by Holly Ice
Vision gone, I stared into Shane’s eyes.
He was watching me, propped on his arms. ‘You saw something.’
I nodded. ‘The moment you got my phone message, you rushed to help.’ My voice broke at the end. This was what he hadn’t said on the doorstep. The moment I’d told him how I felt, he’d come for me.
He kissed my cheek. ‘I should have come earlier.’
And then he pressed his lips to mine, his hands tugging my hair, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside me, nudging me closer and closer to the cliff. Sweat coated us, each thrust slick. I grabbed his shoulders and dug in my nails as I cried his name. And I sank my teeth into his shoulder. I was close. So close.
‘Faster, please.’
Shane did what I asked, and I was undone. Waves and waves of pleasure rolled over me, and I clenched around Shane’s cock. He came, too, and I groaned anew.
The way down from that high was long and slow. I breathed hard into his shoulder as my lungs adjusted, and kissed all down his collarbone.
‘Thank you. For coming back.’
He’d get hell for supporting me.
‘I’m not leaving you again.’ He kissed my nose.
‘I don’t want you to.’
* * *
I woke to a soft knock and blinked against sleep to find the door opening.
‘Bee? You can’t stay in here all day. Food’s almost ready.’
I glanced across the pillows to see Shane sitting in bed, the covers draped over his now boxered arse, while I was naked. Déjà vu much? I pulled the covers to my collarbone and held them there as the door swung open to reveal us in all our post-sex rufflement.
Finn appraised us, eyebrows raised, then crossed his arms. ‘So, this is Shane. I can see why you moped. Made up now, hmmm?’
‘Shut up, Finn.’ I’d have chucked a pillow at him but I was worried Shane might yank the covers away. He had that playful sparkle to his eye as he assessed Finn. The two of them would be the death of me.
‘We settled our differences.’ Shane kissed the top of my head. ‘Believe it or not, this is the second time we’ve been walked in on this month. Must say, I prefer your approach.’
My cheeks heated, but I couldn’t escape in my undressed state, only watch them enjoy my awkwardness. May as well introduce the bastards. ‘Finn, this is Shane. Shane, Finn.’
Finn sighed. ‘He’s completely straight, right?’
Shane nodded. ‘Sorry.’
I groaned. ‘Can you leave so I can get dressed?’
Finn pointed between the two of us. ‘Fine. But don’t think we won’t ask about this at dinner. Shane is our guest of honour. No bailing on us, either of you.’
Shane put up his hands in mock surrender. ‘I’d never do that to Bianca’s friends.’
‘Then welcome to the family! And for the record, I think you’re good for her. Look at her, squirming, dealing with her feelings. We haven’t got her close to that in years.’ He swept from the room, leaving my mouth open like a bloody goldfish.
Shane stroked my neck, snapping me out of it, but that damned gleeful sparkle was back. This time, I didn’t grab hold of the covers fast enough. He yanked them from me and took them with him across the room. But when he dropped them to the floor, his eyes were all for me, looking over every inch of my body. And I couldn’t help but reciprocate.
‘I think I really like you.’
‘And I really, really like you.’ He stalked towards me.
I put up my hand before he rolled me back into bed. ‘Stop. Where’s my jumper? Finn will come back for an eyeful of bum and boobs if we don’t hurry.’
Shane laughed and stooped, showing his wonderfully curved bum to my hungry eyes. He scrunched my jumper and threw it at me.
‘Thanks. Now find your clothes, or I’ll risk Finn walking in on us again.’
Despite my half threats, we changed in less than five minutes.
Finn had been busy. He’d moved the kitchen table into the centre of the room, lined the chairs with cushions, and set our plates and cutlery like a posh Christmas dinner, minus the crackers.
‘You guys weren’t kidding about treating him like a guest of honour, huh?’ I slid into one of the two spare chairs and left the end chair for Shane, who pulled it out and sat, nodding at my housemates without a hint of embarrassment.
‘I’m Shane, Bee’s… friend.’ He squeezed my thigh under the table. ‘Can we make it official yet?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Fine.’ But inside, I was brimming with happiness.
