CHAPTER 1: Lucas

The coven claimed the town cemetery was haunted, which made it the perfect place to sneak into tonight. See, when I was a kid, I lost a bet to my buddy Grant. Loser had to go through with their Evoking Ceremony in the darkest, creepiest place we could find. Nothing beat the abandoned mausoleum on the far side of the cemetery. 

“Let’s speed it up, losers!” Chloe called from ahead of us. “The witching hour is approaching.”

 It was the end of November and freezing out. Snow dusted the ground, and the wind bit at my face. Tall trees rose up on either side of us, and the narrow dirt road ahead was so dark that I couldn’t see the end of it. Above us, the moon was half full, and the stars didn’t do much to illuminate the Connecticut landscape. The darkness didn’t bother me, though. I was used to it.

Grant leaned over to me. He wore a thick dark winter coat that matched the color of his eyes. His black hair was gelled to stand on end in a trendy way that seemed like too much work. He looked a lot like his mom and had inherited most of her Latin American features.

Grant spoke in a low whisper. “Remind me again why we invited her.”

I shrugged and glanced ahead at Chloe, who wore a dark jacket over a black dress and thick tights. She carried a black leather bag and walked with a skip in her step. I swore, that girl thrived off the energy of the moon or something. 

The truth was, I didn’t know why I’d invited Chloe. We weren’t dating, and she could be kind of a bitch sometimes. But when she asked to come see what an Evoking Ceremony was like, I couldn’t refuse. I’d watched my brother’s and Grant’s ceremonies, and they’d helped me prepare for tonight. She hadn’t had a chance to take part in one yet, so I figured I could at least prepare her for her own.

“We’re coming, princess,” Grant called up to her.

She tossed her raven hair over her shoulder and stopped in the middle of the path to wait for us. “Get to know me a little more and you won’t be calling me princess.”

She winked at him, and he shot me a curious glance. The two didn’t know each other well. Chloe and I met in high school. She still had a year left, while Grant and I were in our first year at Miriam College of Witchcraft. He’d moved away from Octavia Falls when we were kids after his parents split, and he’d only just moved back for school.

“What am I supposed to call you?” Grant asked.

“Wicked,” I joked, cutting in.

Chloe cackled for show. “You know it. Now come on, Lucas.”

She grabbed me by the arm when we reached her and started pulling me down the road. She squeezed so tight I thought I might lose feeling in my hand. 

“Where’s Eric, by the way?” Grant asked. “Is he meeting us there?”

“Dunno,” I said. 

I was staying home for the weekend and had checked his room before I left, but it was empty. It wasn’t unusual. My older brother didn’t sleep well and often went for midnight walks to clear his mind– to quiet the voices in his head. I shouldn’t have taken it personally, but I really wanted him here with me tonight. I already knew my parents wouldn’t be. Dad didn’t care, and Mom was dealing with enough already.

“Forget Eric,” Chloe said, clearly not reading my fallen expression. “We’re here.”

Where the thick forest ended, a towering iron gate began. On the other side stretched an endless graveyard, with headstones large and small reaching up toward the night sky.

“You’re up,” Chloe said, clapping Grant on the back.

Grant stepped forward and wrapped his hands around the lock that secured the gate shut. He’d gone through with his Evoking Ceremony last month and was the only one of us three who had magic. He was an Alchemist– and had the cauldron mark on the back of his arm to prove it.

Grant muttered an incantation under his breath. “We seek to step upon this grass. Unlock this gate and let us pass.”

A green glow lit up his hands. Tendrils of magic swirled out of his palms and twisted around the gate. Then came a soft click, and the gate swung open.

Grant smiled proudly and stepped inside the cemetery, holding the gate open for Chloe and me. “Easy peasy.”

Chloe snorted. “I don’t know why they even bother locking this place up.”

I shrugged. “To deter people, I guess?”

“Well, nothing’s going to deter us,” Chloe stated confidently.

“Come on.” I cocked my head in the direction of the mausoleum. “It’s this way.”

