Chapter 5
CHOICES AND CONSEQUENCES
MURIEL
Muriel made it three blocks from The Glas Tann before the full weight of everything hit her. She stopped on the sidewalk, clutched the satchel against her chest, and took a deep, cleansing breath.
Overwhelmed didn’t begin to describe how she was feeling.
And Brandon’s theory that her mother had known about all of it?
Mind blowing. Siobhan Brennan had been a quiet, broken soul.
Nothing about her hinted at her as the keeper of a priceless, powerful artifact, ancient bloodlines, or secret societies.
Then again, maybe that was the point.
Jarring as it was, so many things were starting to make sense. Her mother's reclusiveness, for example. She hadn’t simply been a broken-hearted woman hiding away on the outskirts of werewolf lands with her daughter.
She’d been trying to protect them from the kind of evil Muriel was struggling to understand.
As if in confirmation, the book warmed and vibrated softly in her arms. Sentient, Brandon had said. Sentient and somehow in tune with her.
Muriel straightened and started walking again. She had to figure this out, one way or another, and Brandon was her best chance of getting answers. He was kind, knowledgeable, and seemed sincere. He was also the only other magic-wielder she knew.
But what if he had ulterior motives? She hadn’t missed the way lightning seemed to flash in those sky-blue eyes of his as he looked at the book, nor the subtle pulse of his magic in the air around them.
It hadn’t been unpleasant. On the contrary, she wanted to lean into it. Surrender to it as it wrapped itself around her and—
Gah! She needed to think. To process, without the distracting scents of cedar, sandalwood, and hints of ozone with subtle undertones of amber messing with her senses.
Her phone buzzed in an example of perfect cosmic timing.
Jessie: Is everything okay?
Muriel: I don’t know how to answer that.
Jessie: That’s not cryptic at all. Do I need to kick some ass?
The text made Muriel smile, despite her near panic.
Muriel: No. I’m heading back now. We need to talk.
Jessie: I’ll be waiting.
“So, don’t keep me in suspense. What did Brandon say?” Jessie asked a short while later. They sat on the large deck, Muriel trying to organize her thoughts into something coherent while Jessie watched the cubs playing in the sprinkler in the big backyard.
Where to begin? Brandon’s terrifying revelations or her equally terrifying attraction to the mage himself?
“Brandon believes the man who came to my house is a Collector,” she said finally.
“What’s a Collector?”
“Apparently, they’re the hit men of some secret magical governing body called the Magisterial Consilium. They hunt natural witches for their magic.”
“Oh my God.”
“Yeah,” Muriel agreed. “And every time I have a surge, I'm basically sending up a flare announcing exactly where I am.”
“Like the one you had in the kitchen yesterday?”
“Yes.” Muriel set down her iced tea before she could spill it. “Which is exactly why I need to leave. I'm putting you and your family in danger by being here. If the Collectors are tracking me—”
“No. That’s not how this works. We have always been there for each other, and that’s not going to change now.”
“But you have a family.”
“Yeah, and you’re part of it,” Jessie said firmly. “This is non-negotiable.”
“But—”
Jessie held up one hand in a stop motion and grabbed her phone with the other, her thumb moving quickly over the screen. “Dani, are you with Matt? Good. Tell him I need him to watch the kids for a few hours. I’m calling an emergency meeting of the SLUT club. I’ll explain later.”
“The what club?” Muriel asked as Jessie started texting.
“S-L-U-T,” Jessie said with a grin. “Supernatural Ladies of Ultimate Terrificness. Think of it like a support group for the mates of alpha males, which, for the record, is not limited to shifters.”
Muriel shook her head. “I’m not a mate.”
“Trust me, you qualify. Don’t make it weird.”
An hour later, Muriel found herself in Jessie's car, winding up a narrow mountain road as the afternoon sun filtered through thick canopy. Her palms were sweating despite the air conditioning.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Tedi's place. It's perfect for this kind of thing—private, peaceful, and warded six ways from Sunday.” Jessie glanced over with a reassuring smile. “You're in good hands, Ree. I promise.”
The car rounded a final curve and a cabin appeared, nestled so perfectly among the trees it might have grown there. Natural wood, stone foundation, flowers blooming in wild profusion around the porch. Everything about it sang to Muriel's magic, soothing her in a way nothing else could.
“Does a witch live here?”
Jessie's smile widened. “Not anymore. Old Mabel sold it to Tedi and her mate. It’s become our unofficial clubhouse.”
