Warlock 3 Preview Chapters (Patreon)

This is half of what I planned to post this coming Sunday, but my editor lobbied for releasing these mid-week. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not, because I'm pretty sure you're gonna want the next three ...

Chapter 12

“Why isn’t it working?”

Did you know Heartfire has limits?

Apparently that was news to Rachel, too.

“Because I’m exhausted?”

“Hmph. That’s what you said the last six times, but Heartfire still worked.”

I groaned. I was beginning to think Heartfire didn’t entirely rejuvenate, but maybe pushed all the tiredness off for a while, because I certainly felt like I was getting hit with the full effect of the last … I reached up to the ledge around the cottage’s massive bed to check my phone … seven hours.

I pulled Rachel closer to me, and tried to ignore the purple flames flickering from the hand she had around my limp shaft.

It still felt pretty good, but I was certain nothing more was going to happen.

“We have to get up for class in an hour,” I tried mentioning. “Then the Council session.”

Rachel hmphed again, but let go of my shaft and laid her hand on my chest.

“More tonight?” she asked.

“Probably,” I said, trying to set some expectations.

There was no telling what the result of the Council meeting was going to be and I didn’t want to make any promises.

“Can you at least drain me again, or is that sore, too?”

I chuckled. That I could do — barely.

Between my three resonants and Rachel’s, there should be just enough space to hold another round of Rachel’s Passion without stretching too much. I thought both of us were going to need a workroom if this kept up, though.

“It’ll get better in a few days,” Rachel whispered.

“What?”

I wasn’t sure I could handle better — if it hadn’t been for Rachel’s Heartfire, I don’t think I’d have survived the night as it was.

“New-bound Passion,” Rachel said. “It’ll settle down in a few days. It just feels good to let loose.”

“I bet,” I said, thinking of how tightly controlled Rachel always was before. I ran fingers down Rachel’s bare back. “Don’t get too much better, though.”

Rachel shivered, then shivered again as I connected our resonants and began draining her Passion store. We lay like that for a while, dozing in and out of sleep, with Rachel making little contented sounds until it was time to get ready for breakfast and class.

After the initial exclamations as we told Hannah, Brittany, and Priscilla that Rachel was now part of my coven, the breakfast conversation had both Rachel and I staring down at our plates and flushing red as the other girls spent the morning speculating on how things had gone the night before.

“I think … three hours sleep,” Brittany said.

Sam snorted. “You think there was sleep?”

“Well, there had to be some —”

“Heartfire,” Sam coughed into her hand.

“Oh … oh!”

Priscilla gave Rachel a speculative look. “That’s handy.”

It went downhill from there, and I was almost grateful to go to History class. Not at all grateful for the Combat class after that, because Rachel wasn’t in it — yet. I had a sneaking suspicion that both Cassandra and Rachel were going to wind up in our combat class and probably Mel’s extra class, as soon as the dust settled.

None of us discussed the upcoming Council session, though we couldn’t say the same for the rest of the girls in the cafeteria. We were clearly the object of whispers and speculation. Again.

Friday afternoon lunch service was ended early, so that the cafeteria could be cleared and set up properly for the Council session. That consisted of folding up all the tables and rolling them into the space that usually held the onesies table, then taking the stacks of plastic, metal-legged chairs from a storage room and setting them up in rows.

I found it sort of amusing that the witches’ Special Council Session was going to have middle-school assembly vibes, and wondered if that was part of Prima Rosethorn’s intent.

We, my coven, watched from the doorway for a while, then the waiting became so oppressive that I decided we should take a walk while we waited instead — unfortunately, it was a grey, drizzly day, appropriate to my mood, even if the scent of some early-blooming flowers was in the air.

I stopped walking.

Why was I in a bad mood?

Yeah, we were facing whatever this Council session was about, but even that shouldn’t be making me feel bad today, not after spending the night with Rachel. I’d even managed to doze off a few times this morning, waking to that same beautiful witch rolling on top of me and peppering my neck and cheeks with kisses while she giggled, “I’ve been thinking about you all morning — time to drain me again!”

I was honestly starting to wonder if resonants could get sore and chafed, because mine were certainly on that path.

On the other hand, beautiful girls keeping you up all night, giggling “Just one more?” in your ear, and asking things like, “Would it be different if I was upside-down?” wasn’t something one should really complain about.

Warlock problems.

I think Rachel would be perfectly happy if I had a resonant stuck in her, and kept her mana levels so low she was barely able to function, twenty-four hours a day.

To be honest, if it hadn’t been for the very real possibility something like that might make my dick explode, I’d give it a try.

I accept the Peril! For science!

Shut up!

I wondered if keeping my dick in one of the girls all day would muffle the fucking thing. We could have special pants made, maybe.

For science!

I shook my head, ignoring my dick in favor of running my gaze over my three witches, who’d stopped a few steps ahead and turned to face me.

“Why do you have that stupid grin on your face?” Cassandra asked.

I shrugged. “I’m happy — it’s a good day.”

Cassandra looked at me like I was crazy and I chuckled.

She shook her head in confusion. “We’re about to get dragged in front of the Council for whatever my mom has planned and you think that’s a good day?”

I chuckled again, because Sam and Rachel were looking at me the same way.

“I have the three of you — how could any day be bad?”

The girls’ faces changed, transforming from confusion to … something else. I couldn’t tell quite what, but apparently my dick could.

We’re getting laid tonight!

Shut up. We get laid every night.

We’re getting laid good tonight!

I didn’t bother to argue that was an every-night thing, too, because the girls were still staring at me, lips parted. Sam was biting hers; Rachel was running a tongue over hers like there were remnants of something particularly tasty there; and Cassandra was swallowing repeatedly.

