Rebel Witch

by September Stone

  “I’m Bryn,” she says, offering her hand.

  “Owen,” the guy responds, shaking her hand with a firm grip.

  Oh, right. Owen. He’s the witch who concocted a potion that was supposed to disintegrate bones with a single drop, but it ended up lighting a whole desk on fire in the library. That had been a long night, helping clean up that mess. Apparently, when his potions do work properly, they’re brilliant enough to overshadow all the hapless missteps he’s been known to make.

  “I’m an earth affinity,” Bryn adds. “But I’ve only ever brewed potions if I had a recipe. I never even thought about trying to make something on my own. How does that even work?”

  Owen’s blue eyes light up like a kid who’s been told he can have anything he wants at a toy store. “Well, what do you want to know? Because every spell is different, and—”

  “Maybe we can have this talk another time,” I say, cutting off what is sure to be an hours’-long description of every potion this guy has ever crafted. Although there’s no reason I would need to stand around and listen to Owen’s potion-crafting master class, I don’t want to stray far from Bryn—and there’s still work to do. I don’t care that she’s talking with him. Even though he is—objectively—a pretty good-looking guy, there’s nothing in me that flashes jealousy about her interest in him. It’s more that I simply want her to stay close. Until now, she’s been nearby of her own volition, and I don’t like the idea of her leaving my sight now. I’d like to say she’s definitely safe here at the mansion, but Lillian’s earlier display has shaken my faith in the strength of the wards around this place.

  Besides, if Bryn is going to learn how to make potions no one has ever seen before, I’d like for her to learn from someone who doesn’t have a history of blowing things up.

  Bryn frowns, but she nods. “Yeah, Poe’s right. It was nice to meet you, Owen.” She offers her hand once more, and he takes it as his face sags in a disappointed pout. “Maybe we can catch up some other time. I really would love to learn about how to create new potions.”

  He perks up, flashing a smile. “I’d like that. Bryn, it’s been a pleasure. And, Poe, it’s good to see you weren’t hurt in… whatever happened here.”

  As Owen starts toward the door, it strikes me he’s left out a crucial piece of information. “Hey—were all your potions there, or are any missing?”

  He spins to face me and lifts a shoulder. “Far as I can tell, everything’s here. The vault door doesn’t seem to be tampered with.”

  It’s not as much assurance as I’d like, but I suppose it’ll have to do. I wave a hand to let him know he’s been dismissed, and his nose wrinkles, but he leaves the room. I turn my attention back to the room as a whole. If Lillian wasn’t after dangerous potions, what else might tempt her to come here?

  Bryn takes a slow tour of the room, her eyes scanning the floor and walls with each step she takes. “Besides the potions, what else to the elders keep in here?”

  I shake my head. “Your guess is as good as mine. This is the first time I’ve been in here. It’s always been off-limits to hunters.”

  She squints, tilting her head. “But it seems like Owen was familiar with the room, so it clearly wasn’t only the elders who were allowed inside.” She points to a framed map of the globe hanging on wall on the other side of the room. “What’s that?”

  I’m about to state the obvious when I detect what she’s seeing. The frame isn’t flush against the wall. It’s subtle, and I’m surprised she noticed. I cross to it ahead of her, not entirely sure what to expect.

  The right side of the print hangs about an inch and a half away from the wall, while the left side remains flush against it. I slip a finger behind the frame and apply the faintest about of pressure—but it’s enough to make the whole thing swing forward like a door on a hinge. My stomach lurches when I spot something resting in the recessed wall beyond. A safe. It’s not large. Even if Bryn folded herself into a pretzel, I doubt she’d fit within.

  But it’s not the size of the object that strikes me—it’s the hand-sized hole melted through the front of the safe. I’ve dealt with more than a few fire-affinity witches in my day, but I’m not sure I know of any that could sustain a fire with the kind of temperatures necessary to melt a quarter inch of steel.

  “No way,” Bryn murmurs, pressing close to me as she peers at the melted safe. She doesn’t draw any nearer to it than I am, as if worried something nasty might spring from within the shadowy depths. Instead, she inches incrementally closer to me, making my chest puff with pride that, in this moment at least, I am her safe harbor.

