But his words were drowned out by the clicking of heels against the floor.
“Nah, we got this,” replied a female voice from behind us. We turned and faced a crew of eight, all dressed in black with the exception of one. Half of them carried crossbows and looked skilled in their use and unafraid of using them. I gave a passing look to all the unfamiliar faces, and my eyes landed on one that I knew—London. A longtime friend of Josh’s who’d helped us on multiple occasions. Now she was aligned with this group of witches, which offered some comfort since she’d made an effort to stay away from Marcia and the others.
The only witch that stood out other than London was the woman who headed the group. All the others were dressed in black, and she had on all white. The pants were fitted and molded to her body, and her flouncy shirt moved with her as she strolled through the room, her heels clicking a beat.
“Well, they weren’t wrong when they said you were powerful.” The attractive stranger acknowledged Josh with a forced smile. She looked around the room, but her face remained indecipherable as she regarded the mess. Walking slowly throughout the room, she used magic to pluck the bloodstains from the floor before making them vanish. Then she moved to the bodies lying in various positions. She looked over in Josh’s direction, and then back at them.
“Please, handle this until we can have a proper burial,” she instructed the three people to her right. Moments later, their fingers moved, and magic that they handled with the skill of musicians strummed over the room. Vibrant colors twisted and wound around their fingers. Synchronized, they performed an invocation. The bodies disappeared. Strong natural magic was a dense blanket in the air.
The new witch continued to clean up the place, waving her hand over the furniture, flicks of magic dancing and curling over her fingers, a pastel rainbow of colors as she drew up the fractured furniture and reassembled it like new.
The others joined in, controlled power twirling throughout the room. For several moments, she and the other witches worked in silence as they cleaned up the place.
“Josh, you can relax, no one here plans to hurt you,” she said. But her words didn’t cause any of the tension to ease. As she walked throughout the room, making a performance of cleaning up, delicate long fingers danced through the air as though she was playing a piano. Being the maestro and director of the magical presentation, she would occasionally give orders. Finally the room was clean—not pristine, as I was sure it had been before Josh’s wrath had taken hold of it, but it looked as though violence had never taken place there.
Giving the room a sweeping look, she said, “Good, I work better in a clean workspace.” Full lips spread into a pleasant smile as her gaze landed on each of us, assessing in the same manner we were assessing her. I wondered if she recognized the fragility of the situation—it could easily become a disaster, one that we didn’t need at this time. The gentle rounded features didn’t diminish my apprehension. Far too often, the wolf was hiding in the clothing of the most docile-looking sheep.
She made her way to Sebastian, studying him, and he gave her a similar appraising look. The taut line of his grimace relaxed and beveled into a charismatic smile.
“You’re Sebastian, and your reputation definitely proceeds you.”
Interest sparked and I knew exactly what it had to be. The rumors painted him as a glorious monster, and it was off-putting for most to find the beautiful package that it came in. “I’m Ariel. I will be taking Marcia’s place.” Then she pulled her attention from Sebastian to Josh. “I figured it would only be a matter of time before this happened. Months ago I decided I was going to have to initiate a coup, but it worked itself out, didn’t it? Civil wars are such ugly things, and it can be quite difficult to garner loyalty from those who are on the losing side. But Marcia and her antics made it quite difficult for most to be willing to pledge their loyalty to her. Her power-lust was her undoing, and the weak minds of the others in the Creed who became complicit deserved their fate.”
“You coming in with your magical show, albeit impressive, might not be enough to gain their loyalty and convince them of your qualification to be the new leader of the Creed,” Josh offered.
“Well, if the Creed is to be made up of the most powerful witches in the country, you are looking at them. Yes, despite Marcia’s many attempts to make sure we didn’t exist, we managed to survive.” The anger that anyone must have felt knowing they had become a target just because they were powerful showed in her grimace. “Your choice not to finish magic training was made out of youthful ignorance”—she smiled—“or defiance; it was a good one. That is where they observed us, and ones they considered a threat became targets. Between the ages of ten and eighteen, I do believe I had more attempts on my life than I had candles on my birthday cakes.”
She waved her hand in the direction of the seven other witches that accompanied her. “We all are bonded by more than magic—we survived the Creed. Foolish Marcia—instead of cultivating our skills and making the witches stronger, she chose to weaken us for fear of not being the great and almighty witch. Deluded woman.”
Josh looked over the faces of witches whose magic rivaled his, who wouldn’t consider him an adversary but possibly an ally. He looked relieved, but when he spoke it was with cautious intrigue. “There are eight of you. The Creed consists of five.” As he spoke, his attention fixed on London. I’d always wondered about their friendship. He said they were friends and sometimes lovers. On more than one occasion, it had been apparent that “sometimes” wasn’t entirely accurate. “Sometimes” didn’t cause you to look at anyone the way they looked at each other. And the matching tattoos that they had were reminders that the bond they shared had existed since they were children and had grown over the years. He returned the half-smile she gave him and then redirected his attention to Ariel.