They climbed out of the car just as the cabin door opened, revealing a beautiful woman with golden hair and warm hazel eyes.
“Glad you could make it! Hi Muriel. I’m Tedi. We met at Jessie and Matt’s wedding.”
“Yes, I remember. How are you?”
“Better than you apparently,” Tedi said without malice, then immediately brought her hands to her lips. “Oops. Sorry. No filter.”
“Do you know something we don’t?” Jessie asked warily.
“Many things,” Tedi answered with a graceful shrug of her shoulders. “Nature of the beast. You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Tedi is an oracle,” Jessie explained. “Her mind operates on several planes simultaneously, seeing potential outcomes.”
Oh.
Tedi stepped back and ushered them inside. The cabin's interior was just as soothing as its exterior—warm wood and soft textures, herbs hanging from exposed beams, crystals catching the light from tall windows.
Two more familiar looking women waved from the plush sofa. One was bronzed, blonde, and green-eyed. The other was her monochromatic twin, with alabaster skin, black hair, and gray eyes. Both were surrounded by unmistakable auras of magic, but what they were, Muriel didn’t know.
“Ana and Ryssa, right?”
“Got it in one,” the blonde said with a radiant smile.
“Please, make yourselves comfortable,” Tedi said. “We’re just waiting on Dani.”
As if summoned, the door burst open and a tall, athletic blonde bounded in carrying two large totes.
“Sorry I'm late! Had to make a supply run.” She headed straight for the kitchen counter and began lining up cartons of orange juice and bottles of whipped cream vodka with the efficiency of a bartender.
“Can't have a proper SLUT club meeting without creamsicles.”
“The official drink of the SLUT club,” Ryssa said with a smirk.
Ana tucked her feet underneath her on the other chair and patted the sofa cushion beside her in invitation. “Please, sit. We don't bite.” Her smile was gentle, genuinely warm.
“Well, except Jessie and Dani because they're werewolves,” Tedi added matter-of-factly.
A few chuckles murmured through the space, and even Muriel had to hide her smile.
Once everyone had drinks in hand, Dani dropped into the last chair and said, “Okay. Why are we here?”
Jessie nodded to Muriel. “Tell them what you told me.”
Muriel’s eyes widened. “Everything?”
“Everything. They need to know what they’re up against. And before you say anything about this being a you problem, may I remind you that you are pack.”
Muriel looked at the women gathered around her offering supportive smiles and encouraging nods, radiating energies that should have clashed but somehow harmonized. There was so much power in this room, she realized. Not only from whatever magic they held but from the bonds that they’d created.
And they were including her.
Moisture built in her eyes as warmth washed over her, a sense of belonging she hadn't felt since... maybe ever.
So Muriel told them. About discovering the book her mother had left for her.
About the terrifying visions of women who looked like her being hunted through moonlit forests.
Of the strange mage showing up at her house the next day with his cold smile and thinly veiled threat.
Of the magical surges that erupted with her emotions.
Brandon's explanation about Collectors and the Magisterial Consilium and his offer of resonance binding.
She didn’t think she’d ever talked so much at one time. When she finally stopped, she felt drained.
“Wow,” Dani breathed. “That’s…”
“Yeah,” Muriel agreed, taking another sip of her drink, surprised to find her glass almost empty.
That explained the looseness of her tongue and the pleasant tingles in her extremities.
She wondered vaguely about the liquor-to-OJ ratio and made a note to stick to just orange juice next time—if there was a next time.
“And this Corvus guy showed up the day after you opened the book?” Tedi's voice was thoughtful, distant, as if she was looking at something the rest of them couldn't see. “That's not coincidence.”
“That's what Brandon said. He thinks my surges broadcast my location, making myself a target.”
“Which is why you need help learning control,” Ana said gently. “And why Brandon offered the binding.”
“But you’re not sure you can trust him,” Dani guessed.
“No,” Muriel admitted.
“Why?”
“My father was a mage. He left my mother when she was pregnant with me.”
“Maybe he had his reasons,” Tedi said, her expression thoughtful.
“You can’t paint all mages with the same brush,” Ryssa commented. “I don’t know Brandon well but the vamps think highly of him, and they’re not exactly the trusting sort.”
“Without Brandon’s help, Matt never would have found me in time, and I’d be mated to Lucas right now,” Jessie reminded her.
That was true, but the niggling little voice in the back of Muriel’s head suggested Brandon’s motivations weren’t completely selfless.
Tedi leaned forward. “Brandon is one of the most genuinely good people I know. When someone needs help, he gives it. No questions asked.”