Page 31 of Hallows End

From the moment I met him, I knew that Xander was a powerful witch, perhaps more so than anyone I’ve ever come across before.

I hope I can pick his brain.

“That makes two of us,” I reply and set my books on the table.

“I found mention of the curse of the blood moon,” he says and holds up his hand. A few seconds later, a book floats across the room from a bookcase and lands in his outstretched palm.

I simply blink.

“This is my seven-times-great-grandmother’s Book of Shadows,” he says and gently opens the front cover.

One I recognize.

“I’ve studied it before, but it has been more than a decade. And at that time, the curse wasn’t something I was looking for.”

“Of course. May I ask her name?”

“My seven-times-great-grandmother?”

“Yes.”

“Katrina Harwood.”

I still. “Are you certain?”

Xander frowns and raises an eyebrow. “Of course, I’m certain. Did you know her?”

I stand and walk to the wall of windows that look out onto Chestnut Street.

“Her home was on this property,” I say quietly. “The street looked much different then, with small cabins and dirt roads for the carriages, but Katrina lived here.”

“I know,” Xander says behind me. “How did you know her?”

“She was my sister.” I turn back to him and take a deep breath. “I’d heard that she moved to New York with her husband, Thomas.”

“She did, for a while. They were worried about being persecuted for the Craft and stayed away for about ten years. But when her parents grew older, they came back to Salem with their family.”

“Did they have children?” I ask, hanging on his every word, then realize what I said. “They must have. Because…here you are.”

“Six,” he confirms. “Four died of childhood diseases, but two lived well into old age.”

“And the Craft lived on through her children and grandchildren.”

“Yes,” he confirms. “Jonas, there is no mention of youanywhere.”

“Of course, not.” And it’s a sharp stab to the heart to be reminded of it. “I told you, any existence of Hallows End and its people were erased from existence.”

For the first time, I see compassion in the other man’s eyes.

“I can feel the love you had for her,” he says.

“She was…one of a kind. So smart. Dedicated. She and Charlotte, my other sister, were extremely gifted in the Craft. Very powerful witches.”

Xander’s eyes light at the mention of Charlotte’s name, as if the more I speak, the more he believes me.

“They were co-leaders of their coven,” he confirms.

“Charlotte went to Philadelphia.”