Rebel Witch

by September Stone

  I glare at her, wanting to read her the riot act for being such a despicable being that manipulating the will of others has become habitual for her. Instead, holding my head high, I take slow, purposeful steps toward the rock. I don’t blink as I take a seat on it as far away from her as possible.

  Amusement flickers across her features. “You know, I’m actually surprised you came alone.”

  “I said I would.” If I’m honest, the thought of telling the guys I’d reached out to Mona crossed my mind only briefly, but I couldn’t imagine any further than the initial looks of shock on their faces. If I had told them I was going to meet with her, they would have objected. At best, they would have wanted to come with me; at worse, they would have left me at the cabin and gone in my stead. But Mona was clear when I contacted her earlier: if I didn’t come alone, I wouldn’t get the information I need.

  A satisfied smirk tugs at the corners of her mouth. “I’m glad to see you haven’t entirely lost the ability to do as you’re told.”

  I clench my right hand into a fist, wanting nothing more than to punch the smug look right off Mona’s face. But after indulging myself in imagining what it would feel like to hit her, I exhale and relax my fingers. “Are you going to tell me where Lillian is or not?”

  “Of course,” Mona says, taking me by surprise. “Well, almost.”

  Warning bells go off in my head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t know where Lillian is right now,” Mona says, as if the answer should be obvious. “But I know where she’ll be tomorrow night for her big announcement.”

  “How could you possibly know that? You’re not a vampire; no one would have told you.”

  Mona shakes her head. “Oh, Bryn. You still have so much to learn. It’s true; I’m not a vampire. But I have employed and worked with many of them over the years. I had to kick over a few rocks, but I finally found someone willing to part with the information.”

  I can’t suppress a snort. “For some reason, I doubt they were willing. You used your song on them, didn’t you?”

  I expect her to deny it, so when she simply shrugs and says, “Yes,” it takes a moment for my brain to start spinning again.

  “I thought you said you learned from your time as Lillian’s prisoner. You claimed you changed. But you’re the same person you’ve always been. You’re still forcing people to do whatever you want them to.”

  Mona clucks her tongue. “I have changed, but you can’t expect me to be something I’m not. I am a siren. No change of heart will turn me into something else. And, for what it’s worth, I did give each of my contacts the opportunity to tell me of their own volition. I used my song because I had to. Don’t you agree that sometimes the ends justify the means? I imagine that’s why you decided to reach out to me.”

  Her casual tone about twisting people’s wills churns my stomach. I can’t help remembering the aftermath of my interaction with the undine Thalassa, who attempted to claim my body and soul as her own—and convince me it was my choice. No one should have that kind of control over another person. “Stopping Lillian is the right thing. Getting countless people hooked on euphorium will destroy families. It’ll destroy lives.” I stop short, sighing. “I don’t know why I’m trying to explain this to you. You’re the one who created euphorium in the first place. If you hadn’t done that, none of this would be happening now.”

  Mona chuckles, shaking her head. “Oh, dear child. You can’t really think life is that simple, can you? If euphorium had never been developed, something else would fill its place. Whether you can see it or not, euphorium fills a need. Some people—like your mother—aren’t strong enough to handle things when life gets hard. They need something to help them cope—to take the edge off.”

  At her casual mention of my mother, my blood begins to boil. “My mother was plenty strong. It’s your drug that broke her. She and I could have gotten through if you hadn’t got her hooked on euphorium.”

  Mona tilts her head, scrutinizing me. “Is that really what you think happened? That I walked around from town to town tricking people into having their first taste of euphorium? I never did anything of the sort.”

  Her flippant denial stokes the flames of my anger. “Of course I know it wasn’t you out pushing the drug. But those dealers were all working for you. You’re responsible for everything they did.”

  “You’ve got it all wrong,” Mona insists.

  “Really?” I demand, springing to my feet. “You’re telling me that it was some rogue drug dealer who just happened to get my mom hooked on the drug you created?”

