Chapter 4
FINN
My gaze flicks from Josie to Sebastian in the grip of her spell and a rush of disappointment hits. “Don’t stoop to antics. You’re better than that. Like it or not, he’s part of our bond.”
She doesn’t like it.
It doesn’t take an empath to read her emotions on that one. Especially when he’s showing no respect for witches.
I grip her wrist, and she releases the spell. “The cypress trunk gave me more of a magic boost than I anticipated.”
But even when she closes off the connection, the aftershocks of the spell still have Sebastian twitching on the ground.
Dammit. She can’t go around weakening him in public. His reputation of being ruthless and invincible is what keeps other supernaturals from waging war in the French Quarter.
Josie doesn’t understand the politics of our world yet and her feelings for him are too tangled for her to think about things logically.
Even now, she’s enjoying his pain too much.
When Sebastian lifts his head again, he looks absolutely pissed. His eyes are pure red, and his lip pulls back to reveal one of his pointed fangs.
Josie turns her attention back to Lilian’s story, pretending to be oblivious to Sebastian’s affliction before he turns all that anger her way.
Not that it will do any good. Sebastian won’t take looking weak lightly. This is going to come back to bite her pretty, round ass.
“Go ahead, Lilian,” Josie says.
The elder witch looks from Sebastian to Josie and then swallows. “At that point, the three of us came up with a different tactic. We devised a plan and created a spell that would restore harmony to the city and unite the werewolves and vampires.”
“The unity ritual,” Josie says again.
“That’s right. Gisèle was worried. Magic on that scale is volatile, but Claudette and I believed we could do it with Mother Gaia’s assistance. So, with a ritual prepared, we set out to capture the power of the new moon.”
Rune frowns. “Does a new moon offer more power than a full moon, a waxing, or a waning moon?”
Josie nods. “Oh, yes. A new moon holds not only the potential for the beginning of a new cycle, but also the completion of the previous one. It’s the perfect time to transition into a time of peace.”
“In theory,” Sebastian growls. “Because in reality, everyone here knows exactly how that night went.”
Yes. We do.
Josie sighs and looks at Lilian. “Please, go on.”
The matron witch drags her finger across the ridges of the tree rings of the table. “The ritual was more intense than we anticipated. Gisèle wasn’t strong enough, and the spell drained her life energy. It was threatening to do the same to your grandmother and myself, and we knew we needed to do something quickly.”
The urgency in her voice has Josie’s anxiety spiking, and I place a gentle hand on her thigh under the table to ease her emotions.
“Claudette and I needed something physical to tie the spell to, somewhere to funnel all that excess magic before the power of it sent us prematurely into Mother Gaia’s embrace. We used what we had on us at the time: my great grandmother’s moonstone amulet, and a ceremonial sunstone dagger Claudette brought for protection.”
“They’re witchstones,” Josie mumbles.
Rune reaches across the table to snag two oatmeal cookies from a plate, apparently feeling right at home. I’m surprised he hasn’t put his boots up on the table yet and reclined in his chair.
“What’s a witchstone?” he asks.
“Grand-Mère taught me that witchstones are created by immense amounts of power and emotion combining in the presence of a natural stone. It takes a perfect storm of magic that collides and produces a magical artifact.”
“Sounds powerful,” I say.
“Their magic can be extremely unstable,” Lilian adds. “And because of that, and the conditions of their creation being difficult to reproduce, they are also extremely rare.”
“And worth starting another war over?” I ask.
Rune scrubs a hand through his beard and twirls the braid there. “If the unity ritual created the witchstones, would destroying the stones destroy the unity bonds?”
Josie’s gaze flicks to me. Her long ebony hair is mussed from battle but even stressed, she’s the most fuckable woman I’ve ever seen.
I take her anxiety and send back as much calming energy as I can across the bond we share. The mention of severing the connection leaves a hollowness in both our chests.
“It’s more complicated than that,” Lilian assures us. “The moonstone and the sunstone are, of course, both integral parts of the whole, but the ritual was forged in blood—a blood sacrifice.”
“Gisèle Caron,” Josie says.
“That’s right.”
“But she didn’t willingly sacrifice herself.”
Lilian shrugs. “Nature is very simple. For every action—a reaction. A life for a life. Since life’s blood was an ingredient for sealing the spell, life’s blood must be spilled to reverse it.”
“Beauchamp or Dumont blood,” I say, through clenched teeth.
“That’s right.”
Lilian holds my gaze to let that sink in.