Shane lifted his wine glass. ‘Then a toast, to me and Bee!’
‘Isn’t it bad luck to toast yourself?’ I muttered.
Everyone else ignored me, lifting their glasses.
Rhea nudged me, until I sighed and clinked glasses. Her glass wobbled when she put it down. She was a brilliant cook but tended to drink while she was prepping, and the red to her cheeks suggested today was no exception. ‘I, for one, am glad someone got through Bee’s shell. It’s worth a little heartache and moody hermit syndrome to see her like this.’
They do realise I’m still in the room, right?
They’re trying to be nice.
And, as I looked around the table at Rhea making small talk about my mopiest moments and Finn commenting on how Shane was such a good catch, I basked in the feeling of belonging. All three of them drove me mental, but they cared, and they wanted to see me happy. That meant everything.
Chapter 21
The flat’s intercom buzzed at eight in the morning the day before my inquest hearing. At least they were punctual.
I checked I’d packed everything important in my suitcase and purse. Shane didn’t have the same obsessive need to ensure he had everything for the dozenth time. He simply slung his backpack over his shoulder and floated the books behind us.
Finn sauntered into the hallway, still in his slippers and pyjamas. He opened his arms and hugged me. ‘I’ll miss you.’ He patted Shane’s back, then returned to me. ‘Now, go give that fancy school all you’ve got.’
We hadn’t told him what I’d face on my way back, but somehow his advice hit the mark all the same. ‘I will. Say goodbye to Rhea for me.’
Andris waited on the doorstep outside.
A man I hadn’t met pushed off the wall beside Andris, almost giving me a heart attack. Must be his watch partner.
I nodded, but Andris only spun the keys around his finger. Where Justin softened, Andris hadn’t.
Shane stuffed our books and bags in the boot. I buckled my seatbelt and took out my phone. No updates from Justin on the state of play, but Cameron was meeting us at the coven hearing.
‘Is Justin on a mission?’ I asked. The radio silence frazzled my nerves. If he wasn’t busy, it could be bad news. He’d be sure to say if things were going better than he thought.
Andris started the engine and turned onto the main road.
His partner looked through the spelled barrier. ‘Why isn’t she in handcuffs?’
‘Because she’s under watch, not arrest,’ Shane said, putting his arm around me.
‘So far,’ the new man said.
‘A delightful journey awaits us,’ I muttered.
Shane checked his phone. ‘Hopefully Justin’s already there, organising your witnesses.’
It wasn’t what we’d planned. He’d promised to update me as much as he could so I knew what I’d walk into. I bit my lip and rang his number, but the line rang until it hit voice mail. If he didn’t show up, I had maybe a fifty percent chance of this going to trial.
* * *
Andris pulled into the parking lot at the WMCF headquarters in Cesvaine, but it wasn’t the quiet town it usually was. People lined the streets, their animal and human familiars marking them as witches. A few people bent and threw stones as we approached. They ricocheted off the windows but weren’t big enough to smash the glass. My heart jumped, and not just at the spray of stones. Justin should have told me it’d be this bad. Where was he?
<
br /> ‘Is this normal?’ The road had no WMCF cordon or magical fencing. Not even a bit of tape to mark the area I’d walk through. We were completely exposed.
‘You’re lucky it’s not worse,’ Andris said.
Shane glared at the crowds. ‘They’ve been stirred into this state.’
Justin said McKee and other powerful families were demanding the most severe punishment for me, no matter the facts. But this went further. This crowd was an angry mob, baying for blood. My blood. Those chanting near the doors were loud enough for me to pick out words. ‘Kill the Wildes bitch’ was popular, and ‘lock her up’.
If this crowd got their hands on me, I’d get more than bruises, but I couldn’t hide in the car forever. I had to cross the car park into the building, and those ten or twenty metres felt like miles.
Our guards exited the car and pushed the witches back, enough for Shane to open my door. I didn’t want to go out there, but if I didn’t, the guards would drag me out, and that looked worse.