  “I never made anyone take euphorium,” Mona says, her voice even and calm. “Lillian is the one spiking drinks and infiltrating town fairs. She’s not giving people a choice. My euphorium dealers never resorted to such barbaric tactics. Like I said, some people aren’t strong enough to handle life. They’re searching for escape. When people are desperate enough for that kind of release, they find the dealers.” She presses her lips together like she’s debating adding more. After a few moments, she continues. “Someone like me doesn’t get their hands dirty dealing with specific addicts, but your mom was different. One of the dealers who sold to your mom had a particular talent for reading auras. It made him quite the proficient salesman—but that’s a story for another time. One day, this dealer had arranged to meet your mom somewhere different than usual—the town library. He told me his plan was to get in and out quickly, but then he caught sight of a particularly unique aura. Yours. When I learned about what an asset you could be, I made it a point to know everything about your mother—everything about her life up until that day. And it turns out, euphorium wasn’t her first habit. She started with liquor before turning to opiates. If it hadn’t been for euphorium, she probably would have overdosed long before you and I met. Your mother was weak, Bryn. She couldn’t deal with losing your father, and she couldn’t face raising you alone. So she turned to substances that would make her numb and help her forget.”

  I shake my head, wanting to insist that Mona is lying—but the words won’t come. Too much of her story rings true. My mom wasn’t the same after my dad’s death. At first she was just sad, but little by little, she became a person I didn’t recognize.

  I stumble back to the boulder and collapse back onto it. “I don’t understand how she could have done that.”

  “Of course you don’t. Strong people like us can’t wrap our minds around why weak people behave like they do.”

  I can’t keep my lip from curling. “Like us?”

  Mona smiles. “We’re not so different as you think, Bryn. I bet we have more in common than you realize.”

  I snort. “Sure. Peas in a pod.”

  “I’m only half-siren—did you know that?” Mona asks as if I hadn’t spoken. “That’s all it takes, really. The magic was passed down on my father’s side. My mother was a nom, and I doubt she knew the truth about my father—men merely carry siren magic; they can’t express it.”

  “Fascinating,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

  “He died when I was young.”

  Her words shock the annoyance from my system. My brain wants to rebel against the information, but something in her tone makes me want to believe her. It’s not her song—after her “accidental” use of the power earlier, I’m sure I would recognize if she were employing it against me now.

  She swallows hard, staring out into the shadowy forest in front of her. “My mother hooked up with the first man she could find. She always needed someone to take care of her. She was so desperate for even the illusion of security that any man would do. Even an addict who got her using every drug she could get her hands on.”

  I try to process this new information, but I can’t make the story fit into the facts I already know about Mona. But as hard as I try to twist everything together, something just doesn’t make sense. “If your mom was an addict, why would you build an empire on euphorium?”

  Mona’s face wrinkles with
confusion. “It’s like I said before: the world is made up of two types of people—the strong and the weak. Can you fathom trading your life for a drug? Of course not. Because you’re strong. But the weak will do anything to run from their difficulties—and you can’t blame me for turning that fact into a business opportunity.”

  Her words chill me to the bone. Although I certainly can blame her for exploiting people’s weaknesses for profit, part of me does see it from her point of view. If she’s boiled everything down into two distinct categories, then the strong taking advantage of the weak fits in perfectly.

  I shake my head. “I’m not like you. And I don’t want to be like you. But you’re the only chance I have to stop Lillian from destroying lives, so I’m willing to look past our differences.”

  Mona smiles, her luminous eyes flashing in the moonlight. “Well, then. Let’s figure out how to take Lillian down.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Calder

  After so many nights spent crammed between bodies and poked by errant elbows, waking on a mattress by myself should be a luxurious experience. Instead, the twin bed is cold and lonely when I wake with the morning’s first rays.

