The coven joins hands around the potion, and I scan the ring of witches. Ellen. Mom. Lady Ariana and Margaret Lesko and so many more. All people I love, a family bound by magic and generations of history, all working toward the same purpose. “As one,” our high priestess says, the tiniest hint of fear in her voice. We close our eyes, and the Blood Witches at the edge of our circle allow their power to mingle with ours. As Alice’s magic ignites like fire inside me, I’m overcome by the gravity of a moment like this. It’s not just that we’re about to wipe the memories of all the Hunters and
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