Chapter 32 Nyx #2
Mom just said there’s going to be a Council hearing.
Brynne Pembroke
Oh Nyx’s going to love that.
Tori Hektreia
It’s okay, she’ll take care of everything.
Mmmm yeah. I’ll believe it when I see it. As I scroll and see Thane and Killian’s names pop up, I don’t take my own advice, because why the fuck are they texting me?
Thane Rorvik
Are you okay? Mercer called me in to help with Luther and told me you’re here too.
Killian Hastings
That was a hell of a show, baby girl. 10/10, no notes.
Unknown
Congratulations on surviving your epiphaneia.
This is Roth.
I drop my phone onto the bed like it’s just burned me and stare at it, half expecting Roth to text me again just because he knows I’ll freak the fuck out.
After a quick text to Milo and the girls group chat to let them know I made it back to my room, I put my phone on silent without responding to the others.
Instead, I brace myself for whatever Brandt’s research turned up.
Which is practically nothing—the first document is mostly just citations from texts where Bloodwitches were mentioned, mostly legends and tales, except the one about the creation of vampires.
It’s a gruesome account from the housemaid who found the witch drained of blood and limbs strewn around her destroyed cottage.
Whoever wrote it down emphasized the witch’s missing grimoire, and my stomach drops.
I’ve caught bits and pieces from Tori, Evie, and Brynne about witchy stuff like that.
Every coven has a grimoire that tracks family trees, members, and historical events, and also things that they’ve discovered or created like spells, rituals, potion recipes.
With the Hektreia coven surviving hundreds of generations, theirs is like…
the witch equivalent of the Library of Alexandria.
If a Bloodwitch was powerful enough to single-handedly create an entirely new magical species, even accidentally, what else could be in her grimoire?
Unfortunately, there’s nothing about where Bloodwitch powers to come from—no mention of being passed down through generations or otherwise inherited.
But I begin to notice a pattern the more I read—no matter where a Bloodwitch appears throughout history, there’s a ripple effect through time.
Sometimes the world changes for the better. Most of the time for worse.
By the time the sun sets, my stomach is in knots.
I choke down a granola bar to shut it up and text Tori, asking her to meet me at my dorm tomorrow and tell me everything she knows about the Council and how it operates.
And maybe more witchy stuff like familiars, since the fucking cat is now yowling outside my window.
I open it just enough for the scrawny furball to slip through and leap onto my bed, where he flops down and lifts his leg in the air.
“If you clean your balls on my pillow again, I’ll get you neutered.” He stops with his tongue stuck in blep, and lays down to knead my blanket instead.
“Yeah… definitely going to ask Tori about that.”
The Headmaster’s office looks the same on Monday morning as it did when I met with him and Brandt on my first day, except now Roth, Thane, and Killian are standing behind me as we all wait for the portal to activate in the ancient floor mirror.
Church and Brandt talk softly amongst themselves while I try to ignore the other three.
“You never answered my text,” Roth whispers as his heat engulfs my back, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing how nervous he makes me.
“I never gave you my phone number.” I glance over my other shoulder at Thane and Killian—it had to have been one of them.
Roth’s breath is hot on my neck when he speaks next. “You’d do well to remember there’s very little that can stop me from getting what I want.”
Even as I suppress a shiver, I seethe quietly. “Why are you even here?”
“Someone had to give Luther’s testimony.”
“He couldn’t have just fucking written it down?” I frown.
“We’ve also been called as witnesses—”
I turn to face him and glare, crossing my arms. “How can you be a witness to something you didn’t see?”
“—and as future Junior Councilmen we have an obligation to advocate for and protect our fellow students from any threats.”
“Oh yeah?” I quirk my eyebrow, “then why didn’t you protect me from him?” Church clears his throat from behind us and I turn back to them.
“Are you ready?” Church gestures to the portal.
“Can’t fucking wait,” I whisper under my breath, and Killian chuckles behind me.
Just like that night in my apartment, the runes etched into the mirror frame glow white and the desilvered surface ripples.
It shatters around Church’s body when he steps through first, and Brandt motions for me to go next.
The glass fractures once more when I reach out and disturb the surface, making my fingertips go numb.
Before I can chicken out, I take a deep breath and step through.
