John Blackwell is dead, Diana is gone, and the Circle is unbound. With the arrival of summer, so too do new variables present themselves. Faye falls back into her careless use of solo magic, Jake struggles with the warning from his uncle, Melissa embraces her newfound confidence, while Adam battles with a hazardous insecurity, and Cassie must learn to cope with the loss surrounding her. Relationships, romantic as well as platonic, are being revaluated. And in the midst of it all, a strange young woman brings more than a new face to Chance Harbor. Can the coven's bond extended deeper than just their magic, or will the darkness sever their link forever?

-8-

A/N: As with everything, I'm a late jumper of the fan train. Thanks to Supernatural, I kept seeing this on my Netflix suggestions. So, finally, I gave in. It was only one season, after all, thus if nothing else it would be a decent time filler, right? I didn't expect to enjoy it as much as I did. So, being the avid Googler that I am, I rushed off to find out when I was going to get my second season. Damn was I disappointed with the results that greeted me.

And now, here I am, with the rest of the devastated, wanting a continuation in order to answer the miles of questions the first 22 episodes left me with.

I'll warn you before you start, I haven't read any of the books, and as stated above, I don't feel as though I received a real in-depth understanding of the lore and mechanics of the Salem escapees from the show. That being said, I'm going to try my hardest to conjure the best possible answers. But they will be my own, and thus not canonical in any sense. Considering that is the basis for the majority of us TSC fanfic writers, and fanfiction in general, such a statement is probably unnecessary. Still, better safe than sorry.

Thank you, for bearing through my rambling. Feel free to yell at how ridiculously bad at this I am at the end.

Disclaimer: All properties belong to their respective owners.

-8-

It had been strong ten miles out, but now the intensity threatened to engulf her. Her skin tingled, electrified by the potency of magical essence. Then her hand twitched ever so slightly and a frown slid across her lips. Dark magic.

The darkness of twilight draped down around the houses and spilled onto the ground, occasionally broken by the too far spaced street lights. Sinister shadow men hid behind trees grown sporadically along the sidewalk. She needed to hurry inside; it was not safe to be so exposed tonight.

Lengthening her stride, she crossed the lawn within a few short moments. She unlocked the door and slid inside, pausing briefly to scan her surroundings, before once more closing the seal and turning the deadbolt into place. With a heavy sigh she leaned back against the sturdy barricade and sank to the ground.

As soon as she could, she would have to search them out, discover their intentions, as well as their standings with Balcoin – Blackwell. Until she knew the amount of his influence presided over them, she was stuck with basic and impersonal plans of interaction. His future involvement was no longer relative, but if there was one thing she had learned it was that his authority recognized no bounds.

In the least appealing but favorable circumstances, she could persuade them into see the dark witch for what he really was: a monster. Presented with the evidence she carried, it would be only through an infallible ignorance that the truth could be disregarded. Or rather, such is as she hoped. Otherwise, the alternative would undoubtedly be more death to come. And after everything that had occurred, the stupendous tragedy they had all experienced, she would be damned if a single member more of Chance Harbor's Circle was lost.

-8-

Cassie woke to the bright rays of an early morning sun streaming through the breaks in her curtains. She lay motionless, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the light, and allowed herself to enjoy the fog of sleep still clouding her mind, temporarily protecting her from the inevitable anxiety. As she did so, a pale strip of yellow shaft caught her attention. It shone across the room, illuminating the dust motes and causing them to sparkle like little dancing fairies. A small smile formed at the corners of her mouth in her captivation. It all looked so surreal. Slowly, however, the barrier lifted, and she was faced once again with the devastation of recent events.

Blackwell had been everything she had hoped against – a liar, trickster, evil. He had betrayed her trust on the deepest of levels, and her circle had almost paid the price. At least when they were strangers, she had been able to mourn a good man and loving father. Now she was almost ashamed of the dull ache her heart held for him.

Both of her best friends were gone. Diana was no longer beside her; and as much as Cassie wanted to blame Grant for taking her away, she could not. Diana had deliberately left Chance Harbor, left her friends, school, family, just to get away from her. From the magic Cassie had awakened in her.

And Adam… no longer loved her. That was perhaps the most heart wrenching of all. After Diana, he had been the one she had leaned on the most. Since they had taken the potion, though, she simply did not have the strength or confidence to look to him for the same support. She had been especially cautious about the amount of time they spent alone after the incident during her grandmother's wake. He had been gracious enough to overlook it once, and she was not about to test her luck with a second, potentially even more detrimental episode.