There’s a spark of understanding through the bond I share with Josie, and she frowns. “That’s why Grand-Mère took me and fled.”
I nod. “Her leaving kept you alive and ensured the sacrifice of Gisèle Caron wasn’t made for nothing. As long as Dumont witches lived, no one could break the ritual.”
Lilian offers Josie a sad smile. “Claudette sacrificed more than you know when she left New Orleans. She insisted I do the same, but I couldn’t abandon my sisters.”
Josie stiffens. “Grand-Mère would never abandon the women of her coven. Never.”
“Oh, I don’t blame your grandmother, dear,” she amends quickly. “She wasn’t the only family who cut ties and left New Orleans. But I knew those who stayed would need someone to guide them if we were to survive the fallout of the ritual.”
“And yet we’re barely surviving at all.” The comment draws our attention to a small woman with pin-straight black hair tucked behind her ears. It takes a moment to place the gaunt face but that’s likely because the bruise around her eye has healed since the last time we saw her.
It’s the Moon Witch working for the Algiers pack. The one that came after us at Josie’s family home. She doesn’t look as meek as she did that day, but it’s her.
“Sarah,” Lilian says, using the same tone she had used for her teenage niece. “Now is not the time.”
Sarah frowns. “Now is exactly the time. I’ve watched so many of my sisters be murdered by Egan’s hands alone. One bad mood swing and he kills without a second thought.”
“And the rest of the werewolf packs are no better,” another woman adds.
“Where is the unity in that?” Sarah asks. “How could a spell that’s meant to bring balance end up royally screwing all the witches of the city? Why are we the ones left to suffer?”
“Sit down!” Lilian bangs a fist on the cypress trunk. “This is a discussion for another time.”
“No. Moon Witches are clinging to the echo of what our lives used to be in this city, but it’s never going to be the same. Even if we could—” Sarah cuts off suddenly, collapsing back in her chair.
Frantic fingers scratch at her throat as she chokes and winces.
“She can’t breathe,” Josie says, jumping up from her seat. “Sarah! Are you okay?”
Obviously she isn’t, but I’m not sure there is anything any of us can do to help her stop choking.
Her nails dig into the flesh of her neck as she struggles to catch her breath.
The moment Josie touches her, the magic of the spell hits her, and she glares at Lilian. “What are you doing to her? Stop this.”
The witches around the room look on in sympathy, but no one moves to help Sarah.
I look at Rune, and an unspoken understanding passes between us.
“She’s fine,” Lilian assures Josie, motioning for my mate to sit back down while placing a bony hand over Sarah’s on the table. “Aren’t you, dear?”
The spell releases with her touch and Sarah gasps and then forces a smile. “I’m fine.”
I shake my head. “You spelled your girls so they can’t speak about the amulets or anything relating to your plans.”
Lilian looks annoyed that I figured it out, but doesn’t deny it. “To ensure word doesn’t get back to the wrong ears. If Egan finds out what we are up to, he will kill us all.”
I study the sullen expressions of the women gathered, and their silence makes sense. The Moon Witches have endured so much to survive Egan these last twenty-five years.
Josie’s emotions twist as her heart breaks for them. “How could Mother Gaia let this happen? This can’t be her will. Why would she stand by while so many witches suffer?”
It doesn’t take long before the anguish within her turns to anger. Anger at Mother Gaia? Anger for Sarah and the rest of the witches of New Orleans—Sun and Moon?
My poor, sweet witch. “What do you want from us?” I ask. “We’re not bound to keep the secret like your rogue coven.”
Lilian scowls at me. “No, but we share a common enemy, and I hope we can put aside our history and be allies to defeat that enemy.”
Sebastian steps behind Josie’s chair and she stiffens as he traps her between him and Lilian’s cold death stare. “What makes you think we need your help?”
The chill in the room cranks up a notch, and I fight not to pull Josie out of the path of hostility arcing between Sebastian and the witch. “If Egan tips the scales of power, the French Quarter will be his first stop on his path of conquest,” Lilian says. “It wouldn’t hurt to have a friend in your back pocket.”
“You can’t possibly know Egan’s plans,” Sebastian scoffs.
“We do. Sarah is our ace in the hole.”
Sebastian looks Sarah up and down with obvious disdain. “She isn’t up to wage your war against the Alpha of the Algiers Pack.”
“Screw you, vampire,” Sarah snaps.
I raise a hand and interrupt the rush of angry murmurs from all around us. “What Sebastian means is that a single witch can’t bear the weight of such an important matter.”