The two followed me through an endless maze of gravestones, until we reached a line of trees. We left the graveyard and stepped into an overgrown forest. Prickly berry brush, fallen logs, and sharp rocks lined the forest floor, but I walked right over them and continued on my way.

“Are you sure this is the right spot, Lucas?” Grant struggled through the brush as it caught on his clothes. 

“For sure,” I replied. “It’s just up here.”

Just as I said it, the mausoleum came into view. The bricks were covered in moss and had weathered over time, and the roof had long ago caved in. The building had to be as old as our town itself. 

Apparently, the bodies had been removed and buried elsewhere, but rumors said some of the skeletons remained. According to legend, certain spirits wanted their bodies to stay in the mausoleum, so they hounded a group of Seers until they gave in and moved their corpses back to their proper resting place. The rumors had never been confirmed, of course, but Grant said he hoped to see a skeleton tonight. I told him he wouldn’t be able to handle it, considering he’d screamed when he saw the plastic hand we’d put in the punch bowl at Halloween.

Chloe looked amazed. After a few moments, she picked her jaw up off the ground and said, “Well, what are we waiting for?”

She rushed ahead. I stepped over broken bricks and shattered beer bottles to follow her. It was kind of creepy inside, with a small bit of moonlight illuminating the shadows. The room wasn’t very big, barely the size of my bedroom. Most of the grave markers had been smashed, leaving behind large holes in the walls that could fit a casket. Others were intact. I wondered about those, but I wasn’t curious enough to investigate. The ground was flat concrete, but it was covered in dirt, dust, and broken bits of building.

Chloe kicked rocks and other debris aside, making room for the ceremony. She set her bag down and pulled out five candles– one to represent each of the five Casts within our coven. Tonight, our goddess, Mother Miriam, would awaken my magical powers and assign me to one of the Casts. I was pretty sure I’d get Mentalist like my parents– the Cast known for their telepathic and telekinetic abilities– but it was hard to say. We all thought Eric would be a Mentalist, and he’d been gifted the powers of a Seer.

Chloe placed the candles in a wide circle, then pointed to the center. “Lie down, loser.”

Grant frowned at her choice of words. Like I’d told him before, it was Chloe’s term of endearment.

I sat on the cold ground, propping my elbows on my knees. “Well, Grant. Take it away.”

“Okay, if you’re ready.” Grant plopped himself cross-legged in front of me on the other side of the candles.

Chloe used a lighter to light each of the five candles, then found a seat on a huge rock, watching intently. The light cast flickering shadows across the walls of the mausoleum. My heart started to pound heavily in my chest, but I didn’t let it show. 

“We’re not yet to the witching hour, so allow me to say a few words before we begin.” Grant snapped his fingers and a small leatherbound book materialized out of nowhere. He opened it to the first page. 

“Aw, man,” I complained. “Do you have to?”

Knowing Grant, it was something stupid, like a collection of roasts to rile me up before the ceremony.

“Yes, I have to,” he deadpanned. He cleared his throat before he began reading. “Evoking Ceremony… what is it?”

Chloe groaned. “We know all this.”

Grant frowned up at her. “Humor me, would ya?”

Chloe didn’t say another word as Grant returned his attention to the book. 

“As I was saying…” He made a show of reading the passage like it was a scary story. “On the eve of a witch or warlock’s nineteenth birthday, at the witching hour, they become eligible to contact Mother Miriam through a sacred ritual called the Evoking Ceremony. This ritual can be performed only once, and only on the night of eligibility.”

He broke character to add, “So don’t screw it up, okay?”

“I’m not going to screw it up,” I huffed.

Grant turned back to the book and continued. “Through this ceremony, the witch or warlock will be tested by Mother Miriam. If she judges you a fit for the coven, your powers will be awakened, and you will bear the mark of one of the five Casts within the Miriamic Coven. Should you fail Mother Miriam’s test, you shall be banished from the coven for all eternity.”

His voice fell dramatically at the last three words.

I raised an eyebrow. “All eternity?”

Grant shrugged. “That’s what it says here.”

I rolled my eyes, but inside, I was quivering. I didn’t know what would happen during the ceremony or how Mother Miriam would test me, since the trials were different for everyone. But I knew one thing. I couldn’t be banished from the coven. This was my home. These were my people.