  The urge to wrap my arm around her bubbles up too quickly for me to suppress, and it snakes protectively, pulling her flush against me. She fits there like we were hewn from the same stone—two parts of the same whole finally snapped back into place.

  “Hello? Is someone in here?”

  Bryn’s whole body jerks in surprise and she presses in closer as I spin us around to face the speaker. Relief floods me as I take in the man standing in the doorway. “Fred.” I didn’t see the elders’ secretary when we were among the injured and the dead, but until this moment I wasn’t sure if I’d missed him or whether his remains were among those left unrecognizable. “It’s so good to see you.”

  Fred nods, his bushy eyebrows drawn and his olive skin ashen. He adjusts the grip on his cane before taking a few limping steps into the room. “I had leave to spend a few nights with my sister and her family. We’re celebrating my niece’s birthday.”

  For a man whose words usually flow so fast it can be difficult to follow what he’s saying, Fred’s cadence is remarkably slow. I can’t imagine what kind of shock it’s been for him, seeing the place like this. He’s worked here far longer than I have, and even though he’s not in the field anymore, I don’t doubt he’s asking himself the same question that keeps echoing through my own head: Is there something I could have done to stop all this? Although I’m sure that had Fred been here, he’d be among the dead now. While he was a top-rate bounty hunter before his injury, he hasn’t seen action in years. Nowadays, he’s more accustomed to arranging hunt parties and taking notes on the elders’ meetings.

  An idea bubbles to the surface of my mind. “Hey, do you have any idea what the elders kept in this safe?”

  Fred’s eyes widen as if he’s just realized what Bryn and I are standing in front of. He limps to the safe with more speed than I’d have given him credit for, shaking his head when his eyes land on the melted hole. “No. No, no, no.”

  “That bad, huh?” Bryn’s voice is so tight her attempted joke falls flat.

  “That’s where they keep The List.” Fred’s tone conveys the importance of the document.

  Bryn’s eyebrows hike upward. “The List?”

  “It’s got everything,” Fred says, the words sounding oddly wistful. “Every secluded, secret supernatural community like Twin Rivers. Every town with a high supernatural population—whether known or unknown by the noms who live there. Each tavern or restaurant or bed and breakfast that caters to our kind. The elders always kept The List secure because of the danger is poses if it falls into the wrong hands.”

  My mind spins. I’ve lived in Twin Rivers for most of my life, and I’ve dealt with supernaturals all over the country. But even I only know a fraction of the locations on that list. With access to that list, plus the euphorium she’s stolen, I can’t fathom how much damage Lillian can do to those communities. “We need to know where all those locations are. Is there a second list somewhere?”

  Fred releases the dry laugh I’ve heard countless times when hunters have attempted to push for mission departure delays or bribe him to add a few more marks to their bounty column. “There’s no secondary copy. The ledger is kept by hand, and the elders are the only ones permitted to even open it.”

  “Then we have no idea where Lillian will strike next,” Bryn murmurs.

  I want to tell her that’s not the case, but I can’t see any
way around it. Even if I go to the hospital and grill Daya about towns and establishments listed, there’s no way she has the entire ledger memorized. And if we don’t know where Lillian is going, there’s no way to stop her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Silas

  I can’t help releasing a low whistle when Calder pulls into the parking lot surrounding the towering Twin Heights luxury hotel. The pinks and oranges of sunset mix with the artificial brightness the well-lit walkway that’s lined with perfectly-trimmed bushes.

  “We’re staying here?” I remark, still taking it all in.

  “I guess almost getting killed trying to protect the elders is worth a few nights in the nicest hotel in town.” Poe’s tone is gruff, but I detect a note of something like wonder beneath the surface. Something about his reaction resonates with me. He lived the last who-knows-how-many years in the elders’ mansion. But even though the part of the building I’ve seen was rich and opulent, I’m sure the same can’t be said for whatever corner of it he’s been living in. Although Lillian had me in a pretty nice setup when I was bound to her, most of my experience has been of the “mattress in the corner of a basement” variety. Being surrounded by comfort and wealth while having it denied to you is a hard pill to swallow. And while it won’t make up for all he’s been through, I’m glad Daya saw fit to give him something over-the-top for his parting gift. This place is sure to beat the hell out of the Nightshade, no matter what renovations that dump’s been touting.