Adam, Diana, her grandmother – once those three were deducted, she was left with alone, with an empty house and an old journal. Sure, she had once been close to Jake. But after everything – his murdering Calvin, trading her lover for his life – she was having a hard time seeing him the same way. Just like Adam. Just like everything in her pathetic little world.

Sighing, Cassie pulled herself into a sitting position, ran a hand through her hair and released a yawn. The clock on her nightstand read six-thirty, informing her that she had plenty of time to get ready.

If Diana had anything, it was good timing. Her spontaneous departure granted that she would only miss the last day of school, which left her standing a senior in the fall – a fact which nearly guaranteed her return in the fall. In a kindlier disposition, Cassie might have been jubilated over the prospect. Presently, however, she could only manage a dim beam of hope.

Her body and mind willed her to follow suit her younger sister and skirt the day's event. But as far as she knew, the rest of the circle was attending, and they would be expecting her. Besides, she needed to publicize a fully intact, wholly in control, and utterly sane, Cassie Blake.

After the news of her father's death, and with him the departure of her last known relative, the town would most likely be in a fritz over her accountability. Although for her, a guardian was completely unwarranted. At, seventeen she was more than capable of living on her own. She was free of a mortgage and car payment, and what little bills she did have would be covered easily. Moreover, there was always the option of a taking up a roommate. Cassie had learned to accept the solitary of being a one-woman-house, but she was open to exploring possibilities if it meant she would not be forced under someone else's roof. Her current state left her in no condition to undertake acclimatizing to a whole other household.

As these thoughts besieged her, she forced her body to follow the routine of preparing for her day, starting with a shower. The cool water removed the rest of sleep's claim over her, replacing it with a new sense of alertness. That was when she noticed the peculiar sensation tugging at her. It was eerily related to the one she had felt last night, yet dissimilar at the same time, and along with it came the feeling of being watched by ominous eyes. Perplexed, Cassie cast a quick glance towards Jake's window, but could not see anything remarkable.

Frowning, she tried to calm the growing apprehension by focusing her attention on getting dressed. Pink flouncy tank under the white form-fitting one. Denim skirt, brown boots. Necklace and bracelet... As she slid the cord over her hand, she noticed the lack of raised skin that had been present the night before. Cassie briefly ran her finger along her palm, wondering where the dark symbol had gone, before discarding the jewelry and replacing it with a pair of fingerless brown gloves, for precaution's sake. Alright, good. Now hair.

The doorbell rang just as she finished tying her blonde mess up, causing her to jump. She gave herself a quick once over in the mirror, and was halfway down the hall before she stopped. Was I expecting anyone?

She remained still a heartbeat, then crept down the first flight of stairs. Hesitating on the platform, Cassie peered over the railing in attempts to distinguish the person on the other side of the glass. The impression she had felt from her room had not released its hold, but had seemed to grow adversely stronger.

What was she supposed to do? Call one of her circle? Cry for help? Her eyes narrowed and the familiar swell of power rushed to mix with adrenaline. No. She had not needed help before, and she did not now. After all, they were not bound, something that had not occurred in nearly nine months. The last thing she needed was a group of teenage witches sporadically throwing magic around her home.

Cassie descended the last few steps and was headed for the door when the figure shifted. A second chime vibrated through the house, accented by her slow exhale of relief. The brief change of stance had allowed her to revaluate the form, bringing recognition and comfort, though it did little to explain the strange energy. Nonetheless, upon opening the door, it pulsed, then fled her mind as though through one large breath, leaving behind a dull tingling of an aftershock.

"Hey."

"Adam," she greeted hastily in her distraction, dipping her head to see around to his frame, "you didn't happen to notice anything… weird while you were out here, did you?"

The dark-headed boy stared uncertainly down at her, though it was only concern she heard in his voice. "Weird like how? What happened?"

"Nothing. Never mind," she said, placing her heels back on the ground. "I've just been on edge all morning. Must be a side effect from the skull." He transferred his weight then, causing her to look up and meet his gaze. "Did you need something?"

His hands in his front pockets, he shrugged and replied, "I was wondering if you wanted a ride to school." He laughed once and gave her a lopsided smile. "That's the last time I'll be able to say that for three months."

Cassie forced herself to mimic the gesture, opening the door a little wider to give him passage inside. "Sure. Give me a minute to finish getting ready." She led the way further into the house, bound for the kitchen, while he closed the door behind them. "Want anything? The coffee's fresh."

"Uh, no thanks. I'm okay."

"Alright…" Pointing with her thumb behind her, she took a step towards the hallway as she continued. "Well, if you change your mind, feel free to help yourself. I'll be right back."

