Raven Ridge (Witches of Sanctuary Book 2) by Savannah Blevins Page B

briar-infested sanctuary for cobwebs. It’s barely past dusk when we start our trek through the border line of Frog Hollow onto the small slice of land. Sadie and I hold a ball-sized orb of glowing light to allow Reid and Abby sight to thrash away at the vines of briars that block our path up the hill toward the last known whereabouts of the Bessette house.
    Reid pulls back a string of vines and motions us to go forward. I nick myself on a stray thistle as I try to move under his arm. I glare at it, the glowing orb in my hand turning to fire, but Reid grabs my wrists. “No fire,” he says, whispering. “We want to make as little damage to the land as possible to get through. We don’t want anyone to know we’ve been here.”
    I allow the flame to turn back to my miniature moon. I wasn’t happy about it, though. We make our way up the hill until finally the brush starts to thin out. I spot what is left of the small cabin in a clearing. Half of the roof has caved in on one side and a giant oak tree grows out one of the windows on the back side.
    Leaves crunch behind me.
    I turn, but nothing is there. Not even Sadie, who I expect to find. She’s already ahead of me, shaking another cobweb off her shoe. I turn back around only to glance suspiciously over my shoulder again. It’s probably a squirrel frolicking along the hillside. Or a giant Shelob spider with gaping claws and razor-like fangs.
    Or worse. Julien.
    I hurry and catch up to the others. Reid stands at the door of the old shack, his hand sifting through his hair. Abby gallops up behind him. “What’s wrong?”
    “Someone has been here recently.”
    Reid points at the door to the shack that lays off its hinges on the splintering floorboards of the porch. Muddy footprints are clearly visible streaked across the top like someone paced back and forth on it. I carefully jump onto the porch, shooting the glow of the light into the open door. The inside of the house is a wreck. The few things left inside—a table, chairs, an old wooden chest and shelf—are turned upside down or completely broken in two. It’s a manmade disaster, not one brought on by years of neglect.
    Reid eases in the door beside me, testing each board to make sure it will support his weight. Abby and Sadie follow, but there isn’t much to see. Someone has definitely been here, and they were in a fit of rage, from the look of it. I pick up one of the shattered legs from the table. The splinters along the cracks are fresh. Reid’s right. Someone had a temper tantrum here, and it has been recently.
    “I told you,” Reid says, shoving the table aside with his foot. “Shine the light this way.”
    There are more shelves overturned in the corner. Reid heaves them over to the other side of the room. “Someone ripped the floorboards up over here.”
    I climb over the table to take a look. Half the floor is missing. Reid jumps down inside the hole, pushing back a table that covers the edge. “Be careful,” Abby says, working her way around the pile of broken furniture. “Anything could be sleeping down there.”
    “Doubt it,” Reid says. “This section of the under-flooring has been blocked in. They probably used it as storage at some point.” He sticks his hand further back under the house, his fist tapping on something. “Yep. You hear that? More wood.”
    “You think the book was here and someone beat us to it?”
    “I don’t think so. If the book was here, it’s been gone for quite some time.”
    “Why the mess?” I ask, helping Reid back out of the giant hole.
    “Whoever was here wasn’t looking for the book.”
    A floorboard bends outside the door. Reid immediately jumps in front of me. I really don’t think it’s a squirrel this time.
    “Help!” The voice is outside in the distance.
    Abby glances back at me and Sadie whips the light back out the front door.
    “Help me.” The voice is more urgent now. Desperate.
    Abby springs toward the door. “That’s Grady.”
    We