Chapter 25 Luciu #2
Allu nods and grins around the car. “They neatly wrote us into a corner and have managed to keep control of the situation. But you’re changing all that.
This will be tough. But stand firm knowing the convocation is ready to put their full power behind you.
Gracie is going to lead our charge as the one with the most evidence of being wronged.
Gentlemen, we do not speak unless spoken to.
Even me. The less I say, the more they’ll sweat.
Our power is in our silence. In how much we make them guess at what we know.
Do you know what you’re going to say, Gracie? ”
“A version of what I said to you. More details. Names.”
“Good. If I may make a suggestion?” She nods,, and he continues. “Take a deep breath before you begin and slow down. The coven elders are old and hard of hearing. You don’t want to come off as a young hothead. You speak beautifully, and your arguments are based in fact. Make sure they hear you.”
My mind races with everything I cannot say. Even thinking it makes my gut burn.
I haven’t had a lot of time to think through this, but why would the elders bind me to Gracie given what I know?
The inability to discuss the work is thorough, but not perfect.
I can’t help but think that this is a case of the right hand not knowing what the left has done.
Should I even be here? Is my presence putting Gracie and her friends in even more danger?
Unfortunately, the drive is too short for my thoughts to run their course. We’re pulling up to the curb in front of the old building with its iron fencing and tall hedges. It looks like something out of a creepy old movie. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were intentional.
“Come. Let us assemble,” Allu declares.
Shit.
I haven’t thought it through enough.
My palms sweat, and there is a decidedly painful pinch in my gut.
What if I’m a danger to Gracie? A Trojan Horse, so to speak?
Fuck.
And I can’t speak a word of it.
I follow the others, assembling on the sidewalk. Gracie comes to me and loops her arm through mine.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Not really.”
“Don’t worry. We’re in this together.”
I hate that I can’t tell her. “Maybe I should stay behind?”
“No.” She shakes her head and tips her hat back a little to perch at a jaunty angle. “You’re a core piece of this. They have to answer for what they’ve done.”
But what about the work I’ve done?
Gracie tugs me forward, and I follow. Poppy and Briella flank us with the others bringing up the rear.
I feel the tingle of the wards as we pass through the work I did.
The coven headquarters appears to the mundane eye as a dusky, raspberry-colored Victorian house.
What normal people don’t see is the stone, castle-like addition.
It’s ostentatious and straight out of a bad horror movie.
I don’t know what they were thinking when they chose to go this direction.
And it can’t be blamed on people a hundred years ago.
The addition was done in the nineties. It’s new.
The double doors leading into the smaller, older structure swing open.
They operate much like automatic doors. At one point prior to the convocation, there were strict wards on who could come and go.
But the convocation was adamant about different parties needing to visit and do business with the covens directly.
I suppose that’s why the rest of the structure was made. For security.
A trio of the current board of elders wait for us, including Briella’s mother along with two elders I don’t recognize. These aren’t the ancient elders. Those bags of bones never leave their crypt.
“Briella, darling. What is the meaning of this?” Mrs. Kyteler asks. She’s wearing a modern sheath dress with a lace-trimmed matching jacket in black. Her auburn hair is shot through with silver, but her face is as smooth as a youth’s.
While Mrs. Kyteler is the focus of this trio, she’s not the one I’m watching. It’s the elder to her right, one of the witches that oversaw my work, that I can’t help but notice. And he hasn’t looked at me once. Very peculiar.
“This isn’t a friendly family visit, Mother.” Briella’s tone is haughty and frosty. A lot like her mother’s, only colder.
“No, it’s not.” Gracie draws in an even, measured breath. “Mrs. Kyteler, we are here to log an official complaint against the coven.”
“A complaint?” Mrs. Kyteler stares around the collective group with wide eyes while the two men flanking her trade nervous glances.
They’re scared.
It’s strange being on this side of things
“A complaint against the coven should be coven business,” the man I don’t know says.
“Allu is here as the convocation representative,” Gracie says smoothly. “Per the convocation bylaws, when witches need an advocate, a representative will be provided.”
“These men—”
Gracie doesn’t miss a beat. “These men are my family.”
“But, Mr. Kyteler—”
“You mean Luciu?” Now her voice goes frigid to the point I almost want to poke my nose to make sure it’s still there.