“There isn’t a rule about that. There weren’t always five; at one time there were more, as many as nine. The more people that are involved, the harder one person must work to control and corrupt. That’s not to say it is true with all things.” The gentle smile continued as she refocused her attention on Sebastian. “It has worked for you. And the were-animals.”
Sebastian nodded. “We do things differently than most.”
“So I hear. I will say, for someone with such a terrible bark, it is my understanding the bite is just as bad, too. I personally do not want to be on the other side of that bite,” she said softly, but she had closed the space between them. If he wanted their lips to touch, he simply had to lean forward.
“It’s not always that bad,” he teased.
I looked around: I seemed to be the only one feeling uncomfortable with this so-called business meeting. It seemed to have moved past the confines of a meeting.
“And it shouldn’t be. The witches and the were-animals were not always enemies, and I hope we can return to that.” She stepped back a few feet to look at all of us.
“Marcia and I had an alliance at one time, which she broke. Please forgive me if I’m not running to form one with the witches again. As you said before, power-lust can become a problem, and I’m not convinced you are exempt from it,” Sebastian cautioned.
“Of course, but please let me prove my desire to make this happen.” She fished in her pocket and pulled out a vial. “This is what Marcia had made to destroy your immunity to magic. I’m sure your doctor, if the rumors are as correct about him as they are about you, can find an antidote. He’ll have Josh’s help, and I will offer my assistance if necessary.”
She extended her hand to give it to Sebastian. His hands covered hers and lingered over it for a long moment as he kept his gaze rooted on her. She was flushed when he released it, and with effort she pulled her eyes from his. He grinned and looked down at the vial, inspecting it, and then he brought it to his nose to smell it. He nodded and handed it back to her.
“We already have it. And I doubt this is all that you have, or that you haven’t figured out how to duplicate it. This i
s of no use to me.”
It was the first time her veil of confidence dropped and she looked flustered. If I saw it, there wasn’t any doubt that Sebastian and Ethan had as well. But they didn’t let it show on their faces and let her flounder for something to offer. Even with all the tales, no one was ever truly prepared for Sebastian.
“I suspect your offering isn’t just goodwill; what is it that you want?” I was sure she wondered how he knew, and I wished I could tell her the countless things that Sebastian had probably been assessing about her the moment she’d walked through the door. Something as simple as her blinking one too many times had given him the upper hand.
It’s off-putting to me, too.
Moments passed as she struggled for the confidence and control that she had had at the very beginning. One little wrench slipped into the cogs of her spiel and she was thrown off. After a few more moments, she mastered it, standing up a little taller and smiling. Sebastian watched her; amused. “Go on. What do you want?”
“The Aufero is in your possession.”
“You’re not getting that back,” I blurted and then snapped my mouth shut.
A gentle curve caressed her lips. “Skylar Brooks, right?” I nodded. “Once again, I must admit that the person who has often been referred to as the Midwestern Pack’s doe-eyed assassin is not nearly as vicious and savage as I expected.”
Assassin. Doe-eyed? What? I don’t like those names at all.
“Don’t be cross over the name. I’m sure it is an embellishment, just as I am sure the story of how you viciously attacked Marcia has been altered.”
I tried to hold her gaze but couldn’t. It wasn’t an embellished story. It was the truth, but I wasn’t sure why or how I’d gotten the “doe-eyed” title.
“I’m quite confident that if you did savagely attack her, she undoubtedly deserved it. And I think it is unfair and probably a misnomer to call you a killer. But if you are the one that killed Ethos, then you, too, are far more than what meets the eye, and your bite is quite impressive as well.”
Ethan helped.
“Ariel, what would you like us to do for you?” Sebastian reminded her.
“The magic that was stolen from the witches using it. I need to make an attempt to gain their trust and loyalty. If my first act is to return that to them, I think that will be a step in the right direction.”
Sebastian took a long time considering her request. So long that Ariel and the others started to look worried. He’d promised Samuel that he would allow him to return the magic. Although Samuel had disappeared, I assumed he would still honor his promise. I was wrong.
“Consider it done.” I assumed making a deal with a person who wanted an alliance was better than keeping a deal with someone whose sole purpose in life was to end magic and possibly destroy the were-animals because of his nonsensical belief that magic was inherently evil and needed to be vanquished. “But I will need a favor from you and your witches.”
“And what is that?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“I don’t make open-ended bargains.”
“Not until now,” he said with a half-grin.
She started to speak, but he silenced her with a look as amber rolled over his eyes along with the wolfish grin he gave her. It wasn’t a threat, but a display of the predator she was making the deal with. One that she didn’t want to renege on. “Do we have a deal?”
He extended his hand out to her, but she didn’t take it. “As I said before, I do not make open-ended bargains.”
Sebastian’s tone was playfully dark as it dropped to a low rumble. “Then, Ariel, you should have brought a better bargain to the table.” He started backing out and signaled for us to follow. He turned his back to her, and just before he exited, he looked over his shoulder. “I trust that when you are ready to make that deal, you know how to find me.”
Just in case you haven’t figured it out, Ariel, he’s stubborn and you lost.
