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The phone went silent and I released a hard breath. I hated the way the witches were always so vague about things.
When I pulled up the location Shayla sent and realized it was only a few minutes away, I wondered why they’d changed the plans because, from my understanding, we were meeting them closer to VRC.
“What’s up, son?” Ravage asked from the driver’s seat.
“That was Shayla. She said to meet her at this location and we all have to get out of the cars. Take a left up here.”
Ravage turned onto a dirt road surrounded by trees, and I texted Lyric, letting her know the extremely vague plan before I asked, “Do you know what we’re doing, Ravage?”
“Shayla said she had a plan but couldn’t say more until we got here. Something about other witches seeing her actions before she did them.”
I raised a brow, wondering if she knew the witches who had spelled the wards surrounding the Vampire Research Center.
Three miles ahead, Shayla stood on the side of the road, gleaming in the headlights of the van, and as Ravage parked, she strolled off toward the trees.
“Where the hell is she going?” I asked no one in particular, opening my car door.
Zeke, Marcus, and Erik got out of the back of the van just as Lyric, Sage, and Lynx exited the Jeep.
Lyric slid her hand into mine, intertwining our fingers. “What’s going on? Why are we meeting them so soon? It’s another thirty minutes away.”
I shrugged, pulling her behind me as we followed Ravage.
Under the canopy of the trees stood Shayla, dressed in a long black cloak, her two witch sisters who matched her attire, and a stranger.
“Hello, ladies.” Ravage strolled right up to Shayla, took her hand gently in his, and kissed the back of it. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“Alfred Johnathon Kingston, you never fail to amuse me.” Shayla pulled her hand away and I chuckled at the fact she used what Ravage liked to call his government name.
“Alfred?” Sage questioned, her brows pinched. “That’s less badass.”
Ravage snickered. “What do you know, girl? There were kings named Alfred.” He shook his head, staring at the stranger hiding in the shadows five feet behind the witches. “Who is she?”
“Come forth, my dear.”
The woman did as Shayla instructed and stepped into the moonlight. She didn’t have a matching cloak, but she had a book tucked under her arm.
“Hi,” she murmured low, her cheeks reddening as she nervously pushed her mousy brown hair behind her ear.
She looked to be in her late twenties and had a casual appearance. The long brown skirt hanging to her ankles and the knit top so high it almost covered her collarbone reminded me of those shy students in school who’d rarely speak and aced every test.
“This is Crystal Blue Waters. She’s new to our coven and needs the experience.”
The newcomer nervously glanced between us. “You can call me Blue.”
“Were your parents wanting to get you beat up as a child?” I asked with a smirk.
She pulled the book from under her arm and grasped it tightly between her hands while she simply said, “Sprecta.”
It felt like a boulder hit me, smacking against the front of my body and knocking the wind from my lungs before I flew backwards, landing on my back.
I jumped to my feet, fangs bared before Lyric even yelled, “Hey!”
Sage pulled her dagger out, going into a defensive stance.
The newcomer smiled, cocking her head. “You can’t really bully a witch.”
“Put your fangs away, son,” Ravage commanded more calmly than he normally did before glancing around at our crew. “All of you take a damn breath.”
