Chapter 21

Evie

Barataria Preserve, Marrero, Louisiana

C ole didn’t let go of her hand once while she helped clean up the area and reset the barrier spells to correct the damage caused by his entry. Even when the coven elders were giving him pointed glares and scared younger witches were crying when they saw him, he held her hand through it all. He seemed determined to see everything in their home, his eyes excited as they took in the uniquely styled living quarters, the orbs overhead—which had calmed from the blood-red scarlet hue to an orange glow that reminded her of the sunset—the roaring fire. No matter how much he looked at everything around them, though, his eyes always came back to her, his gaze almost a physical touch each time it landed on her. He kept up a low-level of commentary the entire time: seeing the youngest of the red witches playing with fire magic elicited an alarmed “holy contributing to the delinquency of minors Batman,” whereas the sight of her home high in the canopy above them drew a worshipful, “goddamn” from him as he crowded into her, his semi-hard length pressed against her stomach while he swept a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb lingering against her cheek.

Eventually, everything was set more or less back to rights. Sandrine easily got over her initial fear of Cole after she heard him humming tunelessly and was now following them closely. “So who are you?” she demanded from her place by Evie’s elbow.

Evie heard something that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle come from the man at her side, but, when she looked over, Cole’s face was serious.

“I’m Cole.” He reached out the hand not holding hers to her little coven sister. “And who might you be?”

“I’m Sandrine. Evie’s favorite sister.” Sandrine placed her hands on her hips, pointedly not shaking his hand, and drew herself to her full height of a little under five feet, a stern expression on her face. “I’m her protector.”

Cole nodded, dropping his extended hand without a word or any sign of awkwardness. “I’m sure you’re very good at it.” At Sandrine’s sharp look at where Evie’s fingers were tangled with his, he added, “I’m not going to hurt her, Sandrine. I would rather destroy myself than do that.” He squeezed Evie’s hand, almost as if he were trying to reassure her of the truth of what he was saying.

It seemed that Evie wasn’t the only one who melted in the face of the man beside her because Sandrine’s look became a little less harsh under Cole’s sincerity. “Please promise me you’ll take care of her,” her coven sister whispered. “She’s all I have.”

“Sandrine,” Evie scolded lightly. “You have the rest of the coven too.”

“Yeah, but everyone else treats me like I’m annoying or silly,” her beloved sister responded, eyes glassy with unshed tears. “You’re the only one who doesn’t.”

Evie swallowed against the lump in her throat, tugging Sandrine into her side and resting her cheek against the girl’s braids. Tears were blurring her vision at the damage—however unintentional it may have been—that the coven did to people they viewed as other, but she could still see Cole step out from beside her and kneel down in front of Sandrine. Even kneeling, he was barely shorter than Sandrine.

“Sandrine, I promise you,” Cole said, voice grave and eyes unwavering on her sister’s. “That I won’t let any harm come to Evie, and I won’t hurt her. She will always be safe with me.”

Sandrine nodded, dashing away the tears running down her face, before lunging at Cole, wrapping her thin arms around his neck in a hug.

“Sandrine!” Hesteia shouted, and Sandrine jumped away from Cole like she had been slapped. “Get away from him!”

Her coven sister walked meekly to the coven elder, who shooed her away to the safety of the red witches’ living quarters.

Evie glanced around, noticing that, sometime in the last several minutes, the clearing had emptied of everyone but her, Cole, the coven elders, and Cassandra, the coven’s seer. Everyone’s eyes were locked on her and Cole, their expressions ranging from intrigued to murderous.

Cole tugged her to him, one hand wrapped possessively around her waist.

Hesteia’s lip curled at the gesture, but otherwise she didn’t respond. “Shall we sit?” she asked politely, gesturing to the benches surrounding the fire.

They gathered around the fire, the coven elders and Cassandra on one side, Cole and Evie facing them. Before Evie could sit, though, Cole gathered her in his arms, settling her into his lap.

This time it seemed Hesteia couldn’t help herself. “You know she's capable of sitting on her own rear, don’t you?” Beside her, Thea tutted at her wife in displeasure. “No, Thea, Evie was fine without this man, but now he thinks he has a right to her.”

Evie glared at the red witch. “How dare you presume to know what’s best for me?” she hissed, her words dripping with venom. “When you’ve been lying to me all my life.”

Hesteia’s face fell. “I—I—I don’t know what you mean,” the usually composed witch stammered.

“Don’t insult me by lying more,” Evie snapped. “I know who I am. I’ve seen the records. I know that you took me from at least one loving parent who was looking for me.” Her gaze narrowed on Chloe. “Chloe all but confirmed it earlier. I want to know why.”

Chloe was curled in on herself, looking more frail than Evie had ever seen her, when she raised her eyes to Evie. “Darling, I know this must be… difficult.”

Evie shook her head angrily. “I appreciate the attempt at sympathy, really I do, but let me just say that you have no idea how I’m feeling. In the last 24 hours, I’ve left the forest, found out I have a history you all never saw fit to share with me, discovered that the elders took me from a father who wanted me, and am capable of using magic on a level I never dreamed of.” The air hung heavy around them as she came to the end of her list. “Before Cole arrived, you were going to tell me something, Chloe. What was it?”

“Speaking of Cole,” Hesteia interrupted. “Could somebody please tell us who this man is to you and why he is here?”

Cole’s head swung sharply towards the witch, but Evie responded before he could jump in with a profane rejoinder that would undoubtedly include some combination of the words “fuck” and “you.” “No, I don’t think we will, Hesteia. On the topics we need to discuss this evening, the man who came to find me and wants nothing more than to protect me isn’t even at the top of the list. You know what is?” Although Evie’s voice shook, it still rang clearly across the clearing. “My life. You've all hidden far too much from me for years. I want to know who I am. I want to know how you found me alone but somehow also didn’t kidnap me. I want to know everything including why you all treated me with kid gloves, like I was a danger to the coven.”

“My darling,” Chloe whispered. “We never—we never wanted to treat you like you were any different than any of our sisters.”

“Chloe, that doesn’t tell me anything,” Evie said coolly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a proud, fond smile tilt the corners of Cole’s mouth. That one small expression gave her the push she needed to continue. “And while you may not have meant to treat me like I was different, you did, and you know it. I’ve known all my life that the coven treated me oddly, that it meant I wasn't like others in the coven, even disregarding everything else that you all have done.” Beside her, she felt Cole turn slightly, squinting at her. “And whenever I confronted any of you about it, you all dismissed it. I need to know the truth. I deserve to know the truth.”

Chloe lowered her head slowly, a tear rolling down her cheek. “You’re right. But, Evie, it’s not—it’s not a happy tale, my dear. Your early years were… tragic. We found you when we were sourcing food… ”