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Josie doesn’t understand the politics of our world yet and her feelings for him are too tangled for her to think about things logically.
Even now, she’s enjoying his pain too much.
When Sebastian lifts his head again, he looks absolutely pissed. His eyes are pure red, and his lip pulls back to reveal one of his pointed fangs.
Josie turns her attention back to Lilian’s story, pretending to be oblivious to Sebastian’s affliction before he turns all that anger her way.
Not that it will do any good. Sebastian won’t take looking weak lightly. This is going to come back to bite her pretty, round ass.
“Go ahead, Lilian,” Josie says.
The elder witch looks from Sebastian to Josie and then swallows. “At that point, the three of us came up with a different tactic. We devised a plan and created a spell that would restore harmony to the city and unite the werewolves and vampires.”
“The unity ritual,” Josie says again.
“That’s right. Gisèle was worried. Magic on that scale is volatile, but Claudette and I believed we could do it with Mother Gaia’s assistance. So, with a ritual prepared, we set out to capture the power of the new moon.”
Rune frowns. “Does a new moon offer more power than a full moon, a waxing, or a waning moon?”
Josie nods. “Oh, yes. A new moon holds not only the potential for the beginning of a new cycle, but also the completion of the previous one. It’s the perfect time to transition into a time of peace.”
“In theory,” Sebastian growls. “Because in reality, everyone here knows exactly how that night went.”
Yes. We do.
Josie sighs and looks at Lilian. “Please, go on.”
The matron witch drags her finger across the ridges of the tree rings of the table. “The ritual was more intense than we anticipated. Gisèle wasn’t strong enough, and the spell drained her life energy. It was threatening to do the same to your grandmother and myself, and we knew we needed to do something quickly.”
The urgency in her voice has Josie’s anxiety spiking, and I place a gentle hand on her thigh under the table to ease her emotions.
“Claudette and I needed something physical to tie the spell to, somewhere to funnel all that excess magic before the power of it sent us prematurely into Mother Gaia’s embrace. We used what we had on us at the time: my great grandmother’s moonstone amulet, and a ceremonial sunstone dagger Claudette brought for protection.”
“They’re witchstones,” Josie mumbles.
Rune reaches across the table to snag two oatmeal cookies from a plate, apparently feeling right at home. I’m surprised he hasn’t put his boots up on the table yet and reclined in his chair.
“What’s a witchstone?” he asks.
“Grand-Mère taught me that witchstones are created by immense amounts of power and emotion combining in the presence of a natural stone. It takes a perfect storm of magic that collides and produces a magical artifact.”
“Sounds powerful,” I say.
“Their magic can be extremely unstable,” Lilian adds. “And because of that, and the conditions of their creation being difficult to reproduce, they are also extremely rare.”
“And worth starting another war over?” I ask.
Rune scrubs a hand through his beard and twirls the braid there. “If the unity ritual created the witchstones, would destroying the stones destroy the unity bonds?”
Josie’s gaze flicks to me. Her long ebony hair is mussed from battle but even stressed, she’s the most fuckable woman I’ve ever seen.
I take her anxiety and send back as much calming energy as I can across the bond we share. The mention of severing the connection leaves a hollowness in both our chests.
“It’s more complicated than that,” Lilian assures us. “The moonstone and the sunstone are, of course, both integral parts of the whole, but the ritual was forged in blood—a blood sacrifice.”
“Gisèle Caron,” Josie says.
“That’s right.”