I was beginning to wonder if we’d make it to tonight — or even back to the cottage — before the girls did whatever was behind those looks to me.

I was almost disappointed when Mel cleared her throat — I hadn’t even noticed her approaching.

“Is there some particular reason you’re all standing around in the rain?” Mel asked.

Sam shrugged. “I’m already soaked, a little rain won’t make a difference.”

The rain was only a slight drizzle, so none of us were exactly “soaked” — Mel frowned, then shrugged.

Rachel squirmed. “This is kind of uncomfortable,” she whispered to Sam. “Is it always like this?”

Sam shook her head. “Only when he says things like that.”

“Ah. I’ve obviously missed some things,” Mel said with a nod and a grin. “Would you like to relax in my rooms until the Council session, or are you seeking to alleviate some more … private tensions.”

“Your rooms sound good,” I said quickly, despite Rachel’s pout.

Mel chuckled. “Come along then.”

We were moving somewhat against the tide, as many of the staff and faculty were heading for the cafeteria in the residence building. Most of those we passed gave us looks and even the occasional nod — their anger over the Council’s earlier actions making them support us, at least in this.

Mel’s rooms were comfortable, if small, and the four of us settled on the couch while Mel went into the small kitchen alcove. She came back in a moment with a tray of tea and cookies, despite, I was pretty sure, not being in the kitchen long enough to actually boil water with a kettle or something. We all took cups and a cookie while Mel smiled tolerantly at how the four of us were squished onto the couch together.

“There, now,” Mel said, settling back with her own tea. “Better than standing around in the rain, yes?”

I nodded and the girls murmured agreement.

We sat in a comfortable silence for a while, then Rachel lifted her backpack from where it rested by her feet and pulled a large, leather-bound book from it.

“You’ve been reading that since Monday,” I commented.

Rachel just nodded, turning pages.

“We’re supposed to be relaxing,” I told her. “Do you really want to study now?”

“It’s not classwork,” Cassandra said, and Rachel nodded. “It’s the Principium.” She looked at me and sighed. “The Principium Methodus — it’s like, the mundanes’ Robert’s Rules of Meetings or something.”

“Order,” Rachel said, quickly scanning each page. “Robert’s Rules of Order.”

“Ours was first,” Sam muttered.

“So, like, all the meeting rules and stuff?” I asked.

Cassandra nodded. “Yes, but more than that. It has some, sort of, fundamental witch laws in it, too.”

“Are you trying to memorize it?” I asked Rachel.

“We need to be prepared,” Rachel said. “And I need a distraction.”

“You read it three times yesterday.”

Rachel shrugged, not taking her eyes from the spidery script. “I really needed a distraction yesterday — and we need to be prepared.”

“Rachel’s right,” Cassandra said. “We need to be ready for anything. I just wish I could figure out what exactly she’s going to do.”

“Sororix Blake?” Sam asked. “It could be Sororix Prescott, too, you know.”

Cassandra nodded. “Maybe. I know she’s up to something, though — I just can’t think of what’s most likely.”

“Archimagira Winthrop said it was just testimony, though,” I said. “If that’s what we’re summoned for, how can she do something different?”

“There are, like, six different ways she could hijack the meeting, no matter what’s on the agenda,” Cassandra said, “and that’s just what I can think of. But what does she want? I mean, we know she wants Noah, but how does she think she’s going to get him?” She shook her head. “We need to be ready for anything.”

I wasn’t entirely convinced, despite everyone else being convinced there was some danger here.

“What can she do, though?” I asked. “We’re independent, right? Why can this Council do anything to us?”

Cassandra snorted. “Because they can — if the Council votes to do something, the whole Conclave, all the Families, will support it, even those who might be initially opposed, because they need to present a united front, no matter what in-fighting there is.”

I gestured at the book Rachel was reading. “If they do anything they want, then why are we bothering with the rules?”

“Because anything they do will be within those rules,” Cassandra said and Rachel nodded. “It might be convoluted as fuck, but it’ll be backed up by the rules. If they break their own rules, then there are no rules — and they don’t want to face each other without rules.”

“It can’t get too bad, though, can it?” I looked at the girls, then nodded at Mel. “Mel will be there, right?”

“I will be there,” Mel assured us.

“Okay, then — maybe we can just have her do her thing right up front and be done with it.”

“My ‘thing,’ dear?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Go all Blackwood on them.”

“And what do you see that entailing?”

“I, ah, you know.” I looked at the girls for some assistance, but they were pointedly not looking at either me or Mel. “Bully them, like you did Prima Rosethorn to get me in here.”

“I see,” Mel said. “I’m a bully, then?”

“Well, no, but — come on! You beat the crap out of her — you can do that to the Council, right?”

“I suppose I could, but I’d rather not.”

“Why?” I really wanted to know, because wouldn’t that be simplest?

Mel sighed. “It’s been a great many years since I’ve been actively involved with things, dear — Felicity and I have spent much of our time alone, and that’s our preference.” She shrugged. “I rather suspect the majority of the Council has come to believe some of the stories about me are either exaggerated or outright fabrications. They remember enough to leave me and mine alone for most things, but in order to influence them to any great degree, I’d have to demonstrate my power, and that would be … problematic.”

“Why?”

“Right now they’re wary of her,” Cassandra said. “If Melaina shows them the kind of power she’d need to in order to push them around? Then they’d be afraid of her, and that’s very different. If she really has the kind of power in the stories.”

Mel smiled. “The stories have become a bit understated, but, yes, if necessary I’d demonstrate that power for those who might doubt it.” She sighed. “Until now, I was relying on that wariness, along with the combination of Willowmere’s traditional neutrality and Evelina’s somewhat overdeveloped protectiveness of her students to be the main things to hold them off. A direct confrontation between me and the Council isn’t in anyone’s best interest — better they come to a satisfactory decision without that.”

