Patrick looked up as his eye began to heal and snarled. Samantha strode across the grass, one hand held out in front of her and the other grasping the broken end of what used to be a wooden spoon.

  As the witch raised her makeshift stake, Holly rushed out of the cottage, screaming, “Samantha! Stop!”

  But the older witch wasn’t listening. She had a chance, and she was taking it.

  Patrick threw himself onto Jin and scrambled for the ring as Holly collided with Samantha. She knocked the witch over, breaking her spell.

  Jin’s strength returned, and he pushed against Patrick’s hold. Slipping out of the older vampire’s grasp, he took one look at the two witches and fled into the bush.

  Samantha roared, pushing to her feet. “You stupid girl!” she shrieked. “I should’ve opened you up the first night you got here!”

  “No, you’re the stupid one!” Holly shouted back. “We had a chance to save him, but you’re always looking for the easy way out! You can’t solve everything with murder!”

  “You have no idea! None whatsoever!”

  “If I wasn’t here, you would’ve been killed in Hazel’s creepy ritual! You owe me!”

  “If you—” The words died in Samantha’s throat, but it didn’t stop her face from turning crimson.

  “Stop it, both of you,” Patrick said, wiping at his eyes. “We need to work together, and right now, we look more like enemies than allies.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her,” Holly argued. “We’re not a coven, and she’s not the leader. This is a democracy.”

  “Well, for starters, I think we ought to move the democracy inside.”

  Samantha glared at Holly before she stalked up the garden path.

  “Are you all right?” Holly asked, squinting at his eye.

  “I’m fine. It’s already healed.”

  As Holly turned and began walking towards the house, Patrick glanced at the bush. Something didn’t feel right, but the threat seemed to have passed for now. Jin had well and truly retreated, but the whole encounter still felt strange. Had his appearance been a test or simply an unexpected opportunity?

  Either way, they just bought themselves the next move, but he knew they had to make it sooner rather than later…and before Hazel beat them to it.

  CHAPTER 8

  Holly walked into the cottage, struggling to contain her anger.

  Samantha turned as she entered, her finger already poised and wagging at her. “You shouldn’t have gotten in the way! Your stupidity could’ve given Jin the chance he needed to kill me, then we’d all be—”

  “If you two don’t figure out how to get along, we’re toast,” Fiona snapped. “I get that there’s bad blood and all, but what we’re facing out there is worse. I have a vested interest in bringing down Hazel, and I’m not going to let your fighting get in the way.”

  “Then what do you suggest we do?” Patrick asked before Samantha could snap again.

  “Forget about magic lessons and hiding out. That’s a waste of time. What just happened out there made that blindingly obvious. We should be searching for Hazel and banishing her spirit. She’s the problem.”

  “But will banishing her spirit solve the vortex problem?” Holly asked. If she had to, she could learn her magic on the fly. Hazel wasn’t going to wait for her to pass her witchy exams, so they had to risk on-the-job training…high stakes and all.

  “No, it won’t,” Samantha told her. “Her death created it, but it’s not tied to her spirit.”

  “It’s probably attached itself to the anomaly,” Fiona added. “But that’s besides the point. I haven’t seen any other spirits out there causing problems, have you?”

  Samantha snorted. “Not yet.”

  “Hazel’s spirit isn’t tagging along inside Jin anymore,” Holly added. “I felt it when he came at me.”

  “Then we have to find out where she’s gone,” Patrick said. “She’s likely jumped into another body, probably a witch.”

  “The coven left Dunloe,” Samantha reminded him. “There aren’t any left besides us three.”

  Holly glanced at the bookshelf, trying not to let her gaze move to the floorboard where her grimoire was hidden. She still didn’t want Samantha to get her hands on it. “Is there a spell we could do?”

  “Perhaps, but it would be risky,” Samantha replied. “She’ll be expecting it.”

  Patrick raised his hand. “I can track Jin.”

  “Tracking him might lead us to Hazel, but we have to rescue him at some point,” Holly reminded them, eyeballing Samantha.