Grant continued reading. “The ceremony requires at least one witch or warlock who has already undergone their Evoking Ceremony. Place five candles in a circle”– he gestured to the candles we’d already set up– “and repeat the following phrase.”

He paused for a moment, and Chloe eagerly asked, “What’s the phrase?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Grant said. “Lucas, you’re going to need to lie on your back. Says so here.”

“Okay.” I did as I was told and stretched out across the cold floor. My gaze turned up through the gaping hole in the roof– if you could call it a roof anymore, since there was almost nothing of it left. I stared at the stars, trying to force my pulse to slow. I shouldn’t be afraid of what was to come, so why was my body freaking out?

Grant checked his phone. “We have one minute until midnight. Are you ready, Lucas?”

I took a deep breath. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good,” Grant said. “Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help you feel more comfortable.”

“Conjure a space heater?” I joked.

Grant nudged my foot with his. “Shut up and relax, smartass.”

I gave him a salute, and he chuckled.

He stared down at his phone a few seconds longer. It felt like an eternity. Finally, he took a breath and set his phone aside. “The witching hour is upon us. We can begin.”

I heard Chloe shift on her rock, but she stayed silent, which was actually kind of shocking. The girl never shut her mouth.

Grant began to mutter the spell beneath his breath. “The clock has struck the witching hour. It’s time to wake this warlock’s power. We call our goddess down to earth. To bear witness to this new rebirth. A series of tests he shall partake. And join the coven before day breaks.”

My body began to rise from the concrete as Grant repeated the incantation. I knew this would happen, as I’d seen it in ceremonies before, but the sensation was stranger than I imagined. I felt as if I could fall at any moment, but I tried to push the fear from my mind. I trusted Mother Miriam and the rituals she’d put in place for the coven. She wouldn’t have us do this if it could hurt us. So I closed my eyes and relaxed.

Grant’s voice continued as he repeated the incantation over and over again. The words started to fade together as I let the magical feeling of floating in mid-air overtake me. Warmth entered my bones, which was weird because of how cold it was outside. A little warmth was all I needed to know that this was working, that I could take whatever Mother Miriam threw at me. I belonged in the coven, and no trial was going to change that.

Suddenly, the sensation of falling jolted throughout my body. My eyes shot open as my body slammed into the ground, knocking the wind out of me. I sprang upright to a sitting position, my heart pounding against the walls of my chest. Shit. Something had gone wrong. 

As my pulse slowed, I glanced around. It was so dark that all I saw were shadows. For a second, I forgot where I was. It took me a moment to make sense of my surroundings. The crumbled bricks of the abandoned mausoleum were scattered all around me, and the candles Chloe had set up were still there, but they’d been blown out. My friends were nowhere to be seen. 

Concern whipped through me. I reached into my jacket pocket to pull out my phone to use as a light, but it wasn’t there. I checked the other pocket, then my pants, but it was gone.

Fucking Chloe. I should’ve known she’d pull some stunt like this. I was fuming.

I got to my feet and called out into the forest. “Really, guys?”

There was no reply, except for the sound of the wind whistling through a hole in the wall. A chill traveled down my spine, and my breath turned to ice in the air.

“It’s not funny!” I shouted. “This isn’t the time for some stupid prank.”

All that met me was silence– until I heard the sound of a stick breaking in the distance. I stepped out of the mausoleum and started making my way through the brush toward the noise. Thick fog blanketed the forest floor, so much that I could barely see the underbrush beneath my feet. The moon was all I had to light my way.

“Grant?” I yelled into the trees. I couldn’t believe he’d agreed to go along with this!

By now, he was probably crouched somewhere with his hand over his mouth, trying not to give his location away. Any second now, he’d burst into laughter he couldn’t hold back.

Except the laughter never came. 

I slowed my step and listened closely. It was eerily silent– so much that the hair on the back of my neck stood. That was never a good sign.

“Guys, you need to come out right now!” I demanded sternly. I wasn’t screwing around. This whole thing was starting to freak me out. 

