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He shook his head, cleared his throat. “Nah. I’ve got a shift at Nine Circles coming up anyway, and besides, I’d rather have you watching the rest of the vids with me.”
“Okay.” She gave him a sunny smile, then sobered. “Tomorrow will be busy. I need to run some errands and refresh some of my wards around the city, and then I’ll help Rose with her magic practice later. But we can pick this up again on the weekend?”
“Sure. No rush.” Pausing to carefully choose his words, he then asked, “So you and Rose…are doing better?”
“Yes.” The breath she took visibly released tension from her shoulders, her features smoothing out. “I can hardly believe it, but she actually approached me yesterday, wanted to spend time with me. I don’t know what’s changed in her, but we had a good, cathartic talk, worked through some issues, and now she’s just opened up to me.”
That knot in his stomach, it finally unraveled.
“That’s great,” he said, his voice rough. “I’m glad she came around.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what did it, but I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth.” She laughed softly, the sound caressing his heart.
Seeing his mate this happy, knowing he’d helped—it was the best fucking drug in the world.
CHAPTER 33
The sun gilded the turrets of the Laroche manor as Hazel steered her car up the long driveway, the grass and artfully pruned conifers glinting with drops of the most recent rain shower.
Last night, just after Hazel had laid the fifth and final ward point, Shobha had called with the news that she’d succeeded in crafting a derivative spell to transfer the head-of-family title from one witch to another, using Juneau’s provided spell as the blueprint. According to the head of the Gupta family, it should do the job and give Sophie the much-needed authority over her family as well as grant the Laroches access to ambient magic again.
After conferring with Sophie and Merle, Shobha had suggested scheduling the transfer for ten o’clock the next day. Hazel and two other Elders had been asked to stand by as witnesses and to provide security and bind Juneau’s magic inside her after the transfer. In a surprisingly unanimous decision, all the Elders had agreed that this should be Juneau’s punishment for her role in the recent war.
Hazel had initiated the tracing spell last night after laying the fifth ward point, and it was now quietly working at breaking down and analyzing the witch’s lingering energy signature. Hazel would have to check it in a few hours to see if it was done, but until then, she’d take care of the Laroche situation.
She made her way up to the stately entrance of the manor, hoping it wasn’t going to be Selene again who’d greet and escort her through the house. Judging by the cars lined up in the spacious driveway, the other Elders were already here, so at least Hazel wouldn’t have to deal with Sophie alone.
She rang the bell, and a minute later, the door opened to reveal Pauline, whose expression soured as she beheld Hazel. Right. Not that much better an option than Selene, given that Pauline’s mother, Estelle—Juneau’s elder daughter—had been killed in the lead-up to the Baldwin House Battle…by none other than Tallak.
Blue eyes ice-cold, Pauline stared at Hazel, her voice frozen over. “Welcome. Please follow me.”
If delivering polite greetings in a tone as inviting as the rotten depth of a crypt was a sport, Pauline would get a gold medal.
With a sigh, Hazel walked behind Juneau’s oldest granddaughter as she led her through the labyrinth of hallways and rooms in the Laroche manor, all the way to the ritual room where Merle had recently called forth Juneau. Again, they passed several of the Laroches milling about the house, though this time, a hum of tension lay in the air, all eyes following Hazel’s movements, hushed whispers haunting her steps.
Seemed like word had gotten around that they’d be releasing Juneau from the Shadows today.
Selene, too, was among the crowd, dark circles under her eyes, her blond hair hanging limp and unkempt. Hazel remembered Sophie’s words, how the loss of her beloved grandmother had made the young witch spiral. She had to be ecstatic to get her back, then. Not that Hazel could truly muster up any compassion for Selene—her mother’s heart would never forgive how she’d ratted out Lily.
Arriving at the ritual room, Pauline waved Hazel inside and beat her retreat.
The others were indeed already assembled, Merle sitting on a cushion on the floor in a huge protective circle, Sophie, Shobha, Patricia, and Kristen on chairs to the side. The mood was subdued, a mantle of sorrow hanging around the witches present—likely due to the fact that the night before had seen one more casualty among their ranks, this time a member of the Gutierrez family. Apparently, her magic had failed her in a fight with some shedim, who had then ripped her apart.
Sophie jumped up when Hazel entered, a nervous spark in her energy. “Hazel, thank you for coming. Please, take a seat.” She gestured at the free chair to the right of Kristen.
Hazel nodded her hello at the other witches and settled down.
“All right,” Merle said. “Let’s begin.”
Sophie sat down again, Shobha shifted in her chair, and Patricia adjusted her sweater, then silence fell, the only sound in the room the crackling of the candles.
“With Arawn’s protection,” Merle began quietly, and to Hazel’s unending shock, none of the other witches made a face or uttered a scandalized sound.
If the room had any windows, she’d have glanced outside to see if there were any pigs flying around.
“By the magic of my line,” Merle intoned, “with the power passed unto me, I call upon the Shadows to obey my commands.”
Pulsing power filled the room, the air moist and warm like the breath of some large primal beast, and then a wall of living smoke formed before Merle. Inky darkness coiled and writhed, the whispers of the Shadows once more raising the hairs on Hazel’s arms.