The rest of us drank tea and ate cookies while Rachel and Cassandra poured over the Principium until it was close to time for the session.

As we left the admin building we could see at least two dozen black SUVs parked in the Willowmere driveway loop, surrounded by more witches in the black skirt, heels, and jacket look of the one who’d served me the summons. They stood in clusters around the SUVs while an equal number of Willowmere staff idled about the quad — coincidentally, maybe, forming a line between those witches and the rest of the campus.

The main floor of the residence building was filled with students who gave us a variety of looks as we passed, making our way to the cafeteria.

More of the Secret Service witches blocked the doorway. One of them stepped forward as we approached.

“Names?” she asked, looking at her phone.

“Melaina Seraphina Blackwood, dear,” Mel said, giving “dear” a very different tone than she normally used, “I’m quite certain I’m on more than one of your Council’s lists.”

“Magistra Blackwood,” the witch nodded, voice bland. “Faculty is seated in the left rear of the auditorium.”

She looked at me.

“The Ashe coven,” I told her, then taking a cue from Mel, “I believe we’re expected.”

She ran her eyes over us, then frowned.

“I have the Ashe coven — three. Noah, Samantha, and Cassandra.”

“And Rachel,” I said, nodding to Rachel. “She’s new.”

Secret Service witch shook her head. “Three. Noah, Samantha, and Cassandra. The other witch will not be admitted.”

I felt the girls tense and my jaw did as well. That was a fucking insult — even I knew it. A coven acts as one, a coven is one. That had been one thing I kept hearing ever since I’d found out I was a warlock. It was the one thing Magistra Hawke taught in my Covens class that I agreed with, and, list or not, we should all be let in together.

I nodded and put an arm around Rachel, turning from the doorway.

“I’ll let Prima Rosethorn know the Council wishes to reschedule the session,” I told the black-clad witch, took Sam’s hand after gesturing for Cassandra to follow, and started back toward the quad.

Cassandra and Rachel were convinced we needed to show a strong front to the Council, so we might as well get started.

“Wait!”

I ignored her and kept walking.

Suddenly Secret Service witch was in front of me — I hadn’t even seen her coming — and four others surrounded us.

“You are required by the Council,” she said, pointing at the cafeteria.

I glanced back and saw Mel giving me a smile of approval, so fuck it.

“Not without my full coven,” I told her.

“Those on the list will enter. Those not on the list will not.”

I smiled at her. “Then find someone smart enough to type ‘Rachel’ and fix the fucking problem, witch.”

More bodies were pressing around us and I thought their backup had arrived, so I started cycling mana through the channels of my Strength affinity. If this was going to go further, I might not have a lot of skill at other magic yet, but I’d thrown a fucking vampire into a fucking wall, so I figured I could do the same to Agent Resting McWitchface here.

Then I realized who the backup was for as Magistra Cassian spoke from the ring of teachers surrounding us.

“Coven is one,” Magistra Cassian said.

The agent in front of me glanced at Magistra Cassian and the other teachers.

“A moment,” the other witch said, eyes going blank, then: “The witch may enter.”

I’d heard “witch” used enough since coming to Willowmere that I could tell when it was an insult — especially since I’d just used it that way — but repressed the urge to see if witches were as aerodynamic as vampires.

“Girls,” I warned, feeling Sam and Cassandra tense beside me as well.

“Thank you,” I told the witch. “What’s your name? I’d like to remember you for your help in this.”

The name was going in my one-day bucket, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Irrelevant,” the witch said, gesturing toward the cafeteria. “You may enter the session.”

The teachers around us left, but not before Magistra Cassian spit to the side and muttered, “Malkoto Chekistche bez dosie[1].”

Chapter 13

“I’ll leave you here, dear,” Mel whispered as we entered the cafeteria. She nodded toward the front row. “Your seats will be up there.”

The room was crowded and I didn’t recognize most of those present, except the Willowmere faculty who were in the back rows where Mel was joining them. The rest of the crowd were all witches I didn’t recognize, no students, so I assumed they were either part of the Council or, what, support staff, or just an audience?

We made our way to the front row where there were three seats set apart from all the others and another black-suited witch was adding a fourth.

The crowd milled about for a while, with muted conversations and those clusters of people you get when you bring a bunch together who haven’t seen each other in a while. The stage was set with a long table and thirteen chairs.

“Is the Council a coven?” I whispered to Cassandra.

She shook her head, “No, for a session like this, it’s just thirteen members. One from each of the nine most powerful Families, then four floating members who represent the rest. Unless it’s a full Conclave where all the Family heads would be present.” She looked around the auditorium. “A lot of those are here anyway — just to watch, I guess.”

“Shit,” Sam whispered.

I looked around for her mother, but didn’t see her. Instead another witch I didn’t recognize was striding toward us. Two of the black-clad witches were rushing toward her, and I braced myself for whatever the fuck this was now.

“That’s Katrina’s mother,” Cassandra whispered, just as the black-clad witches reached her and they started arguing.

Katrina’s mom pushed through the two and they hurried after her, stopping her again just out of arm’s reach of us. I didn’t blame Katrina’s mom for the look of anger on her face, or for wanting to confront me — I just hoped I’d survive it.

One of the SS-witches held her palm up, almost against Sororix Cartright’s chest.

“You may not harm them before the Council session.”

Believe me, I took notice of the qualifier.

“Sororix Cartright,” I said, hoping to at least ease her anger some. “I’m so sorry about Katrina. She was a kind person — she was nice to me even on my first day here, and I miss her. I truly wish I’d been there to help her.”

The witch’s face softened a bit, turning more toward sorrow than anger. “She was kind.” Her face hardened again. “Yet you allowed the creature that murdered her to escape.”

