Page 1 of Bloodween

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let’s begin…

the setup

“ONE THING I REFUSED TO BE THIS HALLOWEEN, WAS A DEAD LITTLE WITCH.”

I’d always associated the color red with power. Red lipstick. Red dresses. Red wine. In my world—in the world of The Crimson Witches of the Blood Coven—red was our identity. Red meant magic. Red meant sacrifice. Red meant blood.

And this Halloween, I was going to paint the town red. Because if I didn’t… I was going to be a dead little witch.

And I was far too cute for that.

Earlier today, I’d taken a potion that would change the trajectory of my life as a witch. My Coven Master had handed me the Crimson Elixor in a small vial—black glass, no bigger than my thumb. The liquid inside had been dark, reddish-black, and when I’d uncorked it, the smell had made my eyes water. Iron and ash and something older.

“You understand what this means,” she’d said. It wasn’t a question.

I’d nodded. I knew all the risks. I knew that I couldn’t punk out. Not that I would; I’d been waiting for this day since I was twenty-one and of age to do the ritual.

“Once you drink it, there’s no going back,” she’d reminded me. “Twenty-four hours. You complete the ritual or you die.”

“Yes. I know. I am ready, Master Vale.”

She’d studied my face for a long moment. Then she’d smiled, just slightly. “Yes, Armisha, you are.”

Her eyes flashed red, giving me the okay, and I’d tilted my head back and drank, officially making myself a Crimson Circle initiate.

It had tasted like swallowing smoke and rust. Like drowning. Like death. Most importantly... like power.

Now, twelve hours later, I could still feel it moving through me. A restlessness beneath my skin. A hunger that had nothing to do with food.

The bass of the music thrummed through my chest, bringing my awareness back to where I stood in the corner of the crowded living room, red cup with club soda in hand.

As much as I could use some real liquor, I didn’t have time for that. I needed to focus on the task at hand.

I scanned the room, searching for my best friend, Renna. She’d been arguing with her boyfriend and I’d given them space but honestly we didn’t have time for all of that. Then again, her arguing with him might mean she’d need a shoulder to cry on soon and I had one waiting right for her.

Just for her.

Someone dressed as a sexy nun stumbled past me, giggling into the neck of a guy in a Ghostface mask. Mortals, especially in the city of Marlowe⁠*, were always eager to play pretend. Dressed as witches, wolves, and demons, never realizing the real ones were right beside them.

I rolled my eyes and pushed through the crowd toward the kitchen. The microwave clock glowed 11:33 p.m.—twenty-seven minutes until Halloween.

For them, another night of unlimited liquor and bad decisions.

For me, Bloodween.

“Armi! There you are!”

I turned towards Renna’s voice to see her pushing through the crowd as she made it into the kitchen. I forced my face into something friendly: bestie mode activated.

Ren looked stressed. Her shoulders were tight and her pretty smile did not reach her deep brown upturned eyes. Eyes that always reminded me of my own. Just softer. Sweeter. People always said we could be sisters. Same build, same brown complexion, and both always wearing braids. Although, I was maybe a half an inch taller at exactly five foot seven.

She had on the she-wolf costume she’d shown me when we video chatted earlier. She thought it was bestie coded that she’d be dressed as a wolf while I was dressed as Little Red Riding Hood.

Little did she know… this was irony in full effect. At least the gray bodysuit, fake fur, and clip-on ears were cute.

“Hey,” I said as she got closer. “You okay?”