Page 29 of Rogue Witch

“That pent up rage had to go somewhere,” Blade says grimly.

Attention on Raith, Matthias massages his jaw. “Feel better?”

“Not by half.” Raith spins, crosses to the table, and pours another drink. “As for any censure from you about Ciarah, you gave up your right to say a fucking word when you went MIA for thirty years.”

“I returned when she returned,” Matthias says.

“Did you find Caleb?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “The wolf does not wish to be found.”

Or he’s dead.

“Don’t look so glum, Ethan,” Matthias says. “He’ll show up. Now, tell me about this attempt on Leilah’s life.”

“She was in my class,” I say. “Someone used magic to hurl an unused spear at her. Raith saved her life.”

Matthias lifts a brow. “Shared your blood with her?”

“We had no other choice,” I say.

“I understand a young witch is her would-be assassin.”

Blade, Raith, and I exchange a surprised glance, then Blade says, “How do you know that?”

“Olympia told me.”

“Fuck,” Raith mutters.

“You’d better sit down and tell us everything.” I gesture to the couches in front of the fireplace.

We resume our seats on the couch and Matthias claims the chair nearest me. We fill him in on the two attempts on Leilah’s life and he admits to working for Olympia the last two years and describes her theory behind Miriam Crowe’s disappearance.

“Two years and you didn’t deign to contact us?” Raith’s quiet question tells me he’s still angry.

“To what end?” Matthias asks.

“So that we knew you were well,” I say.

He gives me that gentle smile I’ve seen countless times. “You know I’m fine. Olympia is already suspicious of the relationship you three share. I wanted to remain above suspicion.”

Raith barks a laugh. “Hear that? Father Mattias is implying he’s part of the Grand Witch’s inner circle and we’re not.”

“That’s not what I am implying,” Matthias says, as Raith rises and crosses to the sideboard where he keeps the whiskey. “And you may address me as ‘Bishop James.’”

Raith’s head whips around and we all stare.

Blade whistles. “So that’s what you’ve been doing these last thirty years.”

“Just the last twenty,” Matthias replies. “The first ten, I searched for Caleb.”

Raith faces us, a glass of whiskey in hand, and leans against the edge of the sideboard.

“Did you find any leads on Caleb?” I ask.

“I caught his trail a couple of times. But you know how wolves are.” Matthias shrugs, “When they don’t want to be caught, they turn into wolves and run.”

“At least he was alive, at some point,” I say.