They were a large family of women-always women, although I guess guys factored in there somewhere, seeing as how the family had been around for over a thousand years. Descended from a megapowerful white witch named Maeve Brannick, they’d dedicated themselves to ridding the world of evil.
Unfortunately, I fit their definition of evil.
The girl scowled. “You are something,” she hissed, leaning in closer. “I can feel it. Whatever you are, it’s not human. So you can either tell me what kind of freak you are, or I can cut you open and find out myself.”
I stared at her. “You are one hard-core little kid.”
Her scowl deepened.
“I’m looking for the Brannicks,” I said in a rush. “And I’m guessing you are one because…you know, red hair and the violence and everything.”
“What’s your name?” she demanded as the stinging at my neck became actual pain.
“Sophie Mercer,” I said through clenched teeth.
Her eyes widened. “No way,” she said, sounding for the first time like the middle schooler she probably was.
“Way,” I croaked.

Auteur: Rachel Hawkins