by Jasmine Walt
Thelia shrugged. “Some are, some aren’t. And most of the ones who live in Salem itself don’t have true magic—they believe they do, of course, but their rituals and talismans rarely hold much power. There are a few real witches here, but they mostly keep to themselves. It is not usual, but some of our kind prefer to work alone instead of taking the protection of a coven.”
“I can understand that,” I said, nodding slowly. My parents had run from their coven, after all, which made me feel wary about the idea of them. What was the point of joining a coven for protection if they didn’t have your best interests at heart?
By the time the waiter came back to take our orders, my opinion on Thelia had shifted. Perhaps all those questions about me was just her trying to be friendly and polite. From what I could gather, she seemed to be easy going. An open book, even.
The waiter took our orders without writing them down, then gathered our menus and left. Thelia lifted a hand and spoke some words I didn’t understand, then snapped her fingers. A faint glow emanated from the tips of her fingers, and tingles spread down my arms as I sensed her magic at work.
“There,” she said, sitting back into her side of the booth. “Now we don’t have to worry about anyone eavesdropping on our conversation.”
“That’s good.” I relaxed a little at that. I had been wondering why Thelia had picked such a busy restaurant to meet, but I guess having magic at your disposal solved most things. “So, how do you know my parents?”
“I didn’t know your father incredibly well, but your mother and I were like sisters. We were in the same coven. We practically grew up together.”
“The same coven?” I recoiled at that, anger igniting in my veins. “So you’re saying that your coven is the one my parents ran away from, in order to protect me?”
“It isn’t like that—”
“Like hell,” I said, forcing my voice to stay even. I would keep my cool—I’d resolved to that—but I was leaving. So much for thinking Thelia could be trusted. “I’ve had enough of this conversation. Goodbye, Thelia.”
“Wait!” Thelia grabbed my wrist. “Let me explain—”
At her sudden unwelcome touch, power swelled in my chest, and ice crackled up the hand she grabbed me with. Her eyes widened as it began traveling up her arm. Horrified at my unintentional attack, I wrenched my hand from her grasp and mentally clamped down on the energy flowing out of me. Instantly, the flow of ice stopped, right at the top of her shoulder.
Perhaps bottling up my anger wasn’t the best solution.
“Wow.” Thelia let out a slow breath, then touched her arm with her free hand. A warm glow emitted from her palm, and the ice slowly began to melt away. Respect glimmered in her eyes as she looked up at me, but there was a hint of reproach as well. “You are powerful. But you need to learn to control your powers before you accidentally hurt someone. We could teach you.”
I scoffed. “Receive training from the coven who wanted to enslave me? I don’t think so.”
“Brooke, please.” Thelia’s eyes pleaded with me. “Just sit down for a moment and let me explain. It isn’t like that at the Daire Coven anymore.”
I should have just walked out and never looked back. How could I possibly trust this woman, considering what I already knew about her coven? But if I didn’t at least attempt to explore other options, then I would be stuck with Maddock. And I wasn’t sure putting all my eggs in his basket was the smartest idea.
“Fine.” I lowered myself into the seat just as the server returned with our food. My stomach rumbled as he set down my plate of smoked haddock and mashed potatoes. Thelia’s shrimp scampi didn’t look too bad either. He topped off her glass of wine and my Arnold Palmer, then left us in peace.
“The warlock in charge of our coven died about ten years ago,” Thelia said as she got to work on her food. She speared a shrimp with her fork, then proceeded to twirl pasta around the prongs. “He was in charge for several hundred years, but quite a few of us did not agree with some of his more bloodthirsty ways. Darcia Lacey, one of our coven mothers, challenged him in a fight to the death. And won. She rules with a much steadier hand than her predecessor.”
“Right.” I wasn’t sure if I should believe that, but the idea that the man who originally wanted to enslave me was no longer alive did set me at ease, a little. If it was true. “I’m guessing your new coven leader has set her sights on me, though?”