  “She’ll be expecting that, too.”

  “Is there anything she won’t be expecting?” Fiona snapped at the older witch. “You’re not helping, you’re hindering.”

  “Hazel was only able to sacrifice two Trine members,” Holly said before things got out of hand again. “That means she’s still tethered to the vortex, which means it has a limit. The leash lengthened, but it didn’t break.”

  “Yeah, but how far?” Patrick wondered. “There’s no way of knowing for sure, which is why tracking Jin is our best bet. It carries the least risk and the most benefit—Hazel’s location and the possibility of freeing Jin from her control.”

  “Patrick and I will go,” Samantha declared.

  “Uh, why you?” Fiona asked. “You’re the one thing she wants the most.”

  “I’d rather be on the move,” the witch said. “Jin might not be able to get in, but I don’t trust that Hazel won’t.”

  “Unless you leave Dunloe,” the younger witch reminded her. “If you’re out of her reach—”

  “She’ll use magic or use her vampire to compel the entire police force to find me,” Samantha hissed. “It doesn’t matter how I die, only that I do. I won’t run, and I definitely won’t hide. I’m needed here.”

  Holly sat on the couch, exhaustion creeping up on her. Maybe it was the magic she’d used to stop Jin, or maybe it was the arguing, or even the marks Hazel’s anchors had left on her soul, she didn’t know.

  Probably all three.

  Glancing at the floorboard again, she wondered what Aunt Hannah would do. She’d slap Samantha Dunne for starters, then take charge with logic.

  Okay… Logic.

  They were all Burke witches—her, Hannah, and Hazel—and that meant they were connected. The Burke’s Legacy was affiliated with the fifth element of spirit. Hazel was a spirit.

  Holly rolled her eyes but paused as she remembered something both Jin and Patrick had told her about the Burke bloodline—it carried the memory of every witch who was ever part of it.

  Hazel was technically dead, so that meant there was a possibility Holly could step right into her memories, including present ones. If she’d learned one thing from her grimoire, it was that magic was full of loopholes and contradictions. She’d be fighting against the pull of the anomaly, which Hazel was still channeling, but a glimpse was all she’d need to find her.

  Samantha picked up her designer handbag and clutched it like a shield. “We should begin at the police station,” she told Patrick. “Law enforcement will still be an advantage.”

  “Wait.” Holly snapped her fingers. “Everyone’s been telling me the Burke bloodline carries memory, so why don’t we use that?”

  “The memory of those who have passed,” Samantha said. She was about to dismiss Holly’s idea simply because it was hers, but hesitated as she realised the logic in it. Her lips pursed. “Maybe the idea has some merit.”

  “Oh, come on.” Holly sighed. “It’s more than some.”

  Fiona nodded her agreement. “It’s a solid theory. It might just work.”

  “We don’t have time to wait for a theory to work out,” Patrick reminded them. “We should divide our energy.”

  “The vampire’s right,” Fiona went on, “but so is Holly. I can help Holly while you two go off on your stakeout.”

  “Let’s be on our way then,” Samantha declared. “The sooner we find her, the sooner we can all move on.”

  Patrick shrugged and turned to Holly. “Call me if you have any trouble.”

  “Sure,” Holly said with a nod. “One hundred percent calling you over her any day.”

  The front door closed behind them.

  “Strange how the pressure lifts once she’s gone,” Fiona said with a smirk. “Samantha doesn’t deal well with taking orders, huh?”

  “I guess she was born and bred to lead with an iron fist,” Holly replied, watching the BMW disappear down the driveway. “It’s hard to change an entire way of thinking at her age, I suppose.” The coven’s doctrine had been drilled into her so hard, it was probably a miracle she could even stand in the same room as a Burke and not feel tempted—Holly’s Legacy was like dangling a carrot in front of a donkey. “I’d like to think the best of Samantha, but it’s only been a few days.”

  “At least we all want the same thing.”

  “For now.” Holly grimaced. “So…tapping into Hazel’s memories. How does that work, exactly?” She sat on the couch and shrugged. “I get the logic, but it’s still so abstract.”