  I slip out of the room as quietly as I can, not wanting to disturb Taj, whose long, deep breaths tell me he’s still fast asleep. The door clicks closed behind me, and I pause, drinking in the stillness of the cabin. I’m the first one awake. Good. The others deserve to sleep in. Ryder stocked the cabin’s pantry shelves with supplies—perishables and nonperishables alike, and I go through a mental list of the things I recall seeing last night as I creep toward the small kitchen area. I can only hope my rustling about will be quiet enough not to wake Bryn.

  I should have paid more attention to how much wine she was drinking last night. It wasn’t until after we got up to leave the restaurant that I noticed how uncoordinated her movements had become. I hope she had enough water before she went to sleep; I’d hate for her to have to deal with a hangover with everything that’s happening.

  My gaze slides to the couch she slept on last night and I stop dead in my tracks. She’s not there.

  Convinced it’s just a trick of the light, I cross the room, staring at the cushions as if doing so might make her form materialize before my eyes. Except my proximity does nothing to change what I’m seeing. Bryn isn’t on the couch.

  My heart begins pounding against my ribs and I take in a deep breath. There has to be a reasonable explanation for her absence. Maybe she’s in the bathroom. Yes—that’s probably it. Maybe she didn’t have enough water last night and ended up asleep at the foot of the porcelain throne.

  But even as I sneak toward the bathroom door, I know that can’t be the case. The bathroom is the size of a closet, and there’s no way she could be comfortably asleep inside it.

  A quick peek behind the door confirms my doubt, ratcheting up my panic. She’s not on the couch. She’s not in the bathroom. Is it possible someone snuck into the cabin during the night to snatch her? Ryder assured us there were enchantments and wards set up to keep out intruders, but any spell can be broken. There’s a chance Lillian has spies here in Twin Rivers and someone saw us in town and followed us here. All they would have to do is wait for everyone to fall asleep and then snatch Bryn. But then, surely Poe would have heard…

  My churning thoughts stop spinning and I glance at the door to the room Silas and Poe are sharing. Maybe Bryn isn’t missing after all. Wasn’t I just thinking how lonely it was to be the only person in my bed? Perhaps Bryn couldn’t sleep last night. And it would make sense that she might find her way to Silas and Poe’s room. She only just got Poe back two days ago.

  The fist of terror that wrapped itself around my heart relaxes, and my breathing returns to normal. I curb my impulse to open the door and peek inside the room. Although I didn’t hear any telltale sounds of lovemaking last night, the wine I had with dinner had me sleeping pretty hard. I opt for leaving them all in privacy as I continue my journey toward the pantry.

  I’m nearly finished with the scrambled eggs when a bedroom door opens. Moments later, a rumpled Taj emerges, rubbing his eyes and yawning as he stumbles into the kitchen.

  “You’re up early,” he notes, the words stretching around a yawn.

  “And you’re up just in time.” I indicate a stack of plates on the counter beside the sink. “Eggs are ready. There’s also bread and jam.”

  Taj perks up at the promise of food and grabs a plate before spooning a healthy measure of eggs onto it. But he’s barely begun spreading his jam on the thick slice of bread when he stops and turns to me, his face scrunched. “Where’s Bryn?”

  “In with Poe and Silas.”

  He nods as he continues slathering the jam. “I do hope they managed to get some sleep last night. I’ve got a feeling today will be a big one.” He glances down at the unblemished skin of his left palm. “It’s tonight, you know. The full moon.”

  My gut hardens at the thought. For weeks, the growing glow of each night’s moon filled me with dread. “But Elowen broke the curse. We’re all fine.”

  He sticks the butter knife back into the jam jar. “Yeah—I’m not worried about that. It’s just... Tonight, Lillian will realize what we did. She’s expecting to take on Bryn’s affinity, and she’s not going to. She doesn’t strike me as someone who’s going to cut her losses and move on.”

  I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind, but I won’t dwell on it. “We’ll just have to take the fight to her. Lillian can’t hurt Bryn if she’s behind bars where she belongs.”

