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moment, she turned back with narrowed eyes. “I know what happened to your mother. Get me out of that frame and I’ll lead you to her.”
    An arrow of pain jabbed at my heart. I kept my voice cool and steady. “Tell me where she is and I’ll consider it.”
    Her lips turned up in a gruesome smile. “I already did. She suffers in Hell.”
    “Liar!” I screamed.
    “See for yourself.” Felicia waved one shriveled arm and the scene suddenly changed.
    I still stood in the middle of the circle, but now thirteen white-robed witches surrounded me. Each held a black candle in both hands while they chanted a protection spell.
    Nobody noticed my presence, and I had the distinct impression I could see them, but they couldn’t see me. My suspicion was confirmed when two silver-robed witches stepped into the middle of the circle. One came dangerously close to walking right through me. I moved—no, floated—off to the side and waited.
    The chanting grew louder. Energy seemed to vibrate through the air. Strong, powerful energy that could fill one with limitless possibilities. The witch at the northern point of the circle raised her arms and commanded, “Angel Avendale, heed our call. Our circle is true. Break the ties that bind you. Come forth to us, your sisters, your fate.”
    The coven repeated her words while the pair in the middle burned a picture. I couldn’t make out the image.
    As the last piece of ash fell from the photo, the witch leading the spell threw her head back and cried, “By the power of the coven, we command you, appear now within the safety of our circle. Join the souls of your sisters.”
    The power built and pressed in on me. Had I been in solid form, I was sure I’d have fainted or cried out in pain. The strength of it overwhelmed me, weighing me down. This wasn’t an ordinary earth spell. Something much more dangerous and powerful was happening.
    Blood magic. I smelled the copper tang first, and then turned to find both of the witches in the circle holding knives, each of them red with the owner’s blood. They raised their hands toward the sky and prayed while it trickled slowly over their wrists, down their bare arms.
    “By the Goddess of heaven and earth, we sacrifice ourselves for our sister, the Angel Avendale.”
    A heavy wind picked up, blowing out each of the black candles. The roar deafened the low chanting of the coven. Then suddenly, everything stopped and silence followed.
    The leader’s head came up, and for the first time I got a good look at her face. My heart stopped. “Mom,” I whispered.
    Of course she didn’t hear me. When she spoke again, I realized why I didn’t recognize her voice. It was the magic running through her. It transformed her soft-spoken speech into a powerhouse of a spell conjurer.
    As if in slow motion, I watched her take out her own knife and run it across the palm of her hand. She held it straight out over the circle. Time seemed to stop as one small bead of blood clung to her palm. It dangled indefinitely, unwilling to complete the blood spell. Finally at last, it splattered on the ground.
    All hell broke loose. Literally.
    A misty, coal-shaded fog filled the area, blinding me momentarily. When it faded, a tall woman with wild gray eyes stood between the silver-cloaked witches. She reached out and grabbed both of their wrists. “How dare you summon me?” she seethed.
    One of them gasped and fell to her knees. The other held herself steady and in a loud, but trembling voice said, “It’s too late. She’s already turned demon. Close the spell. Now!”
    My mother gasped and started chanting again.
    “No chanting,” the standing silver-cloaked witch commanded. “Not enough time.”
    A cackling laugh came from the demon. “You’re mine now. All of you.”
    The gray mist rose, swirling in a vortex around the two witches in her grasp. They stood trapped and terrified in their prisons. The mist spread out toward the rest of the witches, but before it