“Aunt Esme?” I called again, trying to reach out to her.
She still didn’t acknowledge me, and I glanced around, almost shrieking as Sabine strolled by. But she didn’t seem to notice me, either, considering her eyes were glued to my aunt.
I knew as soon as I saw the psychic witch that this wasn’t a distant memory. Long, angry claw marks raked the left side of Sabine’s face—Lyka’s doing. The immortal shifter had clearly left a mark, ruining the perfect visage Sabine had once crafted. But somehow, the scars lent to her terrifying grin.
She reached forward, and I swore I could see the air move between her and Esme. Sabine inhaled deeply, and the angry claw marks seemed to fade just a touch.
Holy s**t, I realized. She’s feeding off of Esme’s fear!
“Leave her alone!” I shouted, but neither
