Vivi shivered at the word magic. Less than an hour ago, she would’ve scoffed at the notion. But she couldn’t think of a better term to describe what she’d just witnessed, the power she’d felt unfurling inside her.
Could she really be a witch? The thought was at once so intoxicating and so alarming, she couldn’t keep herself from blurting out a question. “Does anyone outside of Kappa know what you . . . I mean, what we are?” she asked, thinking about her mother. Her heart thudded loudly. Did this mean Daphne was also a witch?
“Definitely not,” Mei said with a shake of her head. “Not unless they were Ravens too.”
“But during the rush party, you had lots of non-Kappas here . . . Isn’t that sort of risky?” Vivi asked. She could almost feel magic crackling in the air, a hint of electricity like in the moments before a thunderstorm. She wondered why she’d never felt anything like it before. “What if someone notices something strange?”
Dahlia spoke up again. “Witches have been hiding in plain sight for centuries—the Ravens are just one of many covens around the country. But most people are incapable of opening their eyes to the truth. The more we act like a regular sorority with nothing to hide, the more likely we are to be left alone. That’s why we became a sorority in the first place—it was the perfect cover for a coven.” She looked around at the new members. “Performing magic isn’t easy, and if you’re not extremely careful, it can be quite dangerous. That’s why each of you will be assigned a Big Sister, just like at other sororities. Except that your Big’s responsibilities extend beyond ensuring that you wear the right shade of teal to spirit week. She’ll tutor you in magic and make sure that you don’t blow yourself—or Westerly—up.” Dahlia paused while the girls snickered. “Sonali.” The girl looked up and nodded. “Your Big is Mei.”
Mei stood and smiled warmly, motioning for Sonali to stand next to her.
Dahlia continued with the pairings until she reached Vivi. “Vivi, your Big is Scarlett.”
Vivi’s heart sank. Of course Scarlett, the only girl who didn’t seem to like her, was her Big. For the first time since she’d walked into the room, Scarlett met Vivi’s gaze. The other girl’s tight smile didn’t reach her eyes.
But before either of them could say a word, a loud bang sounded at the front door.
Chapter Ten
Scarlett
All chatter ceased and everyone turned toward the front door. Dahlia, a frown marring her pretty face, caught Scarlett’s eye. “Send whoever it is away. Closed ranks tonight.”
Scarlett nodded once, annoyed at missing her chance to savor Vivi’s visible terror at being named Scarlett’s Little. Just like the magic chose the sisters, it also chose the Big-Little pairings. The cards had their own sense of poetic justice; it would now be Scarlett’s sanctioned right to torture Vivi as her Little.
She flashed an ashen Vivi a smile and headed for the main entrance. They’d dimmed the hall lights and lit hurricane candles to add a certain mystique to the house for the pledges’ first night here. Scarlett trailed her fingertips along one wall while her eyes adjusted to the gloom, the sounds from the living room falling away to a muted hush. The candles cast flickering shadows against the walls, the shapes reminding her of a metal candle carousel Minnie had given her for her eighth birthday. It had delicate gold stars and moons that rotated slowly around a lit tea candle, a little bit of magic before Scarlett could fully wield her own.
Bang.
The knocker sounded again, louder this time. Before Scarlett could call out that she was coming, the knob began to twist. Then the door swung open and slammed against the wall. A wild, unnatural wind whipped into the hallway, extinguishing all but two of the candles.
Scarlett gasped.
A girl stood in the entryway. Her eyes were hard and black. Her hair hung loose and flowing to her waist, but it was snarled and tangled. She wore ratty black jeans and a baggy black hoodie that looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks. On her left hand, she had five silver rings, one on each finger: A skull. A serpent. A pentacle. A rose. And a sword. Her other hand was raised in a fist, as if she’d just punched the door open. Her mouth was twisted in an angry grimace.
It was someone Scarlett had never expected to see again. But it wasn’t Harper, the girl who’d been haunting her dreams. It was Harper’s best friend.
Gwen.
For a second Scarlett wondered if this was a nightmare. Scarlett hadn’t seen Gwen since that long-ago night. Gwen had been hooked up to life support, her body battered and bruised, machines breathing for her and keeping her alive. When she was finally released from the hospital, she’d dropped out of school and gone home to Nashville. No one had heard from her since. She was never supposed to come back.
Scarlett forced herself to inhale. Then exhale. Breathe.
“Holy shit, Gwen,” Scarlett managed to say when she found her voice again. “What are you doing here?”
Gwen just stared at her, the fire from the remaining candles flickering in her dark eyes.
“Answer me,” Scarlett said.
Gwen stayed silent, breathing heavily, as if it cost her something just to stand there.
“You can’t be here. You need to leave,” Scarlett said. Scarlett took a step back. Then another. She heard voices. Then a gasp, then footsteps. She turned to see Tiffany flying up the hall toward her. Behind her, a handful of the older Ravens—Etta, Hazel, and Jess—had gathered, all peering at the front door curiously.
Tiffany stepped up next to Scarlett and said, her voice steely, “What are you doing here?”
“Say something, Gwen,” Scarlett said, emboldened by her sisters’ presence.
Gwen opened her mouth as if to speak . . . and began to choke. It was a horrible guttural gagging sound deep in her throat. She clutched at her neck, then fell to her knees, gasping for breath.
Shit.
“Oh my God!” Jess cried.
“We need to call 911. Sh-she’s choking,” Scarlett stammered, rushing forward to help Gwen. The girl’s face was turning red; spittle was flying from her open mouth, and her hands clawed at the ground.
“She’s not,” came a cool voice. Dahlia pushed through the crowd. “It’s the magic.”
“What?” Scarlett asked.
“Girls, join hands,” Dahlia commanded, gesturing for everyone to join her on the front steps of the house.
Scarlett joined hands with Tiffany and Jess, completing the circle with her sisters. Usually being hand in hand with the coven was when she felt most powerful, most whole. But now, as she watched Gwen writhe and gasp, her face contorting painfully, Scarlett didn’t feel powerful. She felt . . . scared. Scared of the ugly side of their power. Scared of what it had wrought.
“Scar, focus,” Dahlia ordered as if she could sense Scarlett’s hesitance. As Scarlett exhaled her panic, Dahlia began to whisper a spell. Scarlett let her magic flow into her sisters, their powers merging as the spell found its target.
Gwen’s rasping stopped, like a TV switching off. The angry light in her eyes was snuffed out. Her shoulders slumped, like a marionette with her strings cut. The anger was gone, but it was as if Gwen had disappeared with it. The fire had drained from her eyes, leaving in its place a dull, vacant stare.