A Witch's Feast (35 page)

The news stations talked of nothing but the most recent terror attack. But they reported only two deaths: Connor, and a guard who worked for the Ranulfs. Both were now being hailed as American heroes. Connor’s accusation of witchcraft had been left out of the narrative. Tidier that way, Tobias supposed.

But the most heroic of all were the Ranulfs, of course, who had fought bravely against the witch attacks. The suspects’ names were all over the news, and Fiona cried when she realized she wouldn’t be able to see her mother for a very long time. They were going into hiding.
 

Tobias stared out one of the back windows. They’d finally made it out of the Washington, D.C. traffic, and the highways were empty here. “Tell me more about this place we’re going?”

Thomas turned to him from the front seat. “It’s known as Dogtown. The legend is that it’s ruled by werewolves who protect witches. Sorry—philosophers.”

“Werewolves?” Alan cocked an eyebrow.

Tobias shook his head. “There’s no such thing as werewolves. There are witches with wolf familiars. And they may have become a bit more lost in their beast side than they should have.”

Fiona tugged at the torn bodice on her dress. “Are you sure this place is real?”

Thomas turned to face the windshield again. “I never believed it was real. But now I’m ready to believe just about anything.”