The moment I stepped out, the crowd threw more stones. I ducked and closed my eyes to avoid a shard to the eye. Ouch. I rubbed out grit and dust but still couldn’t open the eye. It stung and watered like a tap. And I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Hundreds of witches were here. If they charged past Andris and his partner, I was dead.
Shane shielded my head and back and hurried me to the door. But that meant he got pebbles to the back of the head. How could this arrangement be acceptable? This wasn’t the Middle Ages, and we were right outside the WMCF headquarters. Couldn’t they do better than this? Or didn’t they care?
‘Stop hurting him. Shane hasn’t done anything!’ I yelled.
Shane closed the entrance door behind us. A last spray of rocks hit the wood and clattered onto the ground. Our guards backed up, almost to us, but we had a few seconds of privacy. I traced a jagged cut along Shane’s cheek. Those arseholes would pay for this.
He held my hand. ‘It’s nothing.’
I huffed but didn’t get to say anything. Our guards were back, locking the door behind them.
‘This way,’ Andris said, leading us deeper into the blank white corridors.
I didn’t need to be told to leave that crowd behind.
Our steps echoed along the empty hallways, but mumbles from the rooms we passed told me this was still a working HQ. Yet, with a mob outside their doors, they’d only sent two people to escort me inside. That showed how much they valued my safety. They’d wanted me to go through that. To be scared and hurting. I rubbed harder at my injured eye until I could look through it despite the slight sting. Then I checked my blouse and trousers were in good condition. Best to be presentable…
Two turns later, we stood in front of large wooden doors, much like those inside the academy. A loud rumble came from inside as people talked and, presumably, found their seats. But Andris didn’t wait for us to collect ourselves. He twisted the knob and pushed open the doors.
Everyone sank into their seats. Thirteen witches stared at me from the back of the room, sitting behind a curved table, separated from the public seats by a large floor, empty except for the island-like witness stand.
Heart pounding, I studied each of the coven members. Some glared or refused eye contact. Others acted bored. We’d researched the coven before we left, but no one else in the public area was familiar, so they must be keeping potential witnesses isolated.
The doors clanked shut behind us. Our guards were gone. But Shane was still by my side. I looked at all the staring, accusing eyes and took a deep breath. The sooner I got this over with, the sooner I could tell them all to fuck off.
I gave Shane a limp smile. ‘Showtime.’
He walked with me down the central aisle and turned onto the front pew. The witches sitting there couldn’t move away fast enough, so he easily cleared a space behind the stand. And he never once took his eyes off me. Neither did anyone else, but having Shane here made me feel safer.
I opened through the aisle gate and climbed the steps to the enclosed witness stand.
The central coven member then stood. Tibor Sabol. He was one of the older ones, balding with a short grey beard. He’d led the coven for the last ten years.
He adjusted his stance. ‘Members of the coven and the witch community, we’re here for the inquest into Bianca Nash, a proven descendant of the Wildes family.’ He looked over my head, into the crowd. ‘Her appearance at the academy was distressing for many of us. We thought her family were gone after the Wildes Rebels attacks.’ He cleared his throat and met my eyes.
A studied boredom lingered in his gaze, but I didn’t believe it. His family lost three people in those attacks, and one was the familiar standing behind him.
‘Bianca Nash is the first witness and the defendant for this fact-finding hearing. Do you have anything you wish to admit to?’
I laid my hands on the stand’s grainy wood. Its solidity grounded me. But I knew what to say. Shane and I had gone over it a couple hundred times in Edinburgh.
‘I didn’t know who my witch ancestors are.’ Mutters ran through the pews behind me, but I pushed on. ‘The academy librarian will tell you I asked for ancestry books to find my family. Kaylee Spenser saw me reading them.’ I took a breath. This was the more difficult bit. ‘What Kaylee didn’t ken, was that shortly after joining the academy, I witnessed Shane McKee and his friend, Cameron Murphy, reporting on throwback witches to strangers on campus. Later, I caught them searching the head’s office. I confronted them and learned that they had good reason. They were working for Justin Holt as part of an undercover operation into the increase in throwback numbers across the witch community.’