She hurried up the stairs and into her room. As she collected her brown cargo jacket and purse, she could not help but wonder what had spurred Adam's visit. Had she not been pondering over their status merely that morning? Days ago the proposal would have been normal, almost expected, but now… now she was not sure how she felt about it. And she could not help the thoughts blooming. Why did he come? It's not like I don't have my own vehicle. And what was with the spook before he showed up? Does he have something to do with it? If so, why isn't he telling me?

Sighing, she threaded part of her coat through the purse's handles, setting it to rest over its body. The palm of her hand felt vaguely warm, and the tingling had yet to ebb. Already the day was showing promising signs of magic-related quandary, and it was barely eight o'clock.

-8-

Summer seemed to be arriving early and with force in Chance Harbor, sweeping the locals into a treat of unusually warm weather. The sun shone brightly over dew laden grass and leaves, branches bearing the latter stretching upwards in thanksgiving. Brilliant blue skies outlined periodic white puffs above. It was like someone had flicked a switch, trading overcast for the season's full magnificence, as though in ditch efforts to counteract the preceding disaster. And it did, to a diminutive extent.

The drive to school was an uncomfortable one. Once Cassie redirected the conversation when Adam again questioned about the 'weird' of the morning, and after becoming accustomed to the disturbance behind her skull, she found that she was left with the right amount of focus for suitably casual small talk that would not drop her heart. While Adam, on the other hand, was cool as ever.

Finally they pulled into the parking lot. As she stared out at the grounds in front of her, she again battled with the idea of skipping. She had much more pressing matters to deal with than a social call.

"Thanks for the ride," she said, flashing him a quick smile before reaching for the door.

"Cassie, wait."

She desperately wanted to grimace. I knew this wasn't random, she thought. Molding her features into one of polite interest, she cocked her head and asked, "What's up?"

There was a brief elapse of silence as he stared at her, the look on his face unreadable. "How are you doing? So much has happened this year: learning about magic, losing Jane and your mom, and now Diana..." She diverted her gaze momentarily, curling her fingers over the absent Balcoin symbol. Was her sister even thinking about her? "I know it's only been a day, but I wanted to make sure you were alright."

Offering him a one-sided smile, she bobbed her head slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, not really. But I'll be fine. Like you said, a lot's happened this year. I've gotten used to Chance Harbor's 'no witch gets a break' philosophy." When he looked about to argued, she interceded. "Adam, really."

He nodded once and glanced out the windshield with a thoughtful look. "What about us? Are we okay?" he asked, turning back to her. "Or will we be fine?"

Blindsided by the abruptness of the question, and the reediting of her own word, Cassie felt her face fall in shock. "Wha – We're – I…" She fumbled for words as emotions fought for dominance. Or will we be fine? Played back in her mind, the phrase came out an accusation, glinted with a sentiment she could not place. Regret? Anger? What did he have to be angry at her for? Except driving a wedge between Diana and him… That had not been of entirely her fault, however. Blame fell equally amongst a few parties, he included. Fine. Suddenly, she was fuming. A little voice told her she should calm down, that she was taking it wrong, but it was quickly subdued by that increasingly annoying sense in her head.

"I thought we were fine." Her eyes drew to slits, bringing the agitation into her face. "Why, do you not think so?"

"You're behaving like a child."

Where was this coming from? He did not sound like Adam at all. "Wow. And you're Mister Mature Guy over there? Really?"

Grabbing her bag, Cassie yanked the door open and slid out, shutting it roughly behind her. Versus the satisfying slam of metal hitting metal, however, she was met with the explosion of shattering glass. Eyes wide and mouth agape, she lower the arm that had instinctively risen to protect her face and took a step forward, only to retreat when some of the overspill crunched under her foot.

"What happened? Are you okay? Cassie! Cassie, are you alright?"

She had not even heard him leave the truck. But there he was, right at her side, worried if she was harmed. "Adam, I am so sorry. I don't know – I didn't…" She turned towards him, relief flooding her when she found no immediate injuries. "Are you hurt? Did any cut you?"

"No, no I'm fine. I had already gotten out when it happened."

"I can't even – I'm so sorry, Adam. I swear, I'll pay for it-"

"Sh sh shh," he quieted, placing a hand on either of her arms, "it's not a big deal. Just try to calm down."

Taking a deep breath, she cast a sweep around the parking lot. A selective group of people had taken interest in the scene and were edging closer. Nearer the school, there were adults making their across to them. Then a particular set of eyes caught her attention, and the sensation was back, followed by the burning of her palm.