“Well, yes.” Thelia smiled apologetically. “Mistress Darcia could hardly ignore that you almost single-handedly wiped out an entire witch coven.” Her smile turned a little sour. “We were not at all happy that band of lawless witches had taken up residence so close to our territory. But,” she added lightly, “we are very impressed, and curious, as to how you managed to get rid of them.”
“I did have some help,” I countered, even as my cheeks flushed with pleasure at the compliment.
“Ah, yes. The fae lord.” Thelia wrinkled her nose as she took another sip of wine. “A powerful ally, certainly, but he cannot teach you how to use your witch powers effectively.”
“Just as you can’t teach me how to use my fae powers,” I pointed out.
“Touché.” Thelia raised her glass to me. “In truth, another shadow would be the best teacher you could have, but they are very rare. Which is of course why you’re in such high demand,” she added with a wink. “Anyway, we realize that it would be wrong of us to take you by force and use you as a weapon. However, Mistress Darcia would like to form an alliance with you. In exchange for lending us your abilities, we would teach you how to use your witch powers. You wouldn’t even have to officially join the coven, which means you could maintain your relationship with that fae lord, if you like.”
“Really?” I wasn’t sure that Maddock would be thrilled with the idea of me forming an alliance with another coven. But he didn’t own me, so I was free to do so. If he decided he didn’t want anything to do with me after that, then it was his loss.
Except that Maddock has been teaching you how to use your shadow powers, a voice in my head reminded me. Thelia isn’t offering that.
That was true. How exactly was it that Maddock was able to teach me how to use them anyway? Was it because it was closer to fae magic? And if that was the case, was it really worth risking my…whatever I had with Maddock…for an alliance that may or may not be good for me?
Despite my skepticism, my temper had cooled enough for me to realize I needed to think this through before making a decision. My instincts in the supernatural world were shaky compared to my instincts where humans were concerned, so I needed to at least slow down enough to hear Thelia out.
“What exactly does the Daire Coven want my abilities for?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. It would be dumb of me to make an alliance with them, only to find out that I couldn’t or wouldn’t do whatever it was they asked of me.
“I’m not at liberty to say.” Thelia hid her expression behind a quick sip of her drink. “However, Mistress Darcia would be happy to go over the details when you come to meet her.”
“I see.” That made a certain amount of sense. I would rather hear it out of the horse’s mouth anyway, before I made any kind of decision. “When does she want to meet?”
Excitement lit Thelia’s eyes. “So you’ve decided you want to meet with her, then?”
“Not officially,” I said, holding up a hand. “I need to think about it a bit more. But maybe when you see her again, you can ask her to come up with a good date.”
“I certainly shall.” Thelia smiled. “In the meantime, let’s enjoy our dinner, shall we?”
I smiled back. “We shall.”
For now, I would enjoy the meal out and the company of a supernatural who, at least on the surface, actually appeared to enjoy my company. But once I was home, I would need to figure out what would be the cost of such an alliance.
Chapter 10
After dinner, I stepped out into the brisk night air. I was in a surprisingly good mood for some
one who had just had dinner with a possible enemy. Thelia might be a witch, and her coven might have been after me at some point, but she’d been refreshingly normal compared to the company I’d been keeping these days. Spending time with her tonight made me realize I needed a girl’s night out in the worst way.
I was just about to round the corner onto Church Street when a hand came out of nowhere and yanked me into an alley. I twisted into my attacker and drove my knee into his gut, trying to dislodge him. He let out a grunt, but my knee didn’t do much—he wasn’t tall, but he was stocky and broad-shouldered beneath his hooded jacket, and he drove me up against the wall like I weighed nothing. My head rattled as it knocked against the brick wall, and panic shot through me. This guy had moved ridiculously fast, and his bulk was pressing me so tightly against the wall that I couldn’t reach for my guns.
“Quit struggling!” Captain Randall’s voice growled from within the hood, and I was so shocked that I froze. “I’m not here to hurt you!”
