Chapter 19

Nineteen

A larger portion of the coven's witchcraft lies in the aesthetic.

I warned them about that before we got to the tiny warehouse and descended the uneven steps down to catacombs that were only a few decades old… despite their appearance.

They'd been designed to wind a person round and round, but I knew the way through.

Like every member of the coven, I had learned it long ago.

But each step through the cavernous structure sets the guys a little bit further on edge. They might be growling if they weren't wearing amber. It's deadened the effects of the spells woven into these rocks… but not by much.

It's a deterrent spell, meant to drive the unwanted away. As soon as we step out of the maze and into the round room carved out for rituals, it evaporates. This space is filled with spells, lined with plinths and covered in names and incantations scratched into stone. Even as the guys relax behind me, I know it won't last.

They know we're not alone. If they didn't, Johnny would already have cracked a remark about leaving up the Halloween decorations. But the bones here are real.

They know that too.

The coven shows itself in a darkly theatric manner. But I prepped the guys for this too. They know what to be intimidated by. And this isn't it.

Forming a half circle around us, the cloaked witches are dark shapes against dark stone, and as one they pull back their hoods, revealing themselves to us.

I manage not to roll my eyes.

This is the sort of nonsense that helped me make the decision to leave.

The stratification of the coven is obvious when they do this. The ones we need to pay attention to are in the center.

Renée Dubois, Martha Lourdes, and my mother.

The ones we need to worry about are on the ends.

Morgatta and Selene are among the most powerful in the coven. They were placed closest to us for a reason.

And in between, the witches move outward from center in relation to where they stand within the coven's outdated ranking system.

A practice that may disappear when the eldest of the group finally move on to the afterlife.

The witches of my mother's generation don't outnumber those of mine, but there will always be the deference to age and experience.

It is why Renée is the one ostensibly in charge. She is not the oldest, but she is the most powerful of her generation.

She is the one who steps forward, our inquisitor, but not—ultimately—our judge. The entire coven must decide.

"You know why you are here?" she asks.

"We do." I don't offer anything else. I'll only answer the questions I'm asked.

She watches me for a moment and then, loudly, tells all assembled.

"Scarlette Mathis, daughter and sister of our coven, has bound the spirits of four werewolves to her on a Samhain blue moon."

From the faces of some of the younger witches, my so-called crime had not been fully disseminated.

Their confusion also told me they weren't sure why this was a problem.

It was not, after all, a common spell. And most of the witches of my generation probably thought what I'd done was nothing more than an urban legend.

"Furthermore, she has bound their change to her."

That pronouncement widens eyes that had not been surprised by the first.

I'm certain imaginations have begun to run riot.

Renée turns to me, her cloak spinning around her.

"Why did you do it?" She asks, her dark gaze shifting from me to the men behind me.

"We all know my connection to the coven is symbolic anymore. I will be here if you need me. But I am a solitary witch. I will admit that when I made the decision to perform the spell, it was purely meant for security.

"I may still fall under your protection, with this tie we have, but I live three hours from you. In the immediate, I am no safer because I belong to the coven."

"You say that was your aim when you made the decision. What has changed?"

"I know them now. And this connection we have… even if I was able to, I wouldn't give it up."

Renée watches me and I know she doesn't like my implication.

"Can you think of any circumstance in which you would turn them against the coven?"

"Of course not. They're not attack dogs. As long as no one tries to hurt me, they won't try to hurt anyone."

As if to prove my point, Thomas' wolf walks through me, sitting between me and the coven.

My mother's lips quirk in a smile, but she forces it away as quickly as it forms.

"And you four." Renée says, looking past me. "You know what kind of power she has given you."

As discussed, it's Joshua who steps beside me—the deference to age, or the appearance of it. "Yes. And if you think for one minute that we would hurt her… maybe you need a bite taken out of you."

I wince, pinching my eyes closed.

But the woman laughs. "As if you could manage it."

"If you're not scared of us, I wonder why you bothered to force us up here at all."

I drop my head to the side and whisper. "Not helping."

Renée studies him, when her gaze drops to his wrist, it flits to me for a moment before she turns her glare back on him.

"Do you hate the change that much?"

"We hate the change, yes. But that's not why we won't let you touch her."

"Oh really? Do tell."

"We're in love with her," Johnny says from behind me and I hold my breath.

That wasn't scripted.

But it plunges the room to silence a silence so loud, my ears hurt.

I can't do anything about the fizzy feeling that covers over my arms.

Renée is the first to speak and her words are far softer than they have been as she considers each of the four of them. "That is certainly something to think about."

"What happens when the four of you start to fight over her?"

I look past Renée to where Martha Lourdes scowls at us from beneath pink, horn rimmed glasses.

Aphrodite's mother has never liked me.

"That's the benefit of dating werewolves," Joshua says with bared teeth. "Especially in a pack that's been together as long as ours… we will never fight over her. She will never have to choose."

"This is a danger," Martha says, eyes still narrowed. "The safety of the coven comes first. They should be dealt with."

Renée pauses, as if she's considering it.

After a moment of that silence, Thomas' wolf steps forward, lowering its head and pushing her back.

It's a gentle movement. A warning.

The fact that he can push her at all is proof that even mild threats can bring the wolves out to play.

"Interesting…" She turns her back on us and walks away.

I'd have thought it was a power move, if there weren't a dozen other witches there to make sure no one lunged after her.

