The Witch Collector Part II Read Online Free

what she said?”
    She nodded, conceding my point. “Well, Seralina did visit Evie,” I said. “So there’s somewhat of a connection between the three.”
    Shelley tugged on one unruly curl, winding it around her finger again and again. At first I assumed she was trying to fit everything together, but when she wouldn’t look at me, I knew something was bothering her. “What?” I said.
    She finally looked at me again, her features pinched. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but there is a connection between the three of them; we can’t ignore Evie’s possible involvement. Your parents kind of showed up out of the blue—what if she’s not cool with that? And what if there’s more to her story? There could be things she’s not telling you.” She swallowed. “She didn’t destroy the demon, Breeda. She’s walking him around like a pet. You’ve got to think about that.”
    “I know,” I said, the feeling of dread inside me settling further into my bones. “You’re right.” I rested my head against Shelley’s shoulder, grateful to have a friend.
    “What are you going to do if Brandon contacts you again?” she asked, her voice as soft as the evening air. “I don’t like the idea of you meeting up with him alone. You have no idea what he’s capable of, and he’s able to control his magic—you’re not. You’ll let us know before you decide to see him, right?”
    “I’ll figure something out,” I said, knowing it really wasn’t an answer. I hadn’t told her I had already heard from him, and I didn’t want to. I wasn’t naive enough to think I had a chance against a fully transitioned witch—or two, if Gavin and Brandon were together—but if Evie was right, and Gavin wanted me alive, maybe I could use that to my advantage somehow if I was alone. If Brandon had come to protect me, then it would be two of us against one. I didn’t have to involve Dobra’s coven at all.
    Shelley grew very quiet. The wind shifted, bringing a chill.
    “Let’s go back,” I suggested. I stood and offered her my hand.
    She ignored it. “You don’t want my help, do you?”
    “That’s not it.”
    Shelley hugged her knees to her chest, and half of her body disappeared into the fabric of her skirt. “What did Dobra tell you about my family?” she asked quietly.
    “Not a thing.”
    She watched my face, trying to catch a lie. “I suppose that’s not his style,” she finally said.
    “You’ve spent the past two days dealing with me,” I replied. “I can listen, if you want. You asked me not to judge before—and I wouldn’t do that, especially now. I’m learning that sometimes people have unusual reasons for doing what they do.”
    Shelley closed her eyes, pressing her fists hard against them. When she dropped her hands, her expression was businesslike and determined. “Okay,” she said. “I guess I do want to talk about it, but no judging.”
    I smiled at her. “Not even a little bit.”
    She took a breath and began. “My father was much older than my mother. He had some money saved, so right after their binding ceremony, they opened Belladonna’s. It was an inside joke, a play on my mom’s name. We always made enough money to keep the restaurant going, but not much more. They were happy, though, so I was happy. Our coven on the North Side was loving and tight knit. I’d known all my friends practically since birth. It was a good feeling, you know?”
    I did know. It was safe. Gavin might not have been a warm person, but I always felt sheltered in his coven . . . until my parents spirited me halfway across the country. Even if my whole life was a lie, it didn’t change how I felt at the time.
    I nodded for her to go on.
    “Both my parents are Italian, from the North, near Milan,” she continued. “I have fire on both sides, both lines. My father’s family is ancient, going back to Roman times. Witches are all so closely tied to our blood and our natures that our gift becomes part