The public’s mutters increased in volume, but Tibor waved them back to quiet. ‘Continue.’
‘It’s why Cameron, Shane, and I collected blood and other DNA samples from throwback students. A WMCF technician then compared them to their database to find out if they all came from the same witch family.’
‘And did they?’ the lead coven member asked.
‘No. They came from a mixture of families, mainly the most influential.’
‘So it could be down to chance.’
‘No. The numbers went well beyond chance. Their statistician confirmed it, and so did the accompanying rise in fae attacks on throwback witches.’
He inclined his head, but I saw the clench to his jaw. ‘Then it is a shame Justin is not here to corroborate your claims.’
I bit my tongue. Something must be wrong. ‘He agreed to testify for me. Maybe work took him away? You could start with Shane and Cameron instead.’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
What did he expect me to do, magic Justin out of thin air? ‘I’m sure if you speak to the WMCF, they could contact Justin and ask him to speak via video link. Or you could find the technician and the others who knew about the operation.’
Tibor’s neck gained colour, from the bottom up. I looked down the line of coven members. Some pursed their lips, clenched their hands, glared. What had I said that was so wrong? Suggesting witnesses to support my story must be part of this fact-finding process, no?
‘That is not possible,’ Tibor said. ‘Because, conveniently for your absurd story, the WMCF found Justin dead two days ago, attacked on your overnight watch. His partner was lucky to survive.’
The crowd erupted. The same chants as the ones outside gained momentum. But all that noise turned to a roaring buzz in my ears.
Justin, dead? Shane looked as shocked as me. I’d seen Justin a few days ago! Talked to him… shit, the night he died. Shit, shit, shit. I took slow, deep breaths. I couldn’t freak out. I had to think this through. My plan was out the window. Someone killed Justin. Someone who wanted me out of the way before the throwback operation came into the open. Pinning me for Justin’s murder was the perfect way to do it. Witches suspected me automatically, and now they’d think anything I said was a lie.
‘Quiet please! This is a hearing. That means I need to be able to hear
my witness.’ The crowd noise decreased to a low mumble, and Tibor turned his eyes heavenward. ‘That’ll have to do. Bianca, do you have anything to say in your defence?’
‘I didn’t leave the house two nights ago.’
‘Can anyone attest to that?’
‘Shane was with me. My flatmates, too. I didn’t leave.’ I’d spoken to Justin, sure, but Shane had been right next to me when I was on the phone.
Tibor swiped his hand through the air. ‘Hardly objective witnesses.’
‘That’s all I have.’ The flat didn’t have cameras I could use.
‘Then I motion we hear from our other witnesses before Bianca returns to the stand. Agreed?’
One after the other, the coven witches agreed, and I was excused.
* * *
I held my head in my hands, tears falling down my cheeks, my breath hitched. Shane opened the door and sat beside me. He rubbed my back but he was teary, too. I sniffed. If the coven were already done with Shane, I’d be back in the stand before dinner.
‘How did it go?’ I asked.
‘They acted like I was a lovesick fool, too stupid to realise what was happening around me, going along with it to keep you happy.’
They’ll discredit the other students, too.
I know. Anything useful to contribute?
I’m thinking it through.
Perfect.
I wiped my nose. ‘Justin was my chance to get out of this hearing without a trial.’ Someone must have heard something or worked that out.
‘You don’t know that.’
‘I do. After him, you and Cameron were my best witnesses, but the coven are attacking your character, making you seem subjective so your testimony can be thrown aside. Justin’s death has blinded them if they weren’t before. They think I did it and they want to make the witness testimony suit that conclusion.’
‘But you were with me all night!’
‘Who’d believe it? They think I killed my witness so he couldn’t talk.’
‘That doesn’t make sense.’
But it did, in a horrible, dark sort of way. ‘They’ll say I pressured him, that he was going to tell the “truth” on the stand and told me so. That I killed him to keep his version quiet.’