I opened my mouth to shout again, but before I could get anything out, a groan met my ears. It was a pained groan that sent my stomach plummeting to my toes– the kind you couldn’t fake. I immediately started racing in the direction it came from as worry slammed into me. The groan came again, louder this time. I only ran faster, dodging around thick tree trunks and jumping over thick brush.

And then I saw him. A figure lay on the ground in the fog, curled up in the fetal position and shivering. 

I came to an immediate halt, but I couldn’t make out what was happening in the darkness. I took a cautious step forward, my heart racing. “Grant?”

If this was all an elaborate plan of Chloe’s, I was going to curse the bitch the second I got my magic.

The figure let out another pained cry, and I nearly shit myself. The voice was familiar, but it wasn’t Grant’s. All the blood drained from my face– though it felt as if it was being sucked out of my entire body. My knees went weak, and my hands shook at my sides.

“Eric?” I stepped closer, until I could make out his features in the shadows.

Eric lay in the middle of the forest next to a thick oak tree, clutching his stomach. A dark substance coated his hands–

Holy shit! It was blood! And it was everywhere. It was so thick that it dripped out of his hands and soaked into the forest floor. It looked like he was trying to hold his guts inside himself.

I dropped to my brother’s side in an instant. “Eric! What are you doing here!?”

Eric’s face had paled until it was entirely void of color. A thick sheen of sweat coated his skin– even though it was ice cold out and all he wore was a t-shirt and jeans. Beside him lay a black cloth bag with its contents spilled out all over the forest floor. All I could process was a few potions vials, a deck of tarot cards, and a bloody dagger.

The dagger caught my attention, but only briefly. It didn’t cross my mind whether the person who’d done this was still lurking around. I was less concerned about finding out what had happened to him and more concerned about getting him somewhere safe. I didn’t know how much time we had before he’d lost too much blood. Eric gave an involuntary shudder.

I quickly stripped my jacket off and tossed it over him. “Tell me how bad it is. Eric! Eric!”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Forcing my quivering hands to steady, I cupped his face in my hands and slapped him a little to get his attention.

“Eric, look at me,” I demanded, staring him dead in the eye. “We have to get help.”

I grasped at the first thought that came to mind. Headmistress Verla’s house was right on the edge of the cemetery. She was an Alchemist, one of the best in all the coven. At the very least, she’d be able to whip up something for the pain and stop the bleeding before the paramedics arrived.

I glanced in the direction of her house, though I couldn’t see it from here. I quickly calculated how long it might take me to run there, get help, and come back. I didn’t know if we had time for that. If Eric was going to make it, I had to get him to Headmistress Verla’s the quickest way possible.

I rolled my jacket up until it resembled a long, thick rope.

“Eric, I’m going to need you to let me look at this,” I said, tugging his hands away from the wound.

I expected him to protest, but he didn’t. He must’ve been in too much shock. His hands fell away from his stomach, and blood poured faster out of the wound. I knew I might regret this later– I was pretty sure it was the exact opposite of what they told you to do in emergencies like this– but it was the only option that made sense to me.

I placed my rolled-up jacket over the wound and shoved the end between his back and the ground, wrapping it around his body. Then I twisted the two ends together and secured them tightly, creating a makeshift bandage to help slow the bleeding.

“Okay, Eric,” I said, resituating myself. “I’m going to need you to–”

Eric looked at me with a blank expression, then his eyes rolled back into his skull.

Shit. Shit. Shit! We didn’t have long.

I gave it everything I had. Taking one of Eric’s limp arms, I wrapped it over my shoulder, then hoisted his body up onto my back. He was heavy, but it didn’t matter. I’d carry him until he crushed me if I had to.

A small groan escaped my brother’s lips as I began to carry him through the forest toward the gate at the front of the cemetery. The sound should’ve made me want to vomit, but it gave me hope. My brother was still alive. I could still save him.

We broke out of the trees to the wide expanse of the graveyard lawn. I nearly stumbled over the nearest gravestone when I spotted a dark cloaked figure staring our way. Was it a Reaper, here to take my brother’s soul to the afterlife? No, that was silly. If it was, I wouldn’t be able to see them.