  “It’s like meditation,” Fiona told her. “Sit, clear your mind, and pour your will into your Legacy.”

  “You guys always make it sound so easy.”

  “Because it is. Legacy is part of us, Holly. It just…is. There is no step-by-step guide. You keep getting in your own head and overthinking. Don’t, because you’ve been doing awesome so far.”

  Holly sighed. “Yeah, I get it. It’s all intuition.” She closed her eyes and placed her hands on her knees.

  When she’d accessed Patrick’s memories, she’d been holding on to his head to get a direct line to his brain. To log into a ghost’s GPS beacon, she’d need a different access point.

  “Hey,” she opened her eyes, “is this the kind of spell that needs blood?”

  Fiona raised her eyebrows. “Huh?”

  “To access the bloodline?”

  “No,” she chuckled, “it’s not that black and white. Your Legacy is enough.”

  “All right…” Holly closed her eyes again, staving off a flush of embarrassment. There are no stupid questions, she thought. Not when you’re a witch. It’s all fair game.

  She took a deep breath and pushed away her thoughts. Remembering some of the things Jin had told her about her ancestor, and the photograph of Hazel in the Dunloe museum, Holly focused on those.

  Where are you? Her Legacy rose, shining golden in her mind’s eye. Where are you, Hazel Burke? Show me who you’re possessing.

  Her vision filled with ghostly images, but none of them made sense. It was as if she was staring at the sun through closed lids, the light shining pinkish-red through her flesh. Then she had to flex her fingers as pins and needles prickled through her hands.

  “Nothing’s happening.” She screwed up her face as she tried again. “It’s like there’s interference. Static, if that makes sense.” She shivered and blew a raspberry. “I feel all fuzzy.”

  “Something’s blocking you.”

  Holly’s shoulders sagged. Way to state the obvious.

  Hazel had probably anticipated this and had put barriers up to block her access. It was a flattering thought that her pain in the backside ancestor assumed she’d be skilled enough to tap into their bloodline.

  “It’s probably the vortex,” Fiona went on. “I thought that might happen.”

  “So, we’re stuffed?”

  “Not necessarily… There’s always a workaround, but sometimes they can be more trouble than they’re worth, which is another witchcraft lesson for you. Sometimes letting go is the better path, otherwise you could get sucked into something you can’t get out of. Just look at what it did to the Trine.”

  Letting go wasn’t going to help them right now. The only other fix Holly could think of was finding the place Hazel died, otherwise known as the centre of the vortex, and try again. Dive into the ‘eye of the storm’, so to speak.

  “Do you think…” She glanced at Fiona.

  “That’d be a pain in the arse.” Apparently, the witch had anticipated her wavelength.

  Holly got up and hurried into the hall.

  “Where are you going?” Fiona cried, scurrying after her.

  Opening the front door, Holly stepped out onto the verandah, her gaze falling to the diggings.

  The whole swath of bushland was shrouded in darkness, the shadows pooling like black ink around it. She felt more aware of the pull inside the churned earth now that she realised what lay just beyond human eyes. It was more than gold laden quartz, and even more than the vortex itself. The diggings represented a supernatural electrical socket.

  “Connecting with the vortex would open myself up to the anomaly and Hazel,” she murmured. “Wouldn’t it?”

  “Yep,” Fiona said beside her. “One hundred percent. It’d have to be a smash and grab…provided we could get there without being ambushed by all those spirits.”

  “One problem,” Holly said with a groan. “Where is there? We’d need the exact spot in the diggings where the 1850s Trine killed her, right?”

  “Yeah. Patrick might know, and dare I say, Samantha. Maybe her creepy coven kept a record of all their you-know-what’s in their grimoire.”

  Shivering at the thought, she looked down at her feet, then to the garden. The whole thing was giving her the creeps, talking about life and death—well, mostly death. It all felt like a mystery that wasn’t meant for the living until it was their time to step into it.

  “Well, if we have to go out there, I’m not doing it in the dark,” Holly stated.