I nodded. “For a year and a day — to save myself and Cassandra.”

I took a breath — we weren’t keeping Cassandra’s pregnancy secret, Hannah and Brittany knew, but we weren’t advertising it yet. That announcement was apparently going to lead to a huge party on campus and we had enough on our plate right now.

I took a risk — it could easily make Katrina’s mother even more angry with us, but I didn’t get that feeling from her. Agreeing with me that Katrina had been kind made me believe this was one of the few witch-mothers I’d met who might actually care about her daughter — and, maybe, be sympathetic to what Cassandra and I had been facing.

I took Cassandra’s hand and looked Sororix Cartright in the eye.

“And our child.”

Katrina’s mother’s eyes widened, then her nostrils flared and her jaw clenched.

“A year and a day. And then?”

“Then she’s on her own.”

“I want the creature’s name, and everything you know about it.”

I nodded. “On the day she’s on her own.”

My oath to the vampire had included helping her if she was attacked by a witch and I didn’t want to come into that sort of conflict with Katrina’s mother.

Cassandra pulled me away and whispered in my ear. “Swear it, in return for her support on the Council.”

I looked back at Katrina’s mother and couldn’t — it was probably the smart thing to do, it would gain us a vote before we even knew what was coming, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t use Katrina like that and I couldn’t do that to the so obviously grieving witch in front of me. But I could promise her what she wanted, expecting nothing in return.

“On the day the vampire is no longer owed my protection,” I said, “I will give you all the information I have on her. Perhaps she’ll get lucky and you’ll even reach her before I do.”

“The very day? Swear it — the very day.”

I nodded. “On the very day the vampire who killed Katrina is no longer owed my protection, I will tell you all I know about her. I swear it by my Power, by my Grove, and by the Goddess who guides me.”

Sororix Cartright’s eyes widened. “An oikeiotēs of guidance?” She glanced at Cassandra’s midsection, then frowned.

“The mundane I’m told ordered it done?” she asked finally.

I wondered what oikeiotēs was and I was pretty sure she’d been briefed on everything we’d told the Council investigators who’d questioned us, but I could understand her wanting to hear it directly.

I nodded at Sam. “She blew his head off.”

Katrina’s mother nodded. “She was kind,” she said, then turned and walked away.

The two SS-witches actually sighed, as though relieved they weren’t going to have to restrain a Council member from killing someone.

“What’s oikeiotēs?” I asked Rachel, but it was Sam who responded.

“Oikeiotēs is the Intimacy,” she said. “The personal bond — it’s what we use at the end of our oath to describe our personal connection to the Goddess.” She grinned at Rachel. “Or one of Her particularly enthusiastic Aspects.”

That made sense, I just hadn’t known what it was called. I wondered a little at Sam’s — “by the Goddess I adore” — because she wasn’t exactly the most reverent witch I’d met. On the other hand, she loved me and gave me even more shit because of it, so maybe the Goddess understood her snark was really affection.

“Uh, oh,” Rachel whispered.

She was looking at the cafeteria doors and I looked that way to see Rachel’s grandmother approaching us. A chill went down my spine — she might have effectively told us to steal Rachel, but she probably hadn’t meant right before a Council meeting we were summoned to.

“At least Mom’s not here,” Rachel muttered.

My newest witch didn’t talk about her mother often — not at all, really. We knew she was close to her grandmother, but knew next to nothing about her mom. I didn’t have time to ask about that, as Archimagira Winthrop strode toward us.

“I see,” Archimagira Winthrop said, staring at Rachel. “Well, this should make things more interesting.”

I didn’t know if she just assumed I’d bound Rachel or if she could somehow tell.

“Not a word about it,” Rachel’s grandmother said as I started to apologize, at least for the timing. “It’s best I not know for certain just yet.” Her eyes ran over us as she nodded to me, then Sam, then her gaze paused on Cassandra. “I’ve heard a great deal about you from my granddaughter. Perhaps we should have a more private conversation later — since we’re both here.”

“She’s apologized, Grandmother,” Rachel said.

“Sometimes that’s not nearly enough.”

Cassandra blanched and without thinking, I stepped between her and Rachel’s grandmother, causing the Archimagira to raise an eyebrow.

I swallowed hard and licked my lips — I had no delusions that I could face the head of the witches’ Council in any sort of way. I also knew that, whatever Cassandra had done, it was a coven matter now.

“Cassandra’s part of my coven, Archimagira,” I said. “She’s apologized and we’re working it out within the coven. If that’s not good enough for you, any conversation is with me.”

“Noah —”

I reached back and took Cassandra’s hand, cutting her off.

“You think you can face me, boy?” she asked, all trace of the kindly grandmother gone. This was a witch, old and powerful — the sort that would curse your castle and twelve of the surrounding villages.

A sort of soft pressure surrounded me, pressing from all sides as Rachel’s grandmother seemed to swell in my vision.

The pressure increased and my vision narrowed until all I could see was the Archimagira’s placid face.

Shit, I thought, what the fuck is she doing?

Then I remembered Sam and Cassandra on the stairs, facing off with each other and filling the stairwell with … presence. What had she called it? An aura shove or something? I sure felt like I was being shoved — from all directions. Shoved and compressed.

You put everything you know about yourself into a package, I remembered Sam saying, and you shove it in the other witch’s face. Push, that was it, aura-push.

Did I think I could beat Rachel’s grandmother at it? No. But the last few days Cassandra had been saying over and over again how the Council respected strength. I couldn’t just back down.

So, what did I know about myself? I didn’t even know who my parents were.

I am a trinitara warlock of the Blackwood line. I have three of the most amazing witches in the world. My witches love me and I love them — even Cassandra has come to care for me. I could see that, and my heart swelled at how different a person she’d become in just the short time she could be herself and not ruled by her resonants. These witches are mine to guard and protect — against anyone.