“Captain?” I gasped. A wave of anger surged through me, giving me renewed strength. I tensed, about to lift my foot and stomp on his shin, but Randall spoke some strange words. Tingles raced up and down my spine, and suddenly I was unable to move.
“There,” Randall said, sounding satisfied and relieved all at once. He stepped back from me and lowered his hood, revealing his blocky head. “You’re one tough bitch, Chandler. I’ll give you that.”
“What the fuck is this?” I snarled, pushing back my panic as best I could. It was hard, though, when I was at the mercy of this bastard. “You’re a warlock, Captain?”
“That’s right,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he regarded me. “And you and your fae boyfriend wiped out my entire coven not too long ago. What do you think that makes you and I, Chandler?”
Enemies, I thought, though I didn’t say it aloud. I’d always suspected that Captain Randall was an enemy—at the very least he’d proven he was no friend of mine. But though I’d recently begun to suspect that Randall was in league with Father James, I hadn’t actually considered he might be a warlock. Randall had never set off the strange inner sense I had that could pick up magical signatures.
“What do you want?” I demanded. “Did you corner me in this alley for some kind of payback?” Just how did he think that would work out for him?
Randall bared his teeth at me. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” He raked my body with a lecherous gaze that made my skin crawl. “But no, I’m not stupid. Maddock Tremaine would kill me if I laid a hand on you.”
“Then shouldn’t you be afraid for your life right now?” I asked. “You did just slam me up against a wall, and now you’re holding me here against my will. Even without Tremaine, Internal Affairs would have a field day with this one.”
“I doubt you’ll be telling him or anyone else about this.” Randall wagged a finger at me. “See, I’m the one who planted those clues in Miss Bennett’s house. I’m the one who set that spell with the warning message for you. And I’m prepared to reveal the truth to poor Detective Baxter if you try anything funny. After all, he deserves to know who killed his brother, don’t you think?”
I fucking knew it.
“You bastard!” I yelled, struggling against the spell. To my surprise, my right leg shot forward, and Randall had to jump back to avoid getting kicked in the jewels.
“Well, well,” he said, his eyebrows arched in surprise. “You’re quite a handful. My spell isn’t going to last very long against you, I can see that much, so I’ll make this quick. A source of mine told me they saw you chatting with Thelia Sorensen from the Daire Coven the other night, and that the two of you might be meeting. So I followed you here on a hunch, and watched you guys from across the street. She would have had me with her little conversation cloaking spell, but a quick download of the department’s lip reading app on my phone, and I was able to follow your entire conversation.”
“That’s fucked up.” A chill shot down my spine at the knowledge that Randall had managed to track me without me realizing it. He was obviously a better detective than I’d thought, or else he’d somehow managed to cover his tracks magically without alerting my senses. “That conversation was none of your business.”
“Give me a break.” Randall rolled his eyes. “I’m not interested in your quest to find your parents or any of that crap. I just want you to accept the invitation to join the coven, and I want you to bring me with you.”
“Why?” I gaped at him. Randall actually wanted to be in a coven with me? Was he out of his mind? We couldn’t stand each other!
Randall’s face reddened. “Because I have no coven anymore! I’m completely without protection, and I have enemies of my own. I need a new coven, and since it’s your fault mine is gone, you’re going to help me get into a new one.”
“Like hell I am!” I snapped, renewing my efforts to break free from the spell. I could feel it starting to loosen, but I still couldn’t move from the wall. “You and your coven tried to kill me and take my power. I’m not helping you.”
“Fine,” Randall said, shrugging. “I’ll just tell Detective Baxter the truth, then. And I’ll also make sure to send a bad evaluation back to your precinct along with you. I’m sure your captain will be really interested to learn how rude you were to me, and how much of our department time and resources you’ve wasted.”