“He isn’t a member of the coven, dearie,” Mrs. Kyteler says.
Gracie turns her head, brow arched, and meets my gaze. “Then should I take that as your admission that you were unaware of an illegally performed blood binding?”
“What?” Mrs. Kyteler gasps.
“Yes, Luciu was summoned and granted membership by way of a blood binding. I never consented to this, and he was not advised of the restrictive nature of the binding. We are here—Briella, Poppy, and I—to log our formal complaint against being bound against our will.”
Suddenly, three sets of unfriendly eyes are locked on me.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m only now realizing this.
A smile slowly spreads across my face. I can’t help it. And the wider my smile gets, the more the two men start to visibly sweat.
They might have bound me, but there’s a way around it. I can’t tell Gracie what’s below us, but there has to be a way to inform them. And I’ll figure it out. But these people? They don’t know I haven’t shared that information already.
Allu was right.
Our silence is power.
I grin back at the witches and fight the urge to laugh maniacally.
“I’m sure there’s been a simple miscommunication,” Mrs. Kyteler says.
“I doubt that,” Gracie says. “The coven is aware of our intent to withdraw our membership, as is our right. When the loophole presented itself, you took the opportunity to bind us in whatever way you thought possible. Well, you picked the wrong witches to fuck with. From here on, all communication between us will be handled by our convocation representative. Any attempt to communicate with us directly will be interpreted as an act of intimidation.”
Mrs. Kyteler must see the proverbial writing on the wall. She sighs and looks past the girls to Allu. “This is witch business. The convocation promised it would stay out of our affairs.”
“Ah, but any member of the convocation can request a representative to mediate disagreements.” Allu steps up and fans a stack of printed pages. “Looking at the evidence the ladies presented to us…”
The woman’s jaw flaps, and her eyes leap from person to person.
They didn’t anticipate a direct confrontation. Not like this.
They over-played their hand, and Gracie has called their bluff.
“Mrs. Kyteler, here is a new check that will satisfy our debt to the coven. Please process that at your earliest convenience. Once that’s done, we can schedule a meeting to cover the next steps for our separation from the coven.
I’m sure it will be educational since it’s never been done.
” Gracie thrusts an envelope into the woman’s hand then pitches her voice lower.
“And if you do anything, and I mean anything, to me or mine again, there will be hell to pay. I will do everything in my power to make sure you regret fucking with us.”
“Language,” Mrs. Kyteler snaps.
Gracie snorts and threads her fingers with mine.
“Mr. Kyteler,” the man snaps.
Gracie and Ezra are suddenly standing in front of me. There’s this crackle of purple energy off Gracie while the shadows seem to cling to Ezra in an ominous way.
“Are you seriously going to start now?” Gracie demands.
“This has nothing to do with you,” the man says.
“You are speaking to my blood-bound husband.”
The man flinches back. By witch law, I’m basically Gracie’s property. Her possessiveness warms me from the inside, but it’s Ezra’s low growl that makes me shiver.
“I believe we’ve said all that needs saying.” Allu’s tone is cheerful and breaks the tension.
The farewells are bitter and biting, but we make a quick exit from the building. I’m acutely aware of Gracie’s hand in mine and Ezra’s hand on my shoulder.
I’ve never been part of something like this. Never thought I would be. It’s overwhelming.
At the car, Ezra opens the driver’s door for me. I turn to say something. But Gracie claps her hands on my cheeks and pulls me down for a brief, chaste kiss. It’s over almost as soon as it begins.
“Let’s go,” she says as she turns from me.
The next hour is a bit of a blur. We return to the convocation office and talk to Allu at length about the situation. Only once that’s done do we disperse. Some go home while most of us head to the shop.
I’m one of the last to enter through the rear entrance while someone is belting out a song from the front of shop.
People are howling with laughter, which feels so strange after a few tense hours.
I edge out from behind the counter and pause at the sight of an old woman in a purple tracksuit grinding on Gracie while clutching her walker with one hand.
“What…?” I mutter.
Ezra is suddenly next to me, sighing deeply. “You don’t want to know.”
“Sofia, how did you know I needed to see you today?” Gracie reaches out and pulls the woman in for a hug, and the two begin to sway together.
“That’s sweet,” I say.
Ezra shudders. It’s a full-body reaction that leaves him with a haunted look on his face. “You say that now…”