  “We should be out looking for Lillian,” Bryn grumbles as Calder pulls into a space and cuts the ignition. “We have no idea where she could be.”

  “Which is exactly why we’re not out looking,” Taj says in his calming British way. “Wandering around aimlessly isn’t going to help anyone. The authorities here have reached out to their networks, and Ryder should be arriving any time now to coordinate with them. We’ll know where she is soon enough.”

  We all climb out of the car, and Poe makes his way to Bryn’s side. He’s barely been more than an arm’s length away from her since he woke up in the elders’ mansion, and something in my chest twists at his nearness to her. It isn’t jealousy exactly—more a fear of being replaced. But a quick glance at Taj and Calder reveals no concern in either of their faces, so I do my best to shake it off.

  “The best thing we can do right now is sleep,” Poe says as we approach the glass front doors, which glitter orange and pink in the sunset. “We all need rest to be at the top of our game. Even you, kitten.”

  I’m not prepared for the inside of the hotel. The touches of gold everywhere sing out to me, as if declaring with every sconce the opulence of the building. Just the elaborate nature of the chandelier makes me feel like no expense will be spared to make our stay enjoyable.

  The receptionist wears a tight bun and a welcoming smile as Poe checks us in.

  Bryn’s mouth hasn’t closed yet, but still hangs open in wonder at the luxury she’s been deprived of her whole life.

  When we pile into the elevator and make our way up to floor fourteen, we’re all quietly wearing the same “this place is far more expensive than any of us can afford” types of looks.

  By the time Poe slips the key card into the door, I can’t tell who’s more excited to see the room beyond—Bryn or me. She bobs on the balls of her feet as the door swings open to reveal the largest hotel room I’ve ever seen. The inside is just as richly-appointed as the rest of the building.

  “The elders don’t skimp then, do they?” Taj asks, craning his neck for a better view.

  Bryn darts inside first. There’s a doorway to the left of the living-room-like area, which reveals a large-open area with a huge kidney-shaped jetted tub and a king-sized bed beyond. The curtains are open to reveal a breathtaking view of Twin Rivers. From this high up the painted colors of sunset comprise the bulk of the view, and for a moment I’m too struck to do anything but stare.

  Poe walks the length of the room before poking his head into the bathroom like he’s sure he’s missing something.

  “Anything wrong?” Calder asks, his head tilted to the side.

  Poe’s lips are pursed when he turns from the bathroom. “When Fred said it was a suite, I was picturing… something different.”

  I can’t help chuckling. “What? This place isn’t up to your standards?”

  He shakes his head. “No. I just…”

  Although his sentence trails, I don’t miss when his eyes flicker toward the single king-size bed in the room.

  I’m not the only one who notices. The room falls silent for a long moment as everyone’s gaze lands on Bryn. I know, without having to discuss it with the others, that her word carries the most weight. For my part, I’ll be damned if I deny her something she wants.

  She turns toward the bed, her face puckered to an almost comical degree. “I think we’ll be fine,” she says slowly. “I mean, Taj, Calder, and I managed to all sleep on the tiny twin mattress in my room at the Temple of Theurgy. I don’t think we’ll have a problem getting all five of us on a king bed.”

  I release a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Something inside me snaps into place. This is it. The five of us—we’re a unit. I feel it. The gentle bobs of Taj and Calder’s heads let me know they feel it too.

  But Poe is still staring at the bed. Finally, he opens his mouth. “None of you assholes better snore. I’m a light sleeper.”

  He cracks a smile, and it’s like a weight lifts from the room. I’m sure we’ll still have plenty of things to figure out, but at least we’re all in this together.