I pushed that toward Archimagira Winthrop in the same way I’d expand my shields away from my body and … she didn’t seem to notice.

The moment went on and suddenly the pressure on me disappeared just moments before I knew I was going to fall to my knees, defeated.

Rachel’s grandmother took a step back, her stern face creasing with a smile.

“I do like this one,” she said to Rachel with a grin. “Spunky.”

After the confrontation on the stairs, Sam and Rachel had told me the first one to blink in an aura push was the loser, but I had no delusions that was the case here. Rachel’s grandmother had simply taken my measure in some way.

She glanced at the stage, ignoring the looks we were getting from the crowd — when Sam and Cassandra had faced off in the stairwell, everyone around them had felt it, so the whole cafeteria, including the witches’ Council members, had just seen me square off with the Archimagira and not be reduced to a smoking spot of grease on the floor. Maybe that would get us something.

“Time to begin this farce,” Archimagira Winthrop muttered, then leaned close to kiss her granddaughter on the cheek before heading toward the stage.

My shoulders slumped and I let my breath out in a huge whompf as I collapsed into a chair.

“That’s our warlock just stood up to the Big Boss,” Sam said, grinning.

“For me,” Cassandra whispered as though she didn’t believe it.

I leaned around Sam, Rachel was on my other side, and kissed Cassandra on the cheek.

“You’re one of us,” I whispered. “We have enough problems without worrying about the past, so get over it.”

I sat back and Rachel leaned forward to give Cassandra a serious nod, leaving the other witch with a deeply furrowed brow.

We didn’t have time for more as Rachel’s grandmother took the center seat and immediately tapped her finger on the table several times. A sharp rapping sound filled the room and everyone quieted.

“I call this Council to order,” Archimagira Winthrop said, loudly and clearly, all traces of the friendly grandmother gone, but not quite the icy castle-curser. “Secretaria please call the roll.”

“Yes, Archimagira,” the woman to Archimagira Winthrop’s left said. “Magira Blake?”

“Adsum,” Cassandra’s mom answered.

I leaned close to Rachel.

“What are they saying?”

“It’s Latin — adsum is ‘I am here’, like saying present. The rest is Council titles.”

“Sshh!” Cassandra hushed us and I shut up, figuring since I’d already pissed off two council members in Sam’s and Cassandra’s mothers, probably irritated Sororix Hearst, since I hadn’t ravaged Priscilla or set up any stud appointments, and squared off against the Archimagira, I probably shouldn’t press my luck.

“Magira Carrington-Blair?”

“Adsum.”

That went on, each of the women answering, until the one calling the roll turned to Archimagira Winthrop.

“I represent Vanderbiltaine, Archimagira, we have a full Council.”

Archimagira Winthrop nodded and tapped her finger again.

“Having heard the roll, I find a quorum, secundatur?”

“Secundo,” someone said.

“Placetne?” Archimagira Winthrop asked.

“Placet,” a chorus of voices answered.

Rachel stretched up close to my ear and whispered, “She asked for a second that there’s a quorum and it was, then ‘do you approve’ and they answered.”

“Thanks.”

“Quis dissentit?”

There was silence.

“‘Who disagrees,’” Rachel whispered.

I blame my Lust resonant for this, but I could feel the lacy texture of Rachel’s bra on my arm through both our shirts and that, along with her warm breath on my neck and ear, made me shift uncomfortably. Inappropriate? Yes. Avoidable the day after binding her to me? Not a chance.

“Given this is a special session,” Archimagira Winthrop said, “I believe we can forgo old business until our regular meeting — secundatur?”

“Secundo,” someone said again.

“Placetne?”

“Placet.”

“Quis dissentit?”

Again no one objected.

“Very well, shall we —”

“Punctum ordinis, Archimagira?” Cassandra’s mom asked.

“Here we go,” Cassandra muttered.

“That’s, um, ‘point of order’, sort of,” Rachel whispered, and I swear she was pressing her boob into my arm even harder now. “Cassandra’s mother wants to say something before things start.”

Great, I thought to myself. I’m sure that’ll be fun.

“Yes, Magira Blake?”

“While the matter we’ve gathered to discuss is dire, indeed, I would like to propose adding another matter, equally urgent, to the agenda.”

“You may speak.”

“Thank you, Archimagira, while the reported actions of the Patriarchy are concerning and a danger, I would move this council first address another equal, if not greater, danger — that of the feral warlock, Noah Ashe, and his disturbing, now clear, pattern of preying on the daughters of our most respected Families in their most vulnerable times.”

“Secundo,” Sam’s mother said immediately.

“Shit,” I breathed.

“I see,” Archimagira Winthrop said. “Placetne?”

“Placet.” A chorus of voices.

“Quis dissentit?”

“Dissentio.”

It was just two voices — Priscilla’s mother and Katrina’s.

Rachel’s grandmother cast no vote, I assumed she, like Prima Rosethorn at our disciplinary hearing, stayed out of the vote unless there was a tie.

“Well, shit,” Cassandra breathed. “She must be really sure of her support to bring it up right away.”

“Very well, Magira Blake, present your proposal.”

“Thank you, again, Archimagira.” Cassandra’s mom took a deep breath. “We all heard of the Willowmere administration’s ‘hearing’ on the matter of this feral warlock marking my daughter, and I grant that long ago in this institution’s history warlocks attended this academy and covens were formed. This is entirely true, however the school’s hearing omitted one important fact.”

She pointed at me.

“Not a single one of those long-ago warlocks was a feral.”

There was silence for a moment, then she went on.

