bridgette usually looked strong, now she appeared weak as her shoulders dropped and her cheeks became slack.
“There’s no way we could give Chi up,” Max suddenly snapped. It was the very first time I’d seen him show anything other than affection towards Sarah.
She sliced her gaze towards him. “Of course not,” she said through a stuttering breath. “But we have to take this seriously,” she said as she gestured with the letter. Her fingers were wrapped around it so tightly, it would have taken a crowbar to pry them back.
Silence pushed through the room. A silence that was thick and heavy with fear.
I wanted to turn back, stagger over to my chair, and fall into it while I still could.
I couldn’t, though. I couldn’t move. I waited for the sparks to return, to flash through my vision, to warn me that Fagan was hours away from killing me and there was nothing I could do.
Nothing I could do.
I felt myself pale, felt my breath lodge in my chest. Before I could keel over and faint, Max broke away from Sarah’s side and strode towards me. He clasped both hands on my shoulders, leaned down, and looked right into my eyes.
The effect was like having an anchor tied around my stomach. I was no longer swept along by the tides of fear. I stood there and stared at him.
“He’s playing, fishing,” Max said, pressing his teeth against his lips hard as he said the word fishing. “But we’re not going to bite. He would only send that letter if he was desperate. If he thought the witches could protect you. And they can.” As he spoke, he turned over his shoulder and made direct eye contact with Sarah.
I wondered what their relationship was. I mean, I was assuming it was romantic because there seemed to be a great deal of affection between them. And yet, I couldn’t deny that right now Max was standing up for me.
“He’s right. There’s no way we can give Chi up. Not only did she save my life, but can you imagine what Fagan would do with her heart?”
It was a startling way to put it, and I found myself gasping.
Max’s grip simply tightened around my shoulders, his fingers squeezing gently against the fabric of my blouse.
I let myself lean into his grip as I struggled for breath.
Sarah Anne cut her gaze from me, to Bridgette, to Max. Then she sighed, her shoulders dropping towards her chest. “You’re right. We have to track Fagan down,” she admitted in a tight voice.
“How?” I demanded. A second before, I’d been overcome with emotion, but that didn’t stop me from asking this question. Because this question could save my life.
“There’s only one way,” Bridgette interrupted.
Sarah frowned, ticking her head towards Bridgette. “That’s going to be dangerous,” she said, obviously knowing what Bridgette was suggesting.
“What are you talking about?” I demanded once more.
“A séance,” Max answered.
He looked right at me.
I looked right at him.
“What do you want me to do?” I gulped. Though Max hadn’t asked me to do anything, there was something about the look in his eyes that told me this responsibility would fall on my shoulders again.
I heard Bridgette take a pressured breath. “You’ve seen him recently, haven’t you? Fagan?”
Warily, I nodded, even though it was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to admit to the fact I’d met Fagan. It was that I didn’t want to conjure the memory of either times he’d stood by my face, laughing at my prone body.
“Then you can help us locate him,” Bridgette supplied.
“I can?” I stuttered.
She nodded. She walked over, reached out a hand, and placed it reassuringly on my shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Once we know where that bastard is, we can stop him,” she said, voice punching out of her throat.
Though earlier today I’d been worried about vigilante justice, as I stared into Bridgette’s eyes and let myself be soothed by her promise, my worries flitted away.
Because Fagan had to be stopped.
He had to be stopped. Now. Because I was running out of time.
Chapter 7
The next thing I knew, we were organizing a séance. I say we. I, of course, just sat there and did nothing. It wasn’t as if I knew any witches.
In my head, séances consisted of naked witches dancing around under the moonlight.
That’s not what I got.
Once Bridgette and Sarah had made their hasty calls and gathered together their coven, they led me towards the back of the store.
Sarah Anne reached underneath the collar of her sweet dress and pulled out a
