The blood slowly drained from Evie’s face. “Jesus, Dani.”

I hadn’t meant to scare her. “All I’m saying is, I have a chance to find out who’s silencing anyone who recognizes the photo of Mom.”

She nodded. “That’s good, I guess.”

“I have something else to tell you.” May as well get it all out now.

“Oh god, what is it now?”

“As a half-demon, it’s likely that I’ll have a longer-than-normal lifespan.”

It took Evie a moment to understand what I meant, and then her mouth dropped open. “Jesus, you’ll be around for centuries.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be. How am I going to end up old and wrinkly while you’ll still look like that?”

Guilt flowed through me, and Evie burst out laughing.

“I’m a homebody, Danica. You spend your time going up against insane witches and fighting paranormals. If I had to put my money on who would live longer, it’d be on me.”

I smirked. “You know, that’s basically what Vas said.”

“I knew I liked him. It’ll be fine, Danica. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that. There’s one other thing.”

Evie slumped back on the sofa and rolled her eyes. “Oh god, make it stop.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her dramatics. I walked over and sat next to her, stroking my hand down Lia’s silky head. “When I was at the coven’s house the other day, I noticed something weird.”

“Weird in what way?”

“When I lower my shields, I sometimes see magical signatures. They occasionally look like colors, although sometimes it’s just a feeling. Did you know the coven’s house had power?”

She nodded. “Yeah, hundreds of witches have added their power into wards and protection spells over the years. It’s not sentient or anything, but it now requires less and less power to sustain the wards.”

“The power looks like yours. No one else’s.”

She frowned. “I’ve never adjusted the wards. I’ve never needed to.”

“Hmmm. Weird.” My phone buzzed and I glanced down at it. “Vas just messaged, asking when I’m planning to leave.”

Evie grinned, gently placing Lia back on the couch. She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket, closed her eyes, ripped up the piece of paper, and I gaped as her hair slowly began to darken.

She lost a couple of inches and her skin turned slightly darker, matching mine. Her hair lost its curls, and while she’d never pass as my twin, from the back, hurrying toward my car, people would see what they expected to see.

I took a moment to marvel. “God you’re good. Hold on, let me grab some clothes.”

My sister was wearing a white sundress, and I handed her a pair of my jeans and a t-shirt. She pulled her gun from her purse. “Do you have a spare holster?”