The wall behind me lets out a loud creak, as if the house is shifting its weight.

“See? The house agrees.” I jab a thumb at the wall. It really needs a new coat of periwinkle paint, but the house won’t allow it. Rose says it’s because it tickles.

“The house always agrees with you, honey. You’re the only one who has any time for it.”

The only reason I have more time is because no one visits Ravenfall for my powers. While Nora tells fortunes, the twins read people, and Aunt Elaine talks to spirits, I sweep the porch and chase the sprites out of the garden. All I want is for my powers to be useful, for me to belong.

It doesn’t help that I’ve always known that I’ll inherit the inn. Nora’s never said it, but who else? My older brother is studying to be a physics professor at MIT, intent on proving his powers through science, and the twins already have college scholarships, which just leaves me.

Plain, useless me.

I spin the mug of Earl Grey in circles as I replay the scene from last night over and over again in my head, looking for anything I might have missed. Who did I bump into? Why had they killed those poor people?

Glass shatters.

I jump, nearly knocking the mug off the table. Nora stares blankly at me. Glass shards the color of dried blood lay before her in a perfect crescent shape.

I sigh. That’d been one of my favorite cups. It’s not the first sacrificial victim of my family’s powers, though, and it won’t be the last. My uncle once set my favorite couch on fire, and Gran has a tendency to leave objects floating on the ceiling. Nora always goes zombie-eyed whenever she gets her visions, and anything she’s holding on to gets a gravity-induced reality check.

I love magic, but sometimes living with a family of psychics can be a real drag.

Nora blinks rapidly as the vision releases her. “Oh dear.”

“What did you see?”

“Blood,” she replies grimly. “And a new guest.”

A dustpan launches off the wall with a small broom, and she steps aside as the house sweeps up the glass.

“That’s so vague,” I groan. Sometimes Nora’s visions are as clear as a scrying crystal, but other times they’re just feelings or impressions. This one can mean anything. There’s not much I like about my powers, but at least my visions are way more specific.

She gives a What can you do? shrug and picks up the now-full dustpan. “How about this: I’ll look into what you saw so we can put your mind at ease. In the meantime, do me a favor and feed Max before the guest arrives. You know how he gets around blood.”

“Feeding Max is Kara’s job this week.”