Asshole. I leveled a death glare at him, but he only gave me a smug smile in return. He had me by the short hairs, and he knew it. I couldn’t just let him tell Baxter—the poor guy had been through enough, and he didn’t deserve to be dragged into all this. And even though I wasn’t ready to go back to my job in Chicago yet, I hadn’t ruled it out yet. If Randall sent me back to Chicago with a negative evaluation, it could hurt my career prospects. My captain had called the other day to check in on me and I’d assured him I was making progress and things were going fine. I couldn’t afford for him to think otherwise.
“Will you promise me that you will never tell Baxter about what happened to Father James?” I asked, ceasing my struggles for the moment. “If I get you into the Daire Coven?”
“I give you my word,” Randall said, his voice surprisingly solemn. There was a weight to his statement, as if giving his word held real meaning. He must be really serious about needing a new coven.
“All right. I’ll do it,” I lied. In reality, I would go to the meeting with the Daire Coven Mistress and see what she had to say, and if I liked them well enough, convince them to help me get rid of Randall. There was no way I would be joining up with a coven that he was in.
“Good. You’ve got one week. And don’t even think of trying any funny business,” he warned even as he began to turn away. “If I find out that you bad mouthed me to them, or something like that, I’ll deliver on my promise. You can count on that.”
And with that, he disappeared, leaving me to contemplate how fucked I was while I waited out this stupid spell in the cold, bitter darkness.
Chapter 11
The next evening, I found myself sitting on the couch, watching Buffy re-runs, eating tomato-basil thin crust pizza and sulking over what my life had become. It seemed like everyone I knew was trying to blackmail me. Maddock wouldn’t teach me unless I let him borrow my powers to find these stupid artifacts. The Morrigan was going to kill Uncle Oscar unless I handed said artifacts over to her. And now Captain Randall was threatening to tell Baxter the truth about his “brother” and get me sent back home.
Didn’t anyone know how to ask for things nicely anymore? Like with a please and thank you? Maybe some chocolate and flowers? Or a nice back massage…preferably one not just being used to get something else from me? What happened to human decency and kindness?
None of these people are human.
I snorted as I reached into the pizza box sitting on my coffee table for another slice. That was a good point. As I bit into the hot, cheesy pizza, my phone buzzed again. I glanced over to where it sat on the couch cushion next to me and ro
lled my eyes. Maddock Tremaine, the screen flashed. Again.
No thank you.
Turning my attention back to the television, I let the call roll over to voicemail. I knew if I looked back at my screen, it would show twelve missed calls from him. All within the last three hours. He’d started calling me late this afternoon while I was at work, and he hadn’t let up. Persistent bastard.
The phone started buzzing yet again, and I seriously considered shutting it off. Or maybe tossing it into the toilet. I didn’t care how many times Maddock called—I wasn’t answering anyone tonight. I was in a bad mood, and I wanted to be left alone.
Tingles broke out across my skin, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up as magic hummed in the air. The next thing I knew, Maddock was standing before me, a hulking wall of well-dressed muscle between me and my pizza. And man, did he look pissed.
“Why the feck aren’t ye answerin’ ma bloody damn phone calls!” he snarled, his Scottish accent thicker than normal. The air around us superheated, and I suddenly found it hard to breathe beneath the weight of his anger. “I’ve been tryin’ ta reach ye fer hours!”
“Yes, I know,” I told him, digging my nails into the couch cushions as my headache spiked again. His eyes were snapping green fire, and there was a vein pulsing in his temple. I’d never seen him so incensed. “Maybe you should have taken the hint and stopped calling after the first three times.”
“Yer under ma protection,” Maddock growled. His fists were clenched at his sides, and the look in his eyes told me he was strongly considering wrapping them around my throat. “I cannae just ignore it if ye dinnae answer ma calls. I thought ye were hurt, or in some kind of danger. Instead I find ye sittin’ here in yer bleedin’ pajamas, stuffing yer face with pizza.”
Any warm fuzzy feelings that might have started when he’d said he was worried about my life disappeared instantly. “I’m sorry to disappoint you,” I said icily. “Now can you please move? You’re blocking the TV.”