  “You heard Poe, though,” he says thoughtfully. “She’s more powerful than even the elders expected. She broke through their enchantments and almost killed them all. What prison do we have that can hold her?”

  I scrutinize him, wishing—not for the first time—that I had the ability to peer into his thoughts. “So what are you suggesting? We kill her?”

  “I’m not sure,” he says after a pause. “But we can’t let her get her hands on Bryn.”

  “The four of us won’t let anything happen to her,” I assure him. “She’ll be safe.”

  Taj holds my gaze for a long moment before nodding and picking up his plate. He settles in one of the stiff wooden chairs around the small dining room table and begins digging into his eggs.

  I’m fixing my own plate when the click of a doorknob tells me someone else has awoken. Silas trudges into view, his black hair sticking up at odd angles. For as composed a look as he puts together throughout the day, it never gets old seeing him disheveled from sleep.

  “Thank the spirits,” Silas murmurs as he lunges toward the plates.

  “You’re welcome,” I return drily as I finish spreading jam on my bread. “How’d you sleep?”

  He lifts a shoulder as he heaps two spoonfuls of eggs onto his plate. “Pretty good, all things considered, I guess.”

  The corner of my mouth quirks, and I can’t help wondering if Bryn ended up on his mattress last night. As much as I treasure holding her close as I sleep, she has the tendency to steal the covers, leaving half of my body exposed to the night air.

  Silas grabs a piece of bread but skips the jam. Instead, he piles the eggs on top of the bread and pokes through the supplies Ryder organized on the shelves until he comes up with a bottle of ketchup. To my horror, he squeezes a generous measure onto the eggs before topping them with a second slice of bread.

  “I can’t watch,” I say as he begins eating his franken-sandwich.

  “Don’t knock it till you try it,” he says around a mouthful of eggs and bread.

  I do my best to ignore him as he begins devouring his food. I catch Taj’s eye, and he grins. And for a second, it’s like I can read his mind. This is what our life is going to be like from now on. Every day will be an adventure because we won’t just learn something new about Bryn, but we’ll all grow closer to each other. I can’t help finding a degree of peace in that knowledge.

  I’m almost finished with my food and con
sidering seconds when footsteps alert me to Poe’s arrival. His short hair is more in order than the other guys’, but the triangular imprint on his face is enough to know he just rolled out of bed.

  “Were you all just going to let me sleep the day away?” he asks by way of greeting as he picks up the second to the last plate and moves to the pan of eggs.

  “We were thinking about it,” Taj says as he swallows his last bite of food. “Easier to get things done without you brooding about, isn’t it?” He offers a grin. “Where’s Bryn, then? Still asleep?”

  Poe freezes, the spoon in midair. “What do you mean? She’s out on the couch, isn’t she?”

  My earlier panic returns in full force. “I thought she was in your room.”

  “Our room?” Silas asks, setting down his plate and half-eaten sandwich abomination. “We all went to bed at the same time. She was on the couch.”

  It’s true, of course. “But I figured at some point, she got up and climbed into bed with one of you.”

  Poe sets his plate down on the counter and turns to me, his eyes hard and deadly serious. “Are you telling me,” he begins, his voice low and controlled, “that Bryn’s been missing since before you woke up? And you didn’t think to let anyone know?”

  I’d almost prefer him screaming at me. Hearing his calm voice is inexplicably more terrifying than any rage he could display. “I figured if someone broke in here to get her, you would have heard it. I didn’t think—”

  “You didn’t think, all right,” Silas snaps, striding forward like he means to sock me in the face.

  Poe steps between us, holding out his arm to keep Silas at bay. “You’re probably right. If someone had broken in, I would’ve heard them. And looking around here, nothing looks out of place, right? No windows broken? The doorjamb’s not splintered.”

  “But the door is unlocked,” Taj says from the front of the cabin. “I remember latching it before I headed to my room last night.”