A vine lunges out of the hedge and curls around Willow’s throat. Others snag into her dress, yanking her backward off the bench. She screams as I lunge, pulling two knives out and slashing into the vines over and over again until she can crawl away.

“Run!” I yell.

Willow’s up and moving, but a branch trips me, and I sprawl on my hands and knees.

Willow crouches beside me. “Are you okay?” Dots of blood ring her neck like a gruesome choker.

I don’t answer. I’m bleeding. A lot. My hand landed on a vine full of thick thorns that’s still trying to wrap around my wrist. Wet heat seeps from my palm into the stones. I hack the plant away from me.

“Can you heal it?”

I shake my head.

“I can try,” she offers.

“Be quiet.”

She tenses beside me, but we don’t have time for hurt feelings.

I didn’t notice it before, but I can feel the blood from my wounds tugging me in a certain direction, an arrow in a compass.

The feeling makes my skin crawl. Like a monster is calling, and my blood answers.

I don’t like it.

It’s blood magic again. Why is blood magic so prevalent in a group who fights against blood magicians? But maybe blood magic wasn’t how we were supposed to get back at all. Maybe I’m accidently cheating.

I swallow. I’m already cut. I can use it just this once.

We need to get out. The sun’s gone, and Willow’s a faded pink shadow beside me. This isn’t just about me.

I rise to my feet. “Follow me.” I stride instead of running. My franticness is gone. The magic is calling me to its waiting, hungry mouth, and I only need to listen.

I pause a couple more times to spin in circles and feel for that extra tug of blood seeping from my palm. The pull grows stronger and stronger until we turn a corner and stand in front of a cheerful yellow door.

Willow cheers. “You did it!”

It’s too dark to read her face, but I hear a bit of jealousy in the way she says you did it and not we.

I could have found it without her and had one less competitor.

I flinch at my own thoughts.

“Let’s go,” she says.

“One second.” I bend down and rip off part of my dress, squeezing the material against my palm to stop the bleeding. Now that we’re so close to the house, the magic feels like it wants to pull every last drop of blood from my body. The sensation makes my head swim.

“Are you okay?” Willow asks.

I nod and head for the door, opening it and stepping through.