When the dark figure began making their way toward us, I got the strangest feeling that they were not to be feared– that they were there to help. Was it perhaps the cemetery groundskeeper?

The figure reached me, then spoke before I could. “Lucas Taylor.”

I didn’t know why, but I was surprised to hear a woman’s voice come from under the dark hood. Her voice was so melodic that it sounded like a song.

“Yes,” I said quickly. “My brother. He’s hurt. Can you help?”

The woman nodded once, then softly brushed her hand through the air. A split-second later, I felt the weight of my brother’s body vanish. I whirled around, expecting him to be floating there behind me– I figured this witch was a Mentalist with telekinetic magic– but what I faced was entirely different.

Eric’s features had been stamped into the fog like he was a ghost. Just as I caught a glimpse of ghost-Eric, his image washed away, like a cloud in the wind. Anger and fear coursed through me all at once. I spun on the woman in a flash, my nostrils flaring. 

“What did you do!?” I cried. “What happened to my brother?”

“Relax, Lucas,” she said kindly, like my harsh tone didn’t bother her at all. “Your brother is fine for now.”

For now? I wanted to ask, but she didn’t give me the chance.

“You’ve impressed me,” she said softly.

“I… what?” I asked. The anger had melted from my tone, replaced by confusion. What the hell was going on here? 

She reached up to her hood. “It’s me, child.”

Her velvet hood fell to her shoulders, revealing her face. I’d never seen anyone so beautiful before. Her features were perfectly symmetrical, and her pale skin was so smooth that it looked airbrushed. She had dark eyelashes and red lips, though she wore no makeup. Her dark brown hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders.

My knees buckled beneath me, and I fell to the ground. I hadn’t meant to do it, but I was so shocked I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned forward to bow, because it seemed like the proper thing to do in the sight of a goddess.

“Mother Miriam,” I said breathlessly, my eyes pointed toward the ground. “It’s an honor.”

“Lucas, my child.” She bent to one knee. “There is no need to bow to me.”

“But you’re– you’re…” I looked up to see she was smiling down at me. It was a truly loving gaze– the gaze of a mother. It was stupid of me to think I could argue with her. She reached out and helped me to my feet.

I straightened. “Is this real? Or is it part of my test?”

“It is all real, my child– but only in your mind,” she said. 

It sounded like a riddle, but it was all the confirmation I needed. Eric wasn’t in any danger. He’d only been an illusion.

“What happens now?” I asked our goddess. “What’s my next test?”

She shook her head and smiled. “You only needed one, Lucas.”

“Only one?” I asked breathlessly. Most people went through at least three or more.

“Walk with me,” Mother Miriam said, offering her hand. 

When I took it, the fog around the graveyard dissipated, and a warmth spread over me. The cool wind completely died down, and it felt like a warm spring night. 

“In this test, there were many different choices you could’ve made,” Mother Miriam explained. “Among the coven’s Casts, the Mentalist would’ve made Eric comfortable and gone to find help. The Alchemist would’ve looked through the potions to see if there were any that could help. The Seer would’ve reached for the cards first– though most would never use them in such a dire situation, but whether they use them or not is not the important part.”

“And Mortana?” I asked, looking over to her. The Death Cast.

“Most Mortana would’ve considered the dagger as a means to a merciful death,” she said. “But you, my child, took a route most would not. You carried your brother’s burden on your back. It’s clear where you belong, Lucas.”

“Where?” I asked, not understanding what she was saying. There was only one other Cast she hadn’t mentioned– one that had died out years ago. But I didn’t see how my choices would put me there. Could I be the first Curse Breaker of my generation?

“Where do you want to be put?” she asked.

I contemplated the question. No one had ever told me Mother Miriam offered a choice. I’d never really thought about it before. I always figured it didn’t matter; I’d accept whatever gift she’d give me, because I knew she’d choose the right one for me.

“I will do whatever you ask of me,” I told her honestly. 

I barely noticed that we had returned to the trees near the site of the mausoleum. I was too entranced by being in the presence of a goddess. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

“Anything I ask, Lucas?” she asked.