  “I’d hope not,” an unknown voice echoed across the garden. “I wouldn’t like seeing the last Burke witch get sucked into that vortex.”

  The two witches turned towards the garden as a woman walked towards them, her translucent form shimmering in and out of reality. One second, parts of her were nothing but white mist, then the next, she was solid…but she was definitely an apparition. She had to be because the moment Holly’s eyes slapped onto her, she cried out in shock.

  “Aunt Hannah?”

  “If you don’t mind, could you take a step to the right? I died right there, you know.”

  Holly rushed forwards, leaping off the verandah and hurrying down the path. She was about to throw her arms around her aunt but stopped at the last moment. Hannah was a ghost, which meant she wasn’t really there in the physical sense, and it’d be embarrassing to somersault right through her.

  “How are you here? Shouldn’t you be somewhere enjoying eternal peace?”

  “With the shit hitting the fan like it is around here?” Hannah snorted. “Unlikely.” She smiled and looked over the two witches. “Fiona O’Riley… Fancy meeting you here.”

  “Fancy, indeed,” she replied. “It’s not every day you get to speak to a ghost.”

  “As much as I would like to chat with both of you, we don’t have much time. Let’s cut to the chase, huh?”

  Holly’s heart leapt. “Why?”

  “I don’t have access to the anomaly like Hazel does,” Hannah explained. “I can’t manifest for long without it, let alone possess or interact with things. I need to gather enough energy and with that vortex spinning like it is, it’s making it difficult.”

  “Why didn’t you come before?”

  “Hazel’s ritual,” Hannah told her. “It’s opened a door, not just for the spirits in the diggings, but those around the fringes. Not everyone has woken up to it though, but once they do, Dunloe is going to have a severe uptick in hauntings.”

  Holly swallowed hard. “But Hazel still has control of the anomaly…”

  “Oh, shit.” Fiona made a face. “She could control those spirits, right? It’s her vortex…her death created it.”

  Hannah snorted. “Now you understand the fan reference.”

  “Uh, yeah,” Holly said, her stomach churning. “It’s about to splatter, I’d say.”

  “Has Samantha been teaching you like I asked?”

  Holly blinked. “You saw Samantha? When?”

  “The other night. Scared the you-know-what out of her. It was quite cathartic, considering the bitch murdered me.”

  “Well, we don’t have time for magic lessons, and I especially don’t like teaming up with her,” Holly replied. “But if it’s as bad as you say, then we have to do something about it now.”

  “Do you know where Hazel went?” Fiona asked. “We know she jumped out of Jin, but into who, we have no idea.”

  “I don’t know.” Hannah shook her ghostly head. “But wherever Jin is, she won’t be far away.”

  “So, the plan remains the same for now,” Holly murmured. “Track Jin, hope he leads us to Hazel, then free him. When we have Hazel cornered, we banish her.” She looked at her aunt. “But will that solve the vortex problem?”

  “The ritual will still be active without Hazel,” Hannah explained. “It has to play out. It’s the only way for the vortex to dissipate.”

  “Samantha has to die?” Holly glanced at Fiona, her nerves fraying. It wasn’t part of the plan, and especially not the one Samantha had presented.

  “She will at some point,” Hannah told them. “Witches are mortal.”

  Holly’s mind churned as if her thoughts were jagged bits of debris inside a massive tornado. Every time something new went around, it pierced her brain and made her incoming headache throb.

  If they banished Hazel’s spirit, she would be forced to cross over and leave the mortal world behind. That solved one problem, but it still left the vortex in play. The door was ajar, and sooner or later, other spirits would come through—tormented and corrupted spirits that’d spent hundreds of years stewing in the magic of an unknown supernatural anomaly.

  “Bloody hell,” Holly moaned, running her hands over her face, “we’re screwed.”

  “No matter how much we all despise Samantha, I don’t think killing her is the right thing to do here,” Fiona muttered.

  “You’d be setting an army of corrupt ghosts free,” Hannah reminded them. “Banishing all of them at once would take a great deal of magic.”