Witchy Sour(87)

A thousand questions entered my mind, but I refrained from asking any of them.

“Before he died, he made me promise to carry on in his footsteps.” Hettie’s wild personality had softened into the frame of a tired, elderly woman. “I may appear old, I may look frail, and I may dress like a popstar because I’m glamorous. But glamorous old ladies can still be badass, Lily.”

“If this is all so secretive, then why are you telling me about it?” I wanted to hear more about my grandfather, but now was not the time. Those stories would have to come later.

“Because we need you to join The Core,” Hettie said. “Without you, we are nothing. Please consider it. The risks are high, and the cost severe. If I could give you a way out, I would. The truth is that we need you, and your grandfather would agree.”

I looked to Gus, but he raised his eyebrows in question, also waiting for my response.

“Whatever you need,” I said. “Of course.”

Hettie stood up, straightened the tiara that’d slipped off of her gray hair, and hiked up the rhinestone-studded sweater around her shoulders. “Good,” she said. “Then let’s get started. I have a target on my head, and I want it off.”

I blanched. “What sort of target?”

“A target to the tune of ten million coins,” Hettie said without flinching. “Someone from within The Faction is silencing the leading voices of the resistance one by one. Apparently, I’m up next on the black list. Let’s put an end to this, shall we?”





The End