I nodded. I couldn’t think of anything she could ask that I wouldn’t do. Her teachings were simple. Protect the coven. I’d do anything to protect the ones I loved.

“Anything,” I confirmed confidently.

Mother Miriam led me up the rocks to the entrance of the mausoleum. Nothing had changed since I left.

She stopped and guided me around to stand in front of her. “I’m so glad you feel that way, Lucas. I know you’ll make me proud.”

When she said that, it felt like I was floating in the air again. My parents never said they were proud of me– not even Mom, though I knew she loved me. This was our goddess, the very deity we worshiped, and she thought I could make her proud.

“I’ll do my best,” I promised her. “Which Cast will I be placed in?”

“Shh…” She held an index finger to her lips. “You will find out soon enough. Have faith, my child, for I am always with you.”

She shoved me hard in the chest, and my heart leapt up to my throat. The chill air returned, whipping by me as I tumbled backward. My body slammed hard against the concrete, sending an ache shooting through my body. My skull throbbed from where it impacted with the ground.

“Lucas! Lucas!” I heard Grant’s voice, but it sounded like it was coming from a mile away.

Chloe’s voice came a second later, more clear this time. “Here, let me try.”

A small, cold hand slapped against the side of my face. My cheek stung as I shot upright. Grant was so close that we nearly knocked heads. He quickly jumped out of the way.

“Holy shit!” I cried, cradling my cheek. My friends were inside the burning candle circle now. “That was one helluva swing, Chloe.”

She smiled proudly. “Told you I could wake him.”

“Fuck,” I groaned. “What happened?”

“You were floating there, and then your body just slammed to the ground,” Grant said, sounding worried.

“That’s normal, dipshit,” I said, shoving him. “It signals the end of the ceremony. You didn’t need to get the Wicked Witch of the West here to make me lose feeling in my face.”

I made a show of moving the muscles in my face to test them out. Chloe didn’t look concerned at all. She just beamed at the Wicked Witch comment, like she wore it as a badge of honor.

“So, which Cast were you assigned to?” she asked eagerly.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, turning my hands over for any sign of a mark. “Mother Miriam didn’t say.”

“What was it like meeting her?” Chloe asked. “Was she as beautiful as they say?”

“Slow down,” Grant insisted. “Let’s figure out which Cast he’s in first.”

I stripped off my jacket and tossed it aside, looking up and down my arms. The mark would appear as a tattoo, as if I’d just come fresh from the tattoo shop. I checked the back of my bicep, where Grant’s mark was, but there was nothing there. It could be anywhere. 

Chloe nudged me. “Take your shirt off.”

I sighed and stood, then tugged my shirt over my head. I hoped I didn’t have to strip down all the way to find the mark. It was cold as shit out, and I sure was hell wasn’t giving Chloe a strip tease. She’d enjoy it a little too much.

“There it is!” she cried, pointing to my lower back. Her hand slapped over her mouth, and she stifled a giggle.

“What?” I asked, turning to try to get a good look. “What’s wrong? Why are you laughing?”

“You have a tramp stamp!” Chloe cried, reeling back in uncontrollable laughter.

“Aw, fuck,” I muttered. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

Even Grant had joined in on the laughter. “No, bro. You’re not.”

“Would you just tell me what it is?” I demanded. I hated being the last to know. “I can’t see it.”

“It’s a skull,” Grant said. “Here, let me get a picture.”

He lifted his phone and took a flash photo of my backside.

“Let me see,” I begged, and he handed the phone over.

I half expected him to be lying to me, but Grant sucked at lying. It was there clear as day, a skull mark tattooed along my spine just above my waistline.

“Mortana,” I said breathlessly. I was a Death Warlock. 

I backed up and steadied myself against the rock Chloe had been sitting on earlier. Being Mortana wasn’t inherently a bad thing, but their magic was definitely seen as darker. Death magic was the most touchy of all. When it went wrong, it went wrong. Like, shit hits the fan wrong. Mortana were the kind of witches and warlocks who could reanimate the dead, kill with the touch of their hand, or see how people were going to die. I even knew one who could read the auras of a room and tell if a death had occurred there– and how bad it’d been.

