P. Stormcrow

To their surprise, the house was far from empty when they arrived. In fact, several cars bunched up in the driveway, none of which they recognized. For a moment, Finn wondered if the lock down had ended somehow and the director had sent more agents, but one glance at Jackson’s expression dashed all hope of that being the case.

They didn’t even make it up to the porch stairs before the doors flung wide open.

A woman darted out with a tear-streaked face, white hair in disarray, eyes red and puffy. “You! You drove my son to this!” She shook her fist at them, stalking towards them in a long flowery skirt.

Two younger ones followed at her heels, one taking hold of the hysterical mother by the shoulders. “Edith.”

“We really do need to stop meeting like this, agents.”

They all parted to allow another to emerge, graceful and calm, with more figures crowding in the doorway behind her. Amongst the group ranging from business chic to soccer mom, she moved as though she was queen.

Mrs. Dawson? Of course, it was her. Finn recalled how she took charge as she and her daughter drifted into the aftermath of their battle to put the spirits of the two students to rest. And judging by how everyone looked to her, she occupied a position of power. Was this a coven, then? And was she their leader?

Jackson grinned and dipped his head in acknowledgement. “It is nice to see a familiar face though.”

“Constance!” Sunny’s mother protested, but the other woman just held up her hand, cutting her off.

Mrs. Dawson’s identity shifted in Finn’s mind from the suburban mom of the goth teenager to Constance Dawson, coven leader.

“Why don’t you come in?” Constance shot Edith a look and her next words carried a certain edge. “I’m sure we can get to the bottom of all this together.”

Hesitation warred within Finn and that more than convinced her to take the first step. She wasn’t confident that trusting them was the right move and that thought along propelled her into the house with her partner at her heels.

She counted six women in total with the notable absence of Lacey. Seven for a secret never to be told. The old nursery rhyme persisted in her head as they followed in silence until they settled around the round kitchen table, wood scarred by time.

“Now, what can we do for you, Agents?”

Constance may have addressed both of them, sitting across all prim and proper, but her eyes bored into Finn’s, as if to remind her she owed her for tying up a loose end.

Fuck that.

“We’re looking for Sunny McDaniels. We spoke with him earlier today.” His straightforwardness with them surprised her.

Beside Constance, Edith whimpered but clenched her fists on the table as if it would help prevent her from another outburst.

“First Lacey, now Sunny. You understand that both are due certain protections as part of this coven?”

Finn bit her tongue as she recognized they needed Jackson’s diplomacy and relief shot through her as he seemed back to his old self. But it wasn’t enough to relax the tight knot building between her shoulders.

“Of course.” He leaned forward and swept his gaze toward the rest of the women hovering close, lingering on Edith before returning to Constance. With a heavy sigh, he slumped back. “We suspect Sunny has been tampering with merging magic with technology.”

A round of gasps met his announcement, but what was more interesting was the way Edith paled with no sign of surprise.

“That is a serious accusation, Agent Jackson.” Constance steepled her long fingers.

“If you are asking for proof, the information is classified. But I can assure you we did our due diligence, like with all our other cases.”

Like how we never accused your daughter even if she was a suspect at one point. Finn wondered if the rest of the coven knew what had happened with Emily.

“Hmm. I see.” Constance didn’t reply with more than that, and tension thickened the air as she deliberated while the world awaited her next move. There was some sort of political context Finn was missing here. Did coven leadership act as a local authority that they had to work with? What was the protocol for this situation?

She needed to do more reading, as much as she loathed to admit. Maybe Olivia could help with that after they wrap this up.

“Edith?” Constance turned at last away from them to her fellow witch.

In return, Edith pulled off her glasses and rubbed her eyes with a hard swipe. Constance’s face softened, and she patted the older woman’s arm. “You know, when our young ones stray, we need to step in with a firm hand. They are our responsibility and so are their actions. It doesn’t mean we did wrong ourselves, but if we let it go on, then we are doing more harm than good.”

The reminder seemed to have flipped a switch. Edith straightened in her chair and cleared her throat. “When I came home, Sunny had already packed up and left. No note, but his bags and his computers were gone.” She shook her head, and her shoulders fell. “And before you asked, I’ve checked. He had wiped everything down. He’s smart enough to know he can’t leave even a single strand of hair if he doesn’t want to be found.”

