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“Amazing,” Walker said.
He stood in the doorway with an easy smile. Only Walker could manage such a gentle expression with a battle looming over our heads.
A sword was sheathed at his side. Its silver handle shined, despite the quickly fading sunlight. I rose to my feet and stretched my arms over my head to alleviate the tension gathered there.
“Keep practicing,” I told Cadence. “Time to gather my own weapons.”
I ruffled her hair then breezed past Walker into the kitchen. My duffel bag was gone. I nearly growled in frustration.
Thunk.
I turned around. Clyde stood in the doorway to the kitchen. My bag—my mother’s bag—was beside him. He’d shaved and changed into fighting leathers. His hunter’s clothes stretched over his beer belly, but his gaze was clear.
“Looking for this?” he asked.
I summoned a gust of wind, and the bag slid across the floor to me. I picked it up and checked its contents. The Kevlar suits, daggers, and protection charms were all inside, as was Arachne’s web and my only other defense against Josephine.
Thank the Goddess Mom left that in there.
“Why’d you take it?” I said. “Did you think I spent my last week saving your kids just to bring a hex into your home?”
He crossed his arms. “I don’t trust you.”
“Yeah?” I said. “The feeling’s mutual.”
I studied his shaking hands. “You’ve abandoned your kids to get drunk before. Who’s to say it won’t happen again?”
He ignored me. “You’re planning on striking against your own coven.”
“I already have,” I interjected, “to save your son’s life.”
“I know,” Clyde said and sighed. He stumbled over his next words. “Thank you…for sparing him. If I’d done my job right, he would’ve been prepared to face you. I own that.”
I struggled for a response. I hadn’t expected Clyde to own anything.
“But this battle,” he said, “it’ll be different. You could be fighting your own sisters. I know you’ve helped my kids, but where will your loyalties fall when its your coven’s lives pitted against theirs?”
“I won’t have to make that decision,” I said in a rush. Fear coiled in my stomach. “My coven will come to their senses. They’ll see Josephine for what she has become—a monster.”
“And if they don’t?” Clyde pressed. “Hell, even if they do, will you really be able to kill the closest thing you have left to family? Will you be able to kill Josephine?”
I shook my head. “I won’t side with my mother’s killer or anyone who supports her.”
Clyde sighed. “I hope you’re right.”
I hope so too.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Freya
The blood moon hung low in the purple sky, and the trees seemed to cower from it. The air was unnaturally still, and the grass did not sway, as if nothing wanted to attract attention.
I stared at the sky and took calming breaths. Already, the blood moon’s power heightened the air with untapped energy. Always, my coven had used the blood moon as a time for cleansing spells and peace. It was a way to rebalance ourselves. It had never felt so sinister as it did tonight.
Even the sky knew death was coming.
Walker, Clyde, and Cadence stood beside me in the Reids’ front yard, several feet from the house. Walker looked like a true hunter, except for that damn hat he still wore. He was dressed in a leather jacket that molded to his skin and fitted, thick black pants. With discomfort clearly painted in his frown, he tugged at them. A sword was strapped to his side. Other than one brief lesson by his father, Walker was untrained to use it. I prayed his hunter’s blood would be enough to save him.