For a split second, it feels like falling into icy water, hearing the frozen surface crack and break from somewhere above me. The next moment, I’m stepping onto shining marble floors as the atrium’s stained-glass ceiling creates a kaleidoscope of color that floods the entry room.
I know we’re in New York City somewhere, but Church only gave me the broad strokes of how today would go. “Where are we?” I ask him, but he’s not the one who answers.
“Well, you’re definitely not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.”
I whip around when I hear Augustine’s deadpan voice and holy fuck, I almost leap into her arms at the sight of her familiar face in this unfamiliar place as the others exit through the portal.
She’d hate it.
“If it’s not the Wicked Witch of the West.” I scoff. “Where’s your better half?”
The dozens of rings in her long black braids sparkle in the multi-colored light as she shrugs. “Tracking down our next victim.”
“Let me guess, they get hand-holding and tea?”
“Oh for sure,” she volleys back.
I tsk. “Lucky fuck.”
Church interrupts us before we can pick up right where we left off so many months ago. “Ms. Hanover, lovely to see you again.”
“Ditto, your Holiness.” He bows her head in mock deference.
Church only sighs as Brandt shakes her hand. “Will you please lead us to the Council Chambers?”
“Of course, follow me.” I’m surprised when she loops her arm through mine and pulls me with her through the winding hallways. For just a moment, I feel less like a prisoner walking to their execution. When we get far enough ahead of the others, I lean in and ask, “Your Holiness?”
“His last name is “Church”. Who’s the head of the Church? The Pope.” I laugh under my breath, but it dies on my lips when we finally arrive in front of a set of large doors and she pulls me in for a hug.
“Shut up and listen: answer their questions and nothing more. Let Brandt and Church do the talking. No on in there is your friend, so don’t piss them off.
” We separate just as the other come around a corner, and she opens one of the doors.
Church enters first, followed by Brandt.
Roth gestures for me to go next and once again, I’m hyperaware of his body heat at my back.
I join Church and Brandt at the table in front of the semi-circular dais, but Roth, Thane, and Killian walk around and stand behind their fathers.
I’m more grateful than ever that Tori shared everything she new about he Council when she stare me down.
Roth’s father, Renard Kovacs, sits in the middle as Council Chairman.
Killian’s father, Preston Hastings, sits at his right, followed by Thane’s father, Soren Rorvik, Marcus Falke, and his son Cyrus Falke, Luther’s father and older brother, respectively.
To his left, Vivica Hektreia, Head of the Witch’s Council, Amadeus Mondragon, King of Shifters and head of the Shifter Council, the Unseelie half of the Fae Council, Corvus Altair, and the interim Head of the Vampire Council, Armand Foucault.
As they introduce themselves, I give them my best polite “customer service” smile and mentally prepare for the shitshow.
Renard is a cold, hard man who looks at me like a shiny new toy. Preston leers, but his smirk is insidious in contrast to Killian’s impishness. Marcus and Cyrus make no attempt to conceal their shared eagerness. Soren looks at me with an unnerving hunger.
It’s easy to see the family resemblance between Vivica and her daughters.
She’s beautiful, but her warm smile never reaches her eyes.
I bristle when Amadeus looks at me like I’m nothing more than a bug on his shoe—this piece of shit exiled and disfigured his son, for fuck’s sake.
He deserves to fucking rot. Corvus and Armand are the only two Tori didn’t have as much information on.
With so few Fae left on Earth, they have no reason to interact much with the other Councils.
Armand merely nods when Renard introduces him and flicks his eyes to Vivica when the hearing starts, but I still notice.
“Headmaster Church, Grandmaster Brandt, Ms. Byrke. The Council has called this hearing to understand exactly what transpired during your epiphaneia and the implications of your new abilities to the students of Dreadhurst and the community at large. We have reviewed the written testimonies provided by Headmaster Church, Grandmaster Brandt, and Mr. Falke as provided by Mr. Kovacs, and will be recording Ms. Byrke’s oral testimony at this time.
Each Council member will be allotted ten minutes to ask questions of all three witnesses following the oral testimony, after which the Council will deliberate on the most appropriate path forward. ”
Renard grins, and his emotionless gaze is less “benevolent leader” and more “rabid hyena”. But I grew up in Lynden, where people who believe everything they see aren’t usually seen again.
“Ms. Byrke, please recount the series of events that led to your epiphaneia and what you experienced.”