Book 2: Where's the Witch?

Emory

“Willow is a witch,” Lola says like she’s not talking about the impossible. I remember what Willow told me about her life before she was turned, but it’s hard for me to grasp. In my mind, witches aren’t real. No one has seen one in centuries. Growing up, I thought they were a fairy tale to make humans afraid to go into the woods at night–sort of like the hybrid stories I’ve read recently.

I tell myself that what Lola said can’t be the truth, but I have also just seen Lola floating in the air with no other possible explanation. That had to be magic. It isn’t something that can be easily explained away. I’m not the only one who saw it happen either.

Willow’s blue gaze is filled with terror. She is still looking around like she’s not sure what to do. I have known that kind of fear before. When I first arrived at Castle Graystone to be a feeder, I felt trapped and helpless in a place where I had no allies.

Willow turns to leave, but wordles