Another dead end. Finn stifled a groan of frustration. No. She needed to keep her mind clear, think like…

Her old job.

There was always a footprint.

“We’re pretty sure Sunny cast something on us earlier. Can we use that somehow?” Finn spoke slowly, the words foreign on her tongue still.

Edith and Constance exchanged a look before the coven leader gave her subordinate a slight nod. Edith faced them again. “What will happen to Sunny if you find him?”

It was a good question. Finn held her breath as she waited for Jackson to answer.

He let out a heavy sigh and pushed his hair back. “Since it’s his first strike, I can let him off with a warning if he shows he understands what he has done and the consequences of any repeated offense.”

“All right.” Edith rose from her seat, hands pressed against the table. “I know my son’s magic well enough for this. Follow me.”

“Ladies, if you can get our circle prepared?”

Constance’s question set the rest of the coven into a flurry of activity. Some began gathering things from cupboards, while others streamed out of the room. Finn watched in amazement as everyone seemed to know exactly what to do despite it being Edith’s home, but the older woman appeared unperturbed.

“Follow me.” Edith had transformed before them, taking command of the situation as she led them through the house to a room in the back.

Finn was not prepared for the sight that greeted her and let out a whoosh of air. Gold from the setting sun spilled from the large bay windows, bathing the worn wooden floors in red and orange hues. The subtle scent of sage permeated the sparsely decorated space. In one corner, she spied a stone statue of a bare chested woman holding a globe over her stomach.

“This way, Agent Reed.” Constance’s voice was gentle, hushed, reminding her a little of when she had laid the ghosts to rest though she couldn’t recall the details.

Jackson stood in the middle of the room, waiting for her while the rest of the coven filed in and formed a circle around him. Constance led Finn to Jackson and waved. “Please. Have a seat, back to back.”

She complied, but felt the tension in her partner as soon as they leaned back against each other.

“You good?” Jackson didn’t face her, but she knew he was directing the question at her.

“Yeah.” A pause. “You?”

“Nose itches.”

Poor guy.

“Hush now,” Constance warned as Edith and she took their own positions.

Together, the women hummed, the vibrations making Finn’s skin tingle. She closed her eyes as the sounds washed over her as she warmed, the heat growing, at first with pleasant warmth until it reached just below burning. The sensation turned itchy, and she resisted the urge to scratch, compelled to stay still though no one had cautioned her to do so. Behind her, Jackson only became more rigid in his posture even as the voices grew louder, chanting in a language that she guessed may have been some form of Latin.

“Now, Edith!”

Constance’s command rang through the air. Finn’s eyes snapped open and her vision blurred, but through the haze, she thought she saw threads of copper cocooning them. Before she could be sure they were there though, Edith kneeled in front of her and hooked her two forefingers under two strands, lifting them and their peers away as if she was handling a delicate piece of silk.

“Easy there,” she whispered to herself as the chanting subsided to hushed whispers.

Meanwhile, the heat faded and Finn dared to cast a glance back at Jackson to make sure he was still okay, too. She couldn’t quite see him, but his shoulders relaxed, and he gave enough of a nod for her to feel it despite him not being in her line of sight.

Assured by this, she watched the women once more while Edith eased the now invisible threads into a bowl. The chanting faded while her voice rose as she sprinkled powders and herbs. Finn thought she caught the names Hera and Hestia but wasn’t certain as Edith spoke faster and faster until smoke bursted upwards and dissipated in a puff.

Silence reigned. Finn fidgeted and gave into the urge to scratch, though the itch had disappeared along with the threads of magic. Because that was the only words she could use to describe what happened. Could she ask Constance later? Jackson? Olivia?

She was so out of her depth.

Edith let out a sigh, the lines of grief reappearing on her face, this time coupled with a deep weariness. “He hasn’t left town yet, but it won’t be easy getting to where he is. You have less than an hour of daylight remaining. I’ll write down his location for you.”

Jackson rose first, unfolding his long legs with grace Finn couldn’t help but envy. He crossed the room to stand before Edith and bowed his head. “I know this has been so difficult. Thank you.”

She gave him a weak smile. “Just bring my son home.”