“Feral warlocks are born of those we’ve cast out, removed from the Families for being intolerable, for crimes most grievous, even to the independent Families, and now comes their offspring!” She swept her arm out to point at me again. “Comes to Willowmere, to where we trust our daughters to be safe, to take those daughters, one-by-one, through deceit, trickery, and, I fear, even violence.”

“What the hell?” Cassandra whispered.

“Samantha Prescott had just been through a traumatic, near-death experience only weeks before the feral, Noah Ashe, convinced her to be marked. I submit that her ordeal left her ill-equipped to resist the sort of pressure a feral — one she was forced to sleep in the same room with, no less — could place over her. Her ability to consent to the marking must be suspect, if not outright denied.”

Motherfucker, I thought, these witches are going to talk about consent?

“I’ll show that witch some trauma,” Sam muttered, then patted Cassandra’s arm. “Sorry, I know she’s your —”

“Get in line,” Cassandra snarled, glaring at her mother.

“As for his most recent abuse,” Magira Blake went on, “my own daughter, Cassandra, had just been kidnapped and threatened by a vampire in-league with those whom the feral claims were the Patriarchy, but can we be certain of that? Can we truly trust a feral’s word? Is it not possible, perhaps even plausible, that they might not have been Patriarchy at all, but were instead confederates of the feral, acting out his plan to kidnap my daughter and convince her that her only hope for survival was to submit to his vile, degenerate advances?”

“Did you give her my degeneracy?” Sam whispered, glaring at me.

“Minutes?” Cassandra asked. “Five minutes without your freaky shit?”

“Punctum notitiae, Archimagira?” That was Priscilla’s mother.

“Magira Hearst?” Rachel’s grandmother acknowledged.

“With respect to my dear colleague’s … theory, it’s my understanding that several items corroborating the Patriarchy’s involvement were collected from the site and are currently being studied.”

Cassandra’s mother nodded. “Some items were recovered, but were they made by the Patriarchy?” She shrugged. “Perhaps, or perhaps not. A talented artificer amongst us could likely duplicate the effects described.”

“She’s talking about Melaina,” Sam whispered.

“That’s nuts,” I whispered back. “She thinks Mel and I plotted to get Cassandra?”

Cassandra’s mother glared at Priscilla’s. “This warlock — this feral — is purportedly of the Blackwood line and The Blackwood is well-known for her skill in artifice and enchantment.”

“They do. They think Mel made all that silver shit,” I whispered.

Cassandra shook her head, not taking her eyes from her mother. “No. She doesn’t believe that at all.”

“I see,” Priscilla’s mother said, thoughtfully, then glanced around the room. “I see The Blackwood herself is present — perhaps we should ask her?”

For a moment, Cassandra’s mom looked uncomfortable, then she squared her shoulders. “If necessary, we shall do just that. However, I believe we can deal with the issue of the feral regardless.”

“Very well, Magira Blake,” Archimagira Winthrop said, “what is your proposal?”

“Archimagira, fellow Magirae, Magira Prescott and I have a joint motion that the feral warlock, Noah Ashe, be civilized and his coven placed under the Blakes and Prescotts as recompense for his actions in taking our daughters.”

“Civilized?” I asked Cassandra. “Why doesn’t that sound good?”

“It’s another word for marked — when it’s a, um, feral.”

“Wonderful,” I muttered. I looked around. “Can we get out of here? I don’t think we should hang around for this.”

I saw that the main doors were closed now and several witches in the black skirts and jackets of the adjutrices were standing there.

“Yeah,” Sam muttered. “We’re not getting through them.”

“Well, I’m not getting marked.”

Cassandra sighed. “If they do this, they’ll stick us in isolation somewhere, then build up a high priestess candidate until there’s no way you could overpower her. They’ll have all the time they need to do it.”

“One can’t take a coven into two Families,” Archimagira Winthrop was saying. “Am I to assume you’ve worked out some compromise, or will we be spending time in council trying to figure it out?”

Cassandra’s mom nodded.

“We have, Archimagira, our motion proposes that the Blakes and Prescotts will each provide six candidates, as there are eleven unfilled sedes in this so-called coven. We will then present each candidate, in random order for each Family, to mark the feral, after which the coven will be filled from the remaining candidates. One, of course, will not be marked, but our Families have agreed to these terms and present this proposal to the Council.”

“What’s a —”

“Sedes sororum,” Rachel whispered. “Seats of sisters — the positions in a coven.” She grinned. “Only ten sedes, though — they don’t know about me yet.”

Sam’s mom nodded to show her agreement, and a chill ran through me, because some other council members were nodding, as well. I looked around the cafeteria again, wondering if there was some other way we could run. I tried to catch Mel’s eye to beg her to bring out The Blackwood, but she was watching the stage intently.

“The completed coven would become a cadet-branch of the Blakes and Prescotts,” Magira Blake said.

“You propose the formation of a new Family?” Archimagira Winthrop asked.

“We do.”

“The formation of a new Family is a serious undertaking. We do so rarely and with great deliberation. All the more so in honor of those we’ve lost in ages past.”

Rachel hissed, opening the Principium and rifling through pages. “A new Family,” she muttered.

“What?”

“A new Family — they want to form a new Family, but… Wait … wait…” she muttered, flipping pages. “Here!”

“What?” Sam asked.

She’d slipped into the row behind us and was hanging over Rachel’s shoulder while Cassandra had moved to squat in front of me and was looking at the Principium’s pages upside down.

“You’re really related to Melaina, Magistra Blackwood, right?” Rachel asked.

“Yeah, distantly? But she thinks pretty directly.” I shrugged.

“Will she swear to that, do you think? Like, peel-your-skin-off-if-you’re-lying swear?”

“Who do you make deals with?” Cassandra asked.

“Will she?”

“I don’t see why not,” I said. I was pretty sure she would.