There they were – some of them, anyways. The others were either inside already, or hiding out. Whichever the case, it currently did not matter. These two – the boy and girl – were with whom she was most concerned. Using the amassing students as cover, she worked her way closer to them. She was nearly upon them when she was assaulted by a brick wall of sickly aura. Hands balling into fists, she roamed the throng with just her eyes, ever vigilant in her discretion.

Another pair, also male and female, was stationed next to a vehicle along the row opposite her objectives. She watched as they moved closer, the girl's lips barely moving as she spoke to her companion. When he responded, she shook her head and gestured toward the other couple with the faintest inclination of her head. There were few more exchanges, then they broke and confidently started their approach.

"Adam," Cassie hissed, the urgency of her voice echoing in her own ears. He immediately halted in his examining of the car and provided her his full attention, to which then she leaned closer to him and whispered, "Do those kids over there seem suspicious to you? The boy and girl, beside the silver Impala." Nonchalantly, Adam followed her directions, the clenching of jaw informing her when he had spotted the duo. "Do you think they have something to do with this?"

"I'm not sure." The girl was half a head taller than Cassie, her long blond hair a few shades darker; meanwhile the boy was roughly six-foot, with a mop of light espresso brown. Both were dressed in all black, and looked to be around their own age. They stood close together, watching the scene too intently, the subtle movement of their mouths barely noticeable. "But I don't like it."

As if on cue, they broke away from the car and pushed their way towards them. The crowd parted easily under their almost predatory advance. Nevertheless, rather than departing to their respective classes, the adolescents simply drew closer.

The twosome was nearly on top of them, the boy's mouth looking as though about to speak, when suddenly there was a woman residing in the tight space between them. At first, Cassie thought it might have been a teacher come to intervene – all she could see was her five-seven height, black leather jacket, and short hair. Then the newcomer spoke.

"John. Scarlett."

Cassie felt her blood turn to ice. As she scrutinized his face further over the woman's shoulder, it was clear he had inherited more than just her father's name. He bore the same strong jaw, cheekbones, and even his eyes. How she had not recognized these features sooner confounded her. The girl, on the other hand, held no heavy resemblance. Her tiny nose, light brows, and soft chin curved with feminine grace, and her green-accented blue eyes gleamed with a permanent wickedness.

Those features were, at the particular instant, staring at the dark-haired female with bewildered malice.

"How does this fail to surprise me?" His voice is an octave higher than his namesake's. "I knew I should have done it myself."

"It's so hard to find a trustworthy crew these days, huh?"

A twisted curve played at the corner of his mouth and he let out a humorless laugh. "You and your smartass mouth. Better keep it in check, sweetheart, you're no longer the one calling the shots."

The smirk in her voice was evident as she retorted, "My bad, I nearly forgot. That's up to you, Scar-tits-" a growl sounded from the blonde's throat at the nickname, only to be ignore, "-here, and the rest of the Blackwell spawn now, right? Look around you, John. You're one down, I'm two up thanks to your inability to present a civilized introduction, and I had a really good nap."

Behind her, Adam and Cassie clasped hands and shifted their positions to show their support. John's dark gaze flickered to them temporarily before returning to glare at the stranger. The dark magic Cassie could feel emanating from her half siblings was incredible – potent and incessant.

This time he spoke directly to Cassie, though it was apparent the threat was meant for them all. "Don't worry, sis, we'll have a proper family reunion yet."

Then Scarlett glanced at Adam's truck, and grinned. "Nice car by the way."

Adam moved as to step forward, but both siblings had already been repelled back several feet. It appeared that John, in particular, had been shoved by a wrecker, and when he coughed into his sleeve, Cassie could see specks of blood. The woman's hands had been suspended, but she knew the two had not been moved by physical means. "It's time for you to leave."

"Ah, looks like you've benefited well from our little… breakup."

She let out a quiet laugh and shook her head slightly. "You always did underrate the rest of us."

His face contorted at the statement, but it seemed to have induced some kind of reaction, because he turned to Scarlett. "Come on, Scarlett. This will be dealt with soon enough." After glowering a moment longer, the girl did what she was told, reluctantly breaking contact to turn and follow in his retreat. The woman remained rooted in her spot as they are sauntered away, not breaking her guard until they had disappeared from sight.

-8-

By then the teachers had reached them, scattering the horde and making inquiries, to which the woman had all of the explanations.

She was pretty, to say the least. Her skin was light, exceedingly so in contrast to the amount of black and otherwise dark shades bordering it. With hair a deep burgundy-plum mixture, tipped black, streaked purple, and decently short – the longest piece cut just past her ear – it was definitely the most colorful part of her. Yet, rounded, dark eyebrows suggested she was not ordinarily so. Her blue-gray eyes were rimmed with black liner and long lashes, full lips a natural pale pink, and cheeks untouched by blush or bronzer. The black continued onto her jacket, top, and rider's boots, while her tattered jeans remained content with a dark wash. A piercing sat in the top of one ear plus two along the bottom, with an extra along the side of the other, alternating between silver and more black.