The mark only told me my Cast, not which type of magic I’d inherited within that Cast. It could be days or weeks before I knew my specialty.

“You okay, bro?” Grant asked, rising to his feet and stopping beside me. He held out my shirt and jacket.

“Yeah,” I said, shaking off the sinking feeling in my gut. I put my clothes back on, contemplating what this meant.

I didn’t want to be the kind of guy who had magic everyone feared. But I’d been telling the truth when I told Mother Miriam I’d take whichever Cast she assigned me. Whatever my gift was, it was important to her. 

I straightened. “I’m fine. It’ll be great. Maybe I’m a necromancer. I’ll raise an army of cat skeletons.”

“That’d be badass,” Chloe said.

I barely heard her as another voice cut through the silence. It came as if he was standing next to me, just beside Grant.

“I made a mistake. I don’t want to die.”

Every muscle in my body froze as my brother’s voice invaded my mind. It took me a second to realize he wasn’t here– that he hadn’t just shown up out of the blue and spoken those soul-chilling words for all of us to hear. My friends stared back with a blank expression. They hadn’t heard him.

It hit me so hard and fast that I suddenly became nauseous. 

No! No, no, no… please don’t let this be what I think it is. 

I took off running before I could explain. I tore through the forest to the cemetery, then hurdled over gravestones as I sprinted toward the front gates. Chloe and Grant called from behind me, but I could barely process the sound of my own name.

Please, Mother Miriam, let this be a hallucination or something.

My feet carried me as fast as they could blocks away. My lungs were starting to burn by the time I reached home. I ran up the front steps so fast that I skipped several on my way. The door slammed into the wall when I flung it open and pounded upstairs to my brother’s bedroom. Commotion came from my parents’ room as they were awakened by my loud entrance.

I skidded to a halt in the darkness of my brother’s doorway. My heart race, and it only quickened when I saw that his bed was still empty.

“Lucas, what in the bloody hell is–?” my father started, but I didn’t have time for questions. 

I whirled around in the hall and shoved him out of the way. On any normal day, I wouldn’t get close enough for him to touch me, but right now, I wasn’t scared of him. I was terrified for my brother.

“Where’s Eric?” I asked Mom, who had stumbled out of their bedroom behind my father, looking only half awake.

“He’s not in his room?” she asked.

“No,” I barked. “Something’s wrong.”

Eric should’ve been back by now. He didn’t stay at school– since his professor of Seer Studies suggested it was best if he took the semester off– so he didn’t have anywhere else to go right now.

I checked my bedroom, then ran back downstairs to check the kitchen, living room, and bathroom. Each room was as empty as the last. My parents followed behind me, trying to get an answer out of me, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell them, not until I knew for sure what it meant.

I reached the door to the garage and flung it open. And that was when I knew… 

I hadn’t imagined a damn thing. Those words I’d heard in the mausoleum were real– and they were meant for me.

I stopped dead in my tracks as my blood ran cold. Every inch of my body shook as I took in the sight before me. Dad stumbled in the doorway, catching himself on the door frame.

“My boy!” he cried, his voice wavering in genuine agony. I’d never heard him use that tone before.

“What’s going–?” Mom started, but I quickly cut her off.

“Don’t look!” I spun around as she came closer. I threw my arms out and cradled her face to my chest. She didn’t resist.

While I held my mother and let her tears soak into my jacket, my father rushed into the garage, like he could save Eric. But I already knew he couldn’t. I couldn’t explain it, but I could feel the void in the room. It wasn’t just the gaping hole opening in my chest, either. It was a supernatural force telling me Eric’s life was over. It was part of the gift I knew now with certainty I had.

Only one member of the coven inherited this power per generation. Mother Miriam chose me to carry the burden of the dead– to take their last thoughts to the other side with me when I died. I suddenly realized what a huge mistake I’d made promising her anything. I was now the Reaper’s Apprentice.

And the first thought I’d carry was my brother’s. It was the last thing that went through his head before he killed himself.

Mother Miriam thought I would make her proud.

She was wrong.