  Bryn rubs her hands together. “Now that that’s settled, this tub looks amazing.” She steps forward, feathering a touch on the tap. She turns to Taj. “You’re sure there’s nothing we can do tonight?”

  He nods. “Nothing’s changed in the last five minutes. We still don’t know where Lillian is, and it’s no use running off without a direction.”

  Calder’s phone buzzes and he pulls it from his pocket. “It’s Ryder. He’s just crossing the town line. Wants us to meet him.” He lifts his chin at Taj, who groans.

  “Fine,” he grumbles, casting a longing glance at the jetted tub. “But only if we meet in the hotel bar. After a day like today, I could use a drink.”

  Calder nods, tapping out a message with his thumbs.

  Bryn rises on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Taj’s lips. “Make sure you tell me if there’s anything more we can do tonight.”

  He shakes his head. “Take a bath, love. If Ryder knew where Lillian was, he’d be there, not here.”

  “I should come,” Poe says. “I was at the mansion. I can answer your boss’ questions about…”

  But Calder shakes his head. “We already told him everything you told us about what happened. If he’s got any more questions, they can wait till tomorrow. You’ve been through enough today.” He reaches toward Bryn, who scurries to his side to kiss him as well. “Stay here and relax,” he adds, the corner of his mouth curving into a half smile.

  Taj nods in my direction as he heads toward the door. Calder stretches out an arm and ruffles my hair before he follows, and I can’t help wondering if that’s how things are going to be between us now.

  To my surprise, part of me likes the gesture. I didn’t miss that Calder didn’t take it well back when Bryn and Taj first got horizontal, and he was none too pleased to find out that Bryn and Poe got it on while he was unconscious—even if Bryn’s intent had been to help him and Taj to heal and not to hurt either of them. So the fact that Calder hasn’t batted an eye at me joining Bryn’s devoted harem means something. If this is going to work, we can’t just care for her—we have to care about each other, too.

  “I’ve never been in a tub like this,” Bryn says as the door closes behind Calder and Taj. She crosses to it, twisting the hot tap handle. “I can’t remember the last time I took a bath,” she adds, testing the temperature of the streaming water.

  The rushing sound fills my ears as my eyes trace the
gentle curve of Bryn’s body as she bends over the tub. She’s really going to do it—take a bath right now. And it isn’t as if she’ll be hidden away. There’s no wall separating the tub from the bed. Unless Poe and I hide out in the tiny room with the toilet and shower stall, we’ll have a full-on view of her relaxing bath time.

  Not that I’m complaining.

  Pleased with the temperature of the water, Bryn plugs the tub before kicking off her shoes and tossing them toward the bed. A moment later, her socks follow suit and she’s wiggling out of her jeans. It isn’t until the denim pools around her feet that she glances over her shoulder at me. “Why are you just standing there?”

  “Um. I, um…” I blink a few times, fighting to tear my gaze from her panty-clad ass. My cock stirs in my pants as I recall what it felt like to grab hold of those perfect globes as her legs wrapped around my waist.

  She laughs. “You’re getting in, too, right? This thing is so big, it’d be a shame to waste all this water on just me.” She grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head as she turns to Poe. “You, too, right?”

  Although I could stare at Bryn in nothing but her bra and panties for an eternity, my eyes snap to Poe to gauge his reaction. The idea of the five of us piled in one bed to sleep is one thing. Dropping trou and climbing into a tub that is definitely designed for a max of two people is another thing.

  After a pause, Poe chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s funny how fast things can change,” he mutters toeing out of his shoes. “If you’d told me a month ago I’d be climbing naked into a tub with a daemon, I’da said you were off your rocker.”

  I crouch down to pull off my ankle-length boots. “Not just any daemon,” I remind him. “The one who marked you for death.” My mouth curves as I say it, like it’s an inside joke between us—not a horrible reality that almost cost us our lives. I pull off both shoes and line them up against the wall. “Wait.”

  Poe, who’s already yanked off his t-shirt, stops short in his process of wadding it into a ball. Even Bryn, whose arms are twisted behind her back to undo the hooks on her bra, pauses.