As the others draw back to her, a shimmering wall forms between them and us.

The witches speak within their bubble and I take a deep breath, going back to the others. Chase immediately pulls me to his side and kisses my forehead. "If they banish you, where are we going to move?"

That pulls someone's attention back to us, though in my periphery, I only see the movement, not who it actually is.

"Not Nebraska." Thomas says with a hushed laugh. "I don't want to be anywhere near my family."

"I hear Costa Rica's nice." Johnny says, but his jaw is tight, his gaze locked on the witches deliberating our verdict.

"What about Denver?" Chase asks. "I've never been good with new languages. And there's that adage about old dogs and new tricks."

I would laugh, but Johnny and Thomas straighten, and I know that deliberation is over.

"You are found not-guilty by a vote of twenty-seven to one." She straightens her shoulders and I see Martha glaring at us from behind her.

No need to guess who our guilty vote was from.

"But know, we will be watching you."

I nod, and then, "Do you watch all of the witches who have left the Coven's immediate surrounds?"

Renée's spine straightens. Perhaps she wasn't expecting a continuation.

But if the coven can put me on trial, I can turn it right back around on them.

"Aphrodite Lourdes has taken up residence—"

"She is not the one on trial here." Her mother has taken a step forward, but another witch holds her back.

"I am aware of that. However, as a member of this coven, it is my duty to bring any concerns I have regarding solitary witches close to you."

"And what concerns do you have over Aphrodite? A witch that, as you say, no longer belongs to the coven."

"Upon moving to town, she has placed a tracking barrier around it to trace the movements of any other witch into or out of what she considers to be her territory."

"And you think you've claim to the whole town?"

"Of course not. Neither I nor the witches that already lived in the town have ever claimed it to be ours alone. However, the tracking spell is not the only concern I have. She is placing warnaways in the shape of dolls around the town. Their purpose is unclear. She continues to consort with a vampire whose intentions are also unknown… And I believe she plans to start a coven of her own."

A witch in the back snorts a laugh and this time, Martha turns sharply back to her. "That is nonsense. She agreed to the terms when she was released from the coven."

Renée looks at me for a long moment, as if trying to read my intent. "Thank you for bringing these concerns to our attention. We will consider them, and act accordingly."

I nod, knowing that it will probably mean that an impartial inquisitor is sent to evaluate the situation and talk to Aphrodite herself.

Fine by me.

With a flutter of her hand, Renée turns and sweeps through the crowd of witches.

Some of them follow, others linger.

Elaria runs over to me in a flutter of velvet and throws her arms around me, knocking her hood off and revealing her bright red hair. "It's ridiculous! You have to be summoned to trial for me to see you in person?"

"You can always come visit."

Elaria snorts a laugh and rolls her eyes.

"Introduce me, quick." She glances over her shoulder at my mother, making her way slowly to us.

"This is Joshua, Thomas, Johnny, and Chase. Guys, this is Elaria, or Elle. My best friend in the whole world."

She looks them over as if trying to make a decision and then nods. "I approve."

"Never had a doubt."

She makes a clucking noise with her tongue and then turns her attention back to them. "It's nice to meet you. I have a thousand questions. And no time to ask them."

"I'm sure we'll see you again." Thomas says, as the others look a little concerned.

She nods. "Often, I'm sure."

"Elle tends to come down to visit every month or two. So she'll be around."

Nodding, Elaria starts to say something, but her mouth snaps shut as my mother joins us. "Congratulations on surviving the ordeal."

"If we hadn't… several of you wouldn't either."

"I know you're mad." My mother studies Chase's face. "And I understand. However, it had to be done. And now, barring the birth of a new witch…" This time, she looks pointedly at me. "There should be no reason for you to have to be witnessed by the full coven."

I ignore the comment. "We should go before the newer, more curious witches get brave enough to come talk to me and realize I'm not the fallen witch their mothers have warned them about."

"You're staying with me tonight." Elaria hooks her arm in mine and she says it to my mother, not to me, but I'm the one who answers.

"I know. If you hadn't invited, I would have crashed."

"I'm sure you'd be more comfortable in the guest house."

"I'm not ready to subject them to dad yet."

"He will demand to meet them, eventually." She sighs and looks at the opening in the circle others were still leaving through. "If he hadn't gone to Alaska to deal with his brother, he would have been here tonight."

"Luckily, we didn't need his vote." Joshua says.

His voice is calm, but I know he won't relax until we're out of here.

"The voting was just a formality." My mother sighs. "They wanted to get a good look at you, they wanted you to know how many of us there are, and Renée wanted to use the opportunity to announce your existence to the rest of the coven. It would have gotten out eventually, this was what she considered an efficient way to go about it."

I see a few of the other witches inching their way toward us. If they make it to us, we'll be stuck here for hours.

"We need to go. Now." I say it with a smile on my face so they don't hurry to catch us.

Elaria nods, spins me toward the entrance we came through and tells the guys to "follow us."

But she doesn't take the path we came from. She takes a branch that was hidden from the other direction, and we come up into a speak-easy type bar.

She opened it five years ago, despite side eyes from the older generation, and it's been killing it ever since.

Never had any doubts.

But we don't stay there. It's going to be way too crowded once the clock strikes over to nine.

She stashes her cloak and grabs her purse. "See you at the house?"

"I still remember how to get there."