I expected to see anger when I glanced back, or at the very least disappointment, but her look of smug amusement mirrored Sebastian’s.
As we started out the front door of the store, I heard footsteps behind us. We all turned to find London walking swiftly to catch up with us.
“Josh.” She said his name. He turned, and as it was whenever he dealt with her, he relaxed.
“What?” Despite his seeming more relaxed, his tone was cool, distant.
“We should talk.”
He nodded, and she walked with us to the car. London was petite. At five-eight, I had nearly six inches on her. Josh was six feet. She still had the waves of pastel-colored hair, and her gentle round face, cherubic features, and docile eyes that made it look like you were staring in the face of a deer made it easy to forget she was a powerful witch, and even more so since now she was a part of the Creed. We tried to give them some space, but even several feet away, we could hear their conversation.
After a few minutes of talking, they started to hold hands; it was casual and normal for them. They possessed an intimacy that transcended anything that could be explained. Their relationship was odd, bound by a strength forged when they were children, and had evolved into something complex in their adulthood. Josh said they were “sometimes lovers,” which after being around them I realized might not be as infrequent as he’d led me to believe. And as he watched her with a look of pain and betrayal, it was obvious there was something between them far more than “sometimes lovers.” But I’d assumed that when I’d noticed that they had body art so similar that it couldn’t be a coincidence. His ragged breathing was hard to ignore, and so was his look of disappointment.
“Do you trust her?” Josh asked.
“With my life,” she said without hesitation. London was cautiously cynical, and her support of Ariel spoke volumes. “This was a long time coming. But for years, Marcia somehow held on to some of the witches’ loyalty. The more desperate she became for power, the easier it was to see that she didn’t have our interests at heart. We’ve been planning for years to do this.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was sworn to secrecy. Josh, your—” She stopped abruptly, and I knew what she was about to say: his involvement with the pack made him a liability. It was always a source of problems because his allegiance would always be questioned. People didn’t understand that it wasn’t to the pack; it was to Ethan. The same was true regarding Ethan. If he had to choose between the pack and his brother, there wasn’t a member in it who couldn’t predict his choice. It caused complication, even within the pack. “Your affiliation with the pack makes things complicated,” she admitted diplomatically, and it was evident that she was going to be good at her role as a newly inducted member of the Creed.
There wasn’t a lot more information she could have provided. Nothing that we hadn’t already figured out. Now the Creed was made up of the most powerful and talented witches in the country—with the exception of Josh. They had been forced into hiding due to multiple attempts on their lives by the previous sitting group. Their power and freethinking made them untrustworthy and a liability.
I wasn’t sure how Josh felt about the way things had been handled, but his tone held a palpable relief when he spoke to London. “Thank you for telling me.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead, and although it was a chaste act, there was an implied intimacy between them that made it seem like we shouldn’t be listening in on their conversation.
“Of course,” she said. As if she realized we were all still standing there, she gave us a weak smile and then said to Josh, “We’ll talk about it more tonight. Okay?”
He nodded.
Okay, I hope he can get more information about Ariel from their “talk.”
CHAPTER 14
“They were given three different formulas,” Dr. Jeremy said the moment we walked into the pack’s house. He bit into his lip as if he was trying to bite back the words or maintain control. For a moment, I was treated to a glim
pse of the man I’d seen back at the compound who had meted out his revenge on the people who’d hurt Kelly. “Some of them are getting sick. Fevers, blood pressures that I can’t get down.”
Sebastian listened, unusually calm, which was needed to try to help Jeremy, whose agitation was escalating with each word. “Okay. What can we do?”
He looked in Josh’s and Ethan’s direction and then toward the stairs, and they followed, going up them, I assumed, to check on the other evacuees from the house.
“We need to change them to true were-animals. That might be the only option, and we need to do it quickly, before they are too sick to even tolerate that.” His voice was low and disheartened. “They aren’t true were-animals and don’t have our ability to fight things off. If we change them now before they get too sick, they will adopt our immunity.”
Sebastian sucked in a shallow breath and looked at Joan and Cole, standing behind Jeremy. They all had the same look of being just reduced to a thousand fucks because that was the situation. Take people who had been abducted, subjected to barbaric treatment, and experimented on, rescue them, and have them undergo a painful transition to being a were-animal.
Washing his hand over his face, Sebastian considered the situation. Then he looked at Joan and Cole. “I will need your help. There are twelve.”
“That’s a lot of new weres to have at once,” Cole said, concerned. I remembered Demetrius’s comments about having to control newly changed were-animals. Were they really as savage as he’d depicted, or was that an exaggeration to add to his theatrics?
“Are you sure this will help them?” Sebastian still maintained a gentle visage as he dealt with Dr. Jeremy.
He sighed into his answer as he shook his head, desolate. “We don’t have another option.”
Sebastian looked past Dr. Jeremy toward the open door, which led to the rescued, who’d been divided after being triaged. Sebastian’s tone changed, kind but stern. “Gavin, you will be responsible for Kelly.”
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