Chapter 2
FINN
I’m at Josie’s side the moment the barrier keeping us out of the Moon Witch’s cabin is dropped. “Are ye hurt? When the dust settled in the battle and we found ye gone, I lost my mind.”
“I’m fine.” Touching her as I am, my ability to sense others’ emotions, tells me there is more that she’s upset about, but also that she doesn’t want to talk about it here.
I exhale. “We’ll get you home soon.”
Rune is kneeling on the other side of her chair, pressing her hand to his lips and murmuring in Old Norse.
My sire’s worry started seeping into me the moment we discovered Josie missing at the mausoleum. His anxieties compounding my own and gripping me from the inside.
The chaos of those feelings eases when he makes physical contact, reassuring both of us that she really is okay. It also sends a pulse of relief through the four-way unity bond we share.
“And even better now that you’re here.” Josie shifts in her seat, sure to include Rune in the sentiment. I swear her gaze even flicks to Sebastian, if only for the briefest of moments.
“What about you?” Gentle fingers brush against the stubble of my jaw. “The last thing I remember is you being trapped in Adelaide’s poison-barbed vines. When I woke here, I felt you faintly through the unity bond, but not knowing what happened was…” She trails off, dark eyes shining, and I realize how scared she had been.
“We’re all right now, cher,” Rune promises.
Looking at her now, it’s clear Josie’s captors healed and cleaned her since the Dumont crypt. During the battle against Adelaide, she’d been bruised, battered, and bloody.
Now, her wounds are wrapped and healing beneath a herbal, minty-smelling ointment.
Her treatment—no matter how much I appreciate it—makes no sense.
A kidnapper wouldn’t clean up their prisoner, give them a change of clothes, and invite them to sit down for a cup of tea.
Alarm bells are ringing loudly in my head now that the worry for Josie isn’t clouding my thoughts.
If the Moon Witches didn’t spirit her away to harm her, then why? What use do the Moon Witches have with my Unity Witch? And why are there so many of them gathered in one place?
Perhaps they knew her vampire mates would come to save their Sun Witch. Did they steal Josie to lure us in? Have I led the three of us straight into a trap?
“Boys, I’m fine.” True to her word, I sense only fatigue from Josie when I prod at her mind. She waves away mine and Rune’s concern when we don’t stop fussing. “Honestly, out of the three supernatural races that have kidnapped me, the Moon Witches take the gold for hospitality and accommodations.”
“Ouch, babe.” Rune feigns being hurt and presses a hand over his heart. “At least tell us we came in second and secured the silver.”
Josie chuckles. “Yes, you guys win the silver medal for sure.”
Rune pumps his fist in the air for our victory. “Fucking right we do.”
Both of their moods have lifted significantly. It seems being near one another is enough to set their world right again. Rune and Josephine are good for one another and the realization squeezes my heart like a vise.
I’ve never been the jealous type, but Josephine is different—everything is different with her.
“I don’t think us outranking the wolves is much of an accomplishment, considering how they treated her,” I point out, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice as I rise from my crouch to take the empty seat on the other side of Josie.
“If it helps, you get the silver as a second place for best captors, not only better than the worst.”
“That’s a fine distinction,” Bastian says.
Josie frowns at him but says nothing. “If I could judge you separately from the other two, I would.”
“No doubt,” our king says, his voice flat.
Josie sighs and if she’s as tired as she looks, we need to wrap this up. My hand cups her face, and she leans into the touch with a soft exhale as her eyes slip shut. I sense the fatigue weighing her down, and it’s worse than I originally thought. “Your energy is so weak.”
Her dark gaze pulls me into its depths until she breaks contact and sits straight in her chair again. “Just depleted after everything that happened today. Going up against a high priestess and a werewolf Alpha isn’t my usual weekend warrior workout.”
Neither is raising the dead, though I don’t voice that thought aloud. Josephine’s newfound ability isn’t something to broadcast to the Moon Witches.
Still, she used a lot of energy to raise her ancestors to help us survive the attack. She needs to get home to rest as soon as possible.
“Would someone explain what the fuck is going on here?” Sebastian demands, still hovering in the doorway as if he’s unsure—a very un-Sebastian-like behavior.
The annoyance and anger that radiates off him in waves, however, is extremely in character. “You spelled Josephine from the mausoleum to this shack more than twenty miles away. That’s not an insignificant amount of magic. So, why?”
He finally takes a single menacing step inside, and I kick myself mentally. I should have been keeping a closer eye on him to make sure he doesn’t detonate and go all Jack the Ripper on the Moon Witches in this cabin.
We’re all a little off today, but it goes past that with Sebastian.
Our trusty leader has been growing more and more unpredictable over the years. I didn’t realize exactly how much of him we had lost until a few weeks ago when he snapped and killed our Moon Witch prisoner.
The image of Sebastian’s empty gaze flashes in my mind. He was a completely different person in that moment. It was as if his entire humanity had been stripped away and all that remained was a monster, far beyond mine or Rune’s reach.