I send Sebastian a warning glare, and he widens his gaze in challenge. Then, after a moment, he pulls himself together and I see his strategical mind kick into gear.
Good. We need a king here, not a hothead.
“What I meant was that it’s strategically illogical for you to believe Egan trusts her. For all you know, Egan smells her deceit and drips little bits of false information to lead you ladies astray. That’s what I would do.”
Lilian’s gaze narrows. “No doubt you would, but despite what you think, Sarah is Egan’s go-to Moon Witch. She is our most valuable asset in taking him down.”
“And he’s not dripping false information,” Sarah adds, pegging Sebastian with a glare. “He forgets about the frail, frightened witch standing in the corner. I’m invisible to him. I’ve overheard more than a few important, private conversations.”
Rune sits back in his chair and shakes his head. “If you wanted to work together, why attack us at Josie’s family’s place? You weren’t pulling any punches there.”
“I wanted to save Josephine from the three of you before she was trapped in a Unity bond and forced to further the vampire bid for dominion over the city.”
Rune pops another cookie into his mouth. How many has he eaten? The platter in the center of the table is almost empty. “Josie doesn’t need saving, sweetheart. At least, not from us.”
There are a lot of skeptical faces around the table and the room as a whole.
I take issue with their disbelief. “We vampires aren’t like the werewolves. We don’t treat our women like animals.”
“That’s a bald-faced lie if I’ve ever heard one,” Sarah challenges. “You keep your witches on hand like dogs to obey your commands.”
I bristle at her tone, but I’m immediately distracted by Josie’s emotions bursting inside her. Her instincts are pushing her to jump to my defense.
She doesn’t, but she wants to.
I can take anything the witches want to throw at us if it brings my witch closer to us. And I understand Sarah’s bitterness. She grew up dealing with the after-effects of the unity ritual while our beautiful Josephine lived a peaceful and oblivious life in another country.
And even if I don’t need it, how cute is it that Josie is getting fired up to defend her mate? I rest a hand on her thigh under the table and squeeze gently.
The gesture is meant to calm her, but it also calms me. “The vampires’ partnership with Sun Witches isn’t without flaw, but I assure you we treat our witches and our unity partners with dignity. Unlike the werewolves, vampires are not controlled by our baser impulses. We are civilized.”
Sarah rolls her eyes and Rune leans forward. “You don’t believe him?” His tone is playful despite the dangerous look in his hazel eyes.
Josie sends him a warning look and I know she doesn’t want us to amp up the tension. Still, there are things that need to be said.
Lilian scowls. “You have been treating us as lesser than for far longer than these last twenty-five years. Vampires and werewolves see witches as an ornament to collect and display your own power.”
“We’re like pets to you,” Sarah adds. “Less than pets—we’re nothing but tools to be used and put away as you see fit.”
She’s a totally different person than the witch we found in Egan’s midst. Could the frail, scared witch persona all be an act?
There’s no reason to add fuel to the fire of their obvious distaste, so I simply sigh and let it go. “I’m sorry you have such a poor view of us.”
“Screw that,” Rune says.
Huh, my Viking sire missed the part where we’re done arguing. I’m shocked.
“Egan is the dog, and there’s nothing we can do about that,” he says. “But if witches are our pets, the witches at Hotel Elysian are some of the most pampered and well-cared-for pets you’ve ever seen. Not a chain or cage in sight.”
“Seriously?” Josie snaps. “I am not your pet.”
He winks at Josie and the smirk on his face tells her he was only teasing. Fuck, man. Read the room.
It is so not the time for jokes.
Everyone’s patience is wearing dangerously thin. Mine included.
“It’s been a long day,” Josie says before the conversation dissolves any further. “I think we can all agree Egan is despicable. And while I can’t speak for Sebastian and the vampires, I want to call the Moon Witches allies in the struggle to eliminate him as a threat.”
She meets my gaze and I sense that she’s hoping I jump in, but I remain a silent observer. Josie needs to establish her footing with the other witches in New Orleans without our influence or interference.
Sebastian and Rune recognize that too because neither of them speak up.
Josie looks exasperated but continues. “I understand the urgency of what we’re up against, but that’s even more reason to be cautious. Let’s call it a day and reconvene after we process everything you’ve told us.”
All eyes shift from her to Lilian, and it’s like the entire cabin holds its breath, waiting for Madame Beauchamp’s response.
“Of course,” she says finally, her mouth slowly turning up in a smile that doesn’t reach her pale eyes. “We’ll see each other again soon.”