Now seeing her face, she could only have been a few years older. Three, maybe four tops. She looked like she belonged on the cover of a tattoo magazine, whereas she held herself like she was a lawyer – sturdy, calculating, and amiable.

"And who might you be?" Mr. Tolm, the English professor, asked dubiously once she had answered numerous questions. "I don't believe I've seen you prior to now."

"You haven't, I just moved here," she replied. "My name is Levi Rand."

"Well, Miss Rand, I appreciate your intervening when you did. I'm afraid things may have gotten out of hand if left to themselves."

"Of course."

"But if you would, next time, refrain from inserting yourself in school affairs, I would be much obliged. The less third parties, you understand." It was a polite request, even presented with a smile, which she mirrored.

"I do, although I hope I won't have to be tempted again. Are disputes like this typical?"

"Not normally, no," he sighed and looked up in the sun's general direction. "It must be this heat. We're not used to this kind of spell so early in the season. Or at all, really."

"Nature has a mind of its own," she concurred. Glancing at Adam and Cassie, she continued, "I've taken up enough of your time. Why don't I stop by the office later and give them my information in case you acquire any concerned parents?"

"I don't think that will be necessary. These sorts of scuttles don't usually cause much of a fuss amongst the locals." Levi nodded, and the man turned to the them. "If you wish to make it to your classes, you had better hurry." With that, he gave Levi another quick but appreciative smile before walking off.

As soon as he was out of hearing range, Cassie made to speak, but Levi simply held up a hand. "I'd rather not have to repeat myself half a billion times, so before you start interrogating me, how about you text your friends and have them meet us at your hideout – clubhouse – whatever you call it?"

"And what makes you think we'd listen to you?" Cassie posed after a moment.

"Because you want answers, and I need to tell you something, like, last month. So bottle the skepticism for ten minutes and do what I asked, please."

She sounded genuine, but after being burned so badly by her father, her own flesh and blood, Cassie could not fathom exposing her circle to the threat of a complete stranger. What if the whole scene with her half siblings had just been a ruse so that she could infiltrate their sanctuary, to catch them all together (minus one)? These fears she voiced when Adam pulled her aside.

"I just don't want to take the chance trusting an outsider again," she emphasized.

"Look, Cassie, you weren't the only one who made the call with Blackwell. If I remember right, I told you I trusted him the last time you asked. He played us all. And under any other circumstances, I would say no way in hell. But," he paused to look over at his car and frowned, "somehow I don't think we're prepared to deal with four of him on our own."

He was right. The exploding window had not been about a juvenile prank; they were prepared for an all out brawl, right in the middle of the school yard. Just was her luck, that her siblings had inherited the Balcoin lunacy gene.

That, however, did not mean they could permit another random witch into their circle.

"No, we're not taking her back to the house. Not without the other's say-so."

Adam hesitated, contemplating her assertion, but eventually consented. "Fine. And hey," he added before she could leave, "about in the car, what I said, I'm sorry. I don't know where that came from."

"Don't worry about it," she replied, smiling softly. "We've both been through hell lately. The stress was bound to get us sometime." Even as she said it, however, she could not help but wonder if she was trying to console him, or herself.

They turned back to Levi and found her staring intently in one direction, her features oddly placid. "The magic currents are strong here. But you already knew that." When she looked at them, Cassie could see a vague glaze over her irises. "Just as you know about Balcoin, and the skull."

Cassie shot Adam an incredulous glance before taking a step closer to the woman. "Who are you?" Levi laughed once and returned to gazing in the distance. "I asked you a question," Cassie said, her voice growing louder with anger. "Who. Are. You?"

"Oh, hun, I don't respond well to threats." There was no trace of detachment in her bright eyes this time as they made eye contact. "And certainly not from Blackwells." Levi studied her for a long time, then sighed. "But it seems you won't trust me without an answer, and as I said earlier, you really need to hear what I have to say. So, you already know my name, although you could take or leave it. You've seen I'm a witch. Well, you've seen me perform a very basic move, anyways. And I have history with your bloodline. What does that tell you?"

She was about to snap about the relevancy of her spiel when something stopped her. There was a pattern, a familiarity to it that clicked in her mind. Before she could reply, however, Adam spoke for her, "You're from one of the Eastern circles."

Levi nodded, her demeanor grave as she looked at them. "Yes; and one of the last without Blackwell blood."