I shake the thought from my head. That is a problem for another time.
“Like I said—no manners,” Josephine says to the Moon Witch leader.
“Did you want me to say please and thank you?” Sebastian taunts with a roll of his eyes. “You’re all acting like this is a goddamn high school reunion, catching up over tea and scones, chatting as if we don’t still have the problem of Egan hanging over our heads.”
He has a point—even if he has absolutely zero tact about it. Egan may have turned tail and ran as soon as he realized things weren’t going his way, but he always comes back. It’s only a matter of time before the wolves retaliate.
Sebastian’s scowl grows. “Egan is probably out there now, resuming his search for the real moonstone amulet while we waste time on insignificant things like manners.”
“Oh, yeah. About that.” Josephine holds up a thin chain with two fingers. On the end of it, swaying back and forth, is a round, milky white stone that shines shades of purples and blues with silver detailing holding it in place.
The moonstone amulet.
The real deal this time—not an illusion.
“How?” I ask, struggling to find words.
Looking at it now, up close and in person, it seems impossible that anyone could ever mistake our replica for the authentic piece. Even someone as dense as Egan would have seen right through it had Adelaide not tipped him off. The two amulets are nearly indistinguishable in look, but there is an incredible aura about the original that could never be faked.
And Josephine somehow has the powerful artifact dangling from the tips of her fingers like she pulled it from the ether.
Sebastian bolts into the cabin, one of the witches squealing at the suddenness of the movement as he blinks from one place to another. “Where in the nine circles of Hell did you get that?”
He reaches to snatch it from her, but Josie pulls the amulet back, holding the magical artifact close to her chest and staring Sebastian down as if daring him to take it from her.
“Turns out the Moon Witches had it all along,” she explains.
“It is my necklace, after all,” the leader says, holding a bony hand out to Josephine, who reaches across the table and gives over the amulet without question.
“Lilian Beauchamp,” Sebastian mutters, almost to himself. “I knew I recognized you.”
I frown at Sebastian, my gaze following his, locked on the elder witch as she clasps the chain around her neck, the moonstone lying on her sun-spotted chest. I never met her personally, but Lilian Beauchamp was a casualty of the war twenty-five years ago. Among the four dozen or so witches who perished, Lilian was one of the most prominent.
Like the Dumonts, the Beauchamps are one of the original founding families of witches. The Beauchamp’s control over their magic and connection with the witch goddess Gaia is said to be unrivaled—or, at least it was.
The Beauchamp line of succession was supposed to have ended with Lilian. But if Sebastian is right, and that girl called her ‘Auntie’ earlier, then clearly we’re out of the loop.
“It took me a moment to recognize you,” Sebastian continues. “The last time we saw one another, you weren’t nearly as…weathered. Not nearly as cantankerous, either.”
“It is a privilege to experience the aging process as Mother Gaia intended.” Despite her words, the corner of Lilian’s mouth twitches. Sebastian is doing a fine job of getting under her—admittedly age-weathered—skin.
I shoot him a warning look. We still aren’t sure whether the Moon Witches are allies or enemies. At this point, I would settle for something between the two—a solid middle ground. Either way, it’s in our best interest not to insult them to their faces.
“Didn’t you die?” Rune asks, continuing to tip the needle further towards the ‘enemies’ side of things and making me long for a vacation.
“Obviously not. You vampires aren’t as swift as you are fast.” The child chuckles at her play on words, and I fight not to roll my eyes.
Kids these days.
The girl looks eleven or twelve years old, but the teenager sass in her tone is heavy. Rune sticks his tongue out at her, no more mature than a teenager himself.
“Faking my death was a necessary sacrifice to keep the moonstone amulet away from those who would abuse its power,” Lilian says, drawing us back to the point of our conversation.
Sebastian grunts. “More like you’ve been avoiding the consequences of your ritual.”
Lilian fixes him with a glare. “I am trying to make it right and protect my coven.”
“By hiding in the swamp for twenty-five years and leaving your coven to suffer under the oppression of the werewolves?”
“Enough.” Josephine’s voice booms with a commanding pulse of magic that quiets the room as effectively as if she had enthralled everyone to obey her. “Both sides have grievances against the other, but nothing will be solved by throwing insults at one another. Boys, either sit down and shut your mouth so we can have a civil discussion, or leave.”
Sebastian raises a dark brow, the heavy weight of his response hanging in the long stretch of a silent moment.
As much as I hate him continuing to pick on Josie, it’s better that Sebastian directs his attitude towards her, rather than continue to provoke Lilian. Every word out of his mouth aggravates her more and drives us further from our goal.
Except, it isn’t anger I sense from him now—it’s amusement.
Without another word, Sebastian raises his hands in surrender, then places himself at the edge of the room, sinking into the shadows next to the window with a single half-burnt candle flickering on the sill.
It’s too much to hope he’ll remain as unobtrusive while Lilian and her coven fill us in on what we need to know—but one can hope.