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But I still have no doubt I do know her from somewhere.
After opening my door for me, Jesse slides his hand into mine and squeezes it. I lean into him as we head into the manner, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, Leif appears out of nowhere and tells him there’s some urgent business he needs to attend to.
“Go ahead,” I say when he looks like he’s going to argue. “I’ll be waiting for you in our room when you’re done.”
“You’re sure?” he asks, his worry-filled gaze searching mine.
“I’m sure,” I say, offering him a small smile.
“Okay. I won’t be long,” he promises, then brushes his lips over mine before turning to follow Leif in the opposite direction.
I head up the stairs, moving slowly as I pull my phone from my pocket. Opening the picture for the hundredth time, I stare at the witch’s features. I wish real life was like movies, where you can just search for the cast online and find out from which other movie or television series you recognize an actor. I suppose I could run a reverse-image search with the photo, but I have little hope anything would come of it.
The woman is a privacy-loving witch, not a public figure.
I close out the picture with a sigh as I walk into the bedroom I share with Jesse. Moving forward, I collapse onto the bed with a groan, burying my face in the mattress for a moment before rolling over onto my back to stare at the ceiling.
This whole thing is just so frustrating.
Rolling onto my side, I freeze when my gaze lands on my nightstand. I blink several times as I stare at the top drawer, where my ruby necklace rests inside.
Oh, my God.
The vision.
Reaching out, I pull open the drawer and grab the pendant. Holding it tightly in my fist, I roll onto my back again and close my eyes, focusing on a specific vision I conjured using the necklace.
A room filled with witches.
Hearing my name.
“They’re back in Los Angeles, hidden behind the walls of the manor and playing king and queen to their vicious acolytes.”
“We must eliminate Eden Grundelier and end this atrocity. You all know the prophecy, and we cannot allow it to come to be.”
The woman at the front of the room sensing my presence.
“Someone is here. Someone who doesn’t belong.”
My eyes fly open as I sit up in a rush. Holy shit. It’s her.
Helena Kirkwood is the leader of the coven I saw in my vision. The one that is plotting to eliminate me.
And she knows the prophecy.
Who did Steph say she is? A coven leader from Arizona. Desertwillow.
Relief at figuring out her identity wars inside me with the tension of knowing one of my council peers absolutely wants me dead. The question now is, what am I going to do with this information?
I could confront her, I suppose. At a meeting would be best, where she wouldn’t dare try anything in front of the rest of the council. But when will that happen? Steph has called two meetings in the last few weeks, and if she tries to schedule another one, the witches will get suspicious, at the very least.
Worst case, they’ll revolt against her for abusing her power.
We could go to Arizona to confront Helena, but that would equate to walking right into the lion’s den. If they did manage to overpower us, the coven could murder me and hide my body in the desert where no one would ever find it. Or they could make it known to the witch community, telling everyone I came to threaten them and proving vampires can’t be trusted as allies. Even if they didn’t kill me, they could spin my presence there as hostility and still ruin the shaky relationship between the two species.
No, I have to play this just the right way.
Jesse walks in, and as I look up at him with wide eyes, he rushes forward and climbs onto the bed next to me. Taking my hand, he brushes his thumb over my knuckles as his expression darkens with concern.
