The wraith screams and I'm thrown into the kitchen wall. My head is whirling. I can't stand up. Each time I try, my legs buckle.I blink. The image in front of me doesn't make sense.My aunt is suspended in the air between me and the wraith. She makes gurgling sounds."No," I cry, struggling to get

I don't know how long I sit on the sidewalk, sulking, but I scrub a hand down my face. The wraith won't care that I'm heartbroken or how I can't get Ben and Kiarr back. Or that I am missing Jacques's French accent and his kiss. How I was wrong to let my fear and prejudice come between us. I push to

"I'm going to savor draining you dry," my uncle practically purrs.I shudder with revulsion, but I can't fight back. I've tried. My wand did nothing. Unleashing all I could didn't even faze him. He's a damn wraith. Nothing I've found or studied has prepared me for defeating him.Even my parents and

I struggle to lift my hand because I want to slap my uncle, this wraith. He is the cause of so much heartache and misery in my life. And I can't let him win.I ball up my fists, my nails digging half-moons into my palms. In my mind, I picture Aunt Grace, my mom and dad. How the grief and sorrow of s

"Brene," Jezza tugs at my sleeve. "Y-you can't stay out here all night. The vamps and werewolves will be hunting soon and you're bleeding. I mean I know neither of them are supposed to go after humans or us witches, but you're not safe here."No. I'm not safe here or anywhere. My hands hurt and I si