“Okay, okay…” Rachel frowned and started tapping her foot. “Give me some paper and a pen!”

“What’s —”

“Ssh, let me think.”

Cassandra handed her a notepad and pencil — Rachel took it and started scribbling, muttering all the while.

“Who can I give it to? Who might? Can’t be Grandmother, that’s no good.” She ran her eyes over the seated Council. “Hearst or Cartright? They were both opposed to even talking about this.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Why was Katrina’s mom opposed, though?”

Cassandra chuckled. “The Cartrights and Blakes hate each other. If the Blakes had control of you, they’d never let you tell Katrina’s mom a fucking thing about the vampire, oath or not.”

Cassandra glanced at the stage, then at Rachel. “Magira Hearst. Katrina’s mom is too upset to think straight right now. My mom hates the Hearsts and it’s mutual.”

“Does anyone not hate your Family?” Sam asked.

“Yours — what does that tell you?”

Rachel nodded. “Noah, you met Priscilla’s mom, does she like you?”

“Um, she keeps wanting me to screw her daughter?”

Rachel waved her hands. “Everybody wants you to do that! Focus! Would she rather we stay our own coven or wind up with the Blakes and Prescotts?”

“I think she’d like any option that left me open to joining her Family.”

“This won’t.” Rachel looked up to the stage. “She’s frowning. She doesn’t like what Magira Blake’s saying … maybe that’ll be enough.” She ripped the page she’d written out of the notebook and held it out. “Cassandra! Take this to that adjutrix by the stage there and ask her to give it to Magira Hearst.” She hurriedly scribbled a second note. “And this one — I’ll take it to Melaina.”

Rachel started to stand, but Cassandra stopped her.

“If Melaina’s going to have to swear to something, we shouldn’t be seen talking to her right before,” Cassandra said.

Rachel thought about it for a minute, then crumpled up the second note. “I hope she won’t be angry with me.”

Cassandra stepped away from us.

“What’s adjutrix, anyway?” I asked.

Rachel sighed.

“Do you want me to tell you it’s Latin for helper or would you like me to explain how I’m going to save your ass?”

I grinned.

“You’re so cute when you’re worked up.”

Rachel flushed and glared at me … which just made her cuter. Her little button nose was all scrunched up and she was still tapping her foot at a rapid rate. I wondered if it would be possible to wind her up to the point she was actually stamping her feet — without exploding. Never mind.

“Okay,” I said as she bared her teeth. “Show me?”

Chapter 14

“Section four, subsection sixteen — they renumbered all this in the fifties, but this is an older edition,” Rachel said, whispering so as not to be called out by the Council where Cassandra’s and Sam’s moms were still talking about their proposal. “This was added to the Principium in 1422. It took decades after the Death for witches to find each other and form full covens again. In the process, lots of lines were lost — lines is what they used to call the Families. The lines of descent stretching back into really ancient times.”

“Because the Dark Ages aren’t really ancient?”

“It was the Middle Ages — Late, even — and, again, that’s what you want to ask?”

“Nope, go on,” I told her, gesturing at the book.

“So, it’s the Late Middle Ages, witches are just now really back in touch with each other, and the full understanding of what we’d lost became clear. Everything was so confused — people’d moved around so much to avoid the Death, and lines of communication were gone. So a coven added this:

“‘And cometh afore a council of witches, to a coven, yea, even to a single witch, the word of a Lost One, thou shalt end all afore thee and give heed. Charged upon thee, upon thy coven, upon thy Grove, and pled unto the Goddess Herself, this geas is laid: to seek, aid, nourish, heal, and to bring back unto the Goddess the least of the Lost Ones, even unto thine own end. To this we offer up our own.’”

Rachel looked at me expectantly.

I looked at Sam, expecting her to tell me I didn’t know anything, but she looked as bewildered as I was.

“Goddess,” Rachel muttered, “do you ever pay attention in class? Never mind. Look, this use of the word ‘geas’ here? That’s deliberate, it’s telling us they cast a ritual — a ritual to bind the … everybody. ‘And cometh afore a council of witches, to a coven, yea, even to a single witch’ — they’re placing the geas on every witch, every coven, every council. It’s huge, it’s a … an ancestral equivalent of a coven compulsion. If any witch disobeys, then the geas’ punishment would activate — and it’s a bad one.”

“That was so long ago — how could it last that long?” Sam asked.

“It might not, but it could — they went beyond a plea to the Goddess and powered it themselves. This here — ‘even unto thine own end. To this we offer up our own’ — you’re ordered to do this, even if it means your death. And to ensure this, we give our own lives.”

Rachel scrubbed at her eyes.

“They sacrificed themselves. They made a plea to the Goddess to power their geas and then they sacrificed their own lives to power it more. With as few of them as there were after the Death, this was so important to them that they did that. The Goddess wouldn’t like a sacrifice like that, but if they did it anyway, it would be really powerful — it would be every bit of mana that coven might produce in their entire lives all at once, maybe more.”

“Wow,” I said, “but I still don’t see —”

“You’re a Lost One,” Sam said, nodding. “That’s it, right? He’s a Lost One?”

Rachel nodded.

“How do you figure that?” I asked.

“Figure what?” Cassandra asked, squatting in front of me again so she could see Rachel.

“Did an adjutrix give the note to Magira Hearst?” Rachel asked.

“Yeah, she’s doing it right now — so, figure what?”

“Noah’s a Lost One and our mothers are about to shit themselves.”

Cassandra frowned, then cocked her head to the side. “Huh, yeah, I guess if Melaina won’t … he could be, but there hasn’t been a lost line rediscovered in … ages.”

“Since 1642,” Rachel said.

Cassandra nodded. “Goddess … this is … so cool.”

