M. Ryan

1968. The Glenda Barker incident. The dead things rose. People died. And Stefan Roland was on the scene to capture it all in glorious film. It wasn’t planned. You didn’t plan life-changing and career-making events like that. You kept reporting and maybe you got lucky. Maybe you got something so big that the Inquisition couldn’t keep it quiet or hush it up. Maybe you got to show the world what was going on. And if you were really lucky, maybe you survived the dead things instead of becoming one.

Sixteen and stressed. It wasn’t the driver’s test that had Ravyn on edge. It was the Inquisition’s test. Every four years, the Inquisition tested her for any hint of paranormal abilities that would mark her as a witch. Oh, their methods had evolved over the centuries. They didn’t burn witches at the stake anymore. Today, burning a witch meant chemical and surgical brain surgery to eliminate any unnatural talents the witch possessed. Internationally backed, the new secular Inquisition formed an elite police force standing against darkness. Yeah, right. Ravyn knew firsthand what it meant. She helped her mom take care of her grandmother, accused witch, burned by the Inquisition, and barely able to function now. Just being her granddaughter was enough to put Ravyn under suspicion. So, yeah, turning sixteen was stressful. Especially since she suspected she might be a witch after all.