“I know, right?” Sam said grinning.

“Magira Hearst is reading our note,” Rachel said, craning her neck to see Priscilla’s mother.

I hadn’t noticed, but Cassandra’s mom had finished talking and now Sam’s mother was saying something, but I didn’t bother trying to listen, because I wanted Rachel to finish explaining.

“If you’re of The Blackwood’s line, then you can’t be from the independent Families. We know who all of them are and there are no other Blackwoods left today. They were all lost in the Death. We even know who the outcasts are, because they were, well, outcast. You have to be from somewhere we don’t know about — the true ferals, sorry, the ones who completely lost their connection to the Goddess — and the return of the Blackwood line.”

“Wouldn’t that make Mel the Lost One, though?” I asked. “If I’m descended from her, then she’s … found already? Right?”

Rachel took a deep breath, eyes still on the stage.

“No — I think that’s why no one’s realized it before,” Rachel whispered. “Melaina … she’s always been here. You showing up — even I only looked at you as being something special for her, but this isn’t about an individual, it’s about the line. That’s what was lost — they knew a lot of people died and there’s nothing they could do about that, but the line is what’s important, because those track back to the line’s founders. And The Blackwood can’t continue her line, because she can’t have children.”

“What?”

“That’s —” Rachel frowned. “Look, everybody thinks that after the Death, when Melaina couldn’t find any of her children —”

“Wait, what?” I said, shocked. “You’re saying she was around in the 1200s or whatever?”

I knew Mel was old, but she’d never said she was that old. Eight hundred years?

“The Death was in the 1300s, but, yeah, she’s been around since the 1200s, too. No one knows how long before that and she’s never said — there are some rumors, but they can’t be true. Anyway, they say she was so heartbroken at her loss that she couldn’t bear to go through it again, so she wouldn’t have any more children — then after Salem…”

She took a deep breath and bit her lip. Sam laid a hand on her shoulder and Cassandra grasped her hands.

“I’m not supposed to say, but … well, you’re of her line and —” She looked at Cassandra and Sam. “— we’re a coven of that line, so that means…” She chewed on her lip. “Yeah, I think the Family geas doesn’t apply to us now. It’s not warning me, anyway.” She took a deep breath. “Melaina found a Winthrop coven and asked for a ritual. The Ritual, the one that created the Veil. She asked the Goddess to make the mundanes forget us. To make them think we weren’t real, so that they’d stop hunting us, and she offered … her ability to have children.”

“I never heard that,” Sam said, shaking her head. “I always knew she wouldn’t have children again, but I never heard anything like that’s what she traded for the Veil.”

Cassandra nodded. “You were right, Magira Hearst is probably the best one to bring it up, anyway. She’s not really part of any faction. She just votes how she wants.”

I looked back at the stage again and Magira Hearst caught my eye. She’d finished reading Rachel’s note and my stomach churned wondering what she’d do. If she said nothing, what would I do? Jump up and proclaim it? That would probably piss off enough of the Council to vote against me regardless of the geas. If they’d be willing for politics, they’d certainly do it if they were offended. Maybe send a note to Katrina’s mom and ask a favor right after my oath? That would be fucked up.

Magira Hearst raised her fingers to her lips and began tapping them, looking up as though pondering a decision, then she scribbled something on a slip of paper and handed that back to the adjutrix, who left the stage.

“She’s going to want something to support us,” Rachel whispered as the woman approached us and handed the paper to me.

I glanced at Magira Hearst as I held the paper and she met my eyes again with eyebrows raised.

“What does it say? What does she want?” Sam asked.

I opened the paper and read.

Priscilla joins your coven within a year and a day.

I took a deep breath and held it out for the girls to read.

“What do you think?” Sam asked.

“Priscilla’s nice,” Cassandra said.

I nodded and saw Sam and Rachel nodding, too.

“It’s a good deal,” Cassandra said. “She’s not asking for us to join her Family, she’s not demanding Priscilla be high priestess. I think she knows where this is going and wants an alliance.”

“An alliance? What do you mean, ‘where this is going’?” I asked.

Rachel sighed. “The next step after being recognized as a Lost One will be to petition for recognition of the recovered line as a new Family — to reinstate the line. That’s the whole point — and forming a new Family is already before the Council.”

Cassandra grinned at Sam. “Our mothers opened the fucking door and we’re going to slam it on their tits.”

“Seriously?” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. “Wouldn’t that mean we’d have to listen to the Council and stuff? I thought we were going to be independent.”

“Yes, but being recognized by the Council wasn’t an option before,” Cassandra said. “Most independents are pretty weak. They mostly keep their heads down and try not to be noticed — which, you have to admit, would be really fucking hard for us. Being recognized gives us a lot of protection. Another Family can’t just fuck with us.”

Sam tilted her head.

“Well, they can still fuck with us, but it’s a lot more complicated and dangerous for them. They definitely can’t just take you off the street and lock you in the basement until one of their witches marks you. That would be like a declaration of war between Families and the other Families would start taking sides. A lot would join our side, even if only to make it clear a stronger Family can’t start doing the same thing to them.”

I frowned. “So none of them would care if we were attacked now, because we’re not a part of their group — but if we’re part of the group, that changes things?”

“Yeah, and I agree it’s the best option,” Rachel said. “Being recognized is best. We’re still not really safe until we have a full coven, but we’re safer than being independent.”

Sam nodded. “And once we do have a full coven, being recognized means they can’t just kill one of us to get another shot at Noah. Not without starting that same war if someone finds out.”

“Okay, leave that for a minute,” I said. “Do we agree to what Priscilla’s mom is asking? Should we ask Priscilla to join?”

I liked Priscilla, but the whole discussion left me a little queasy, because I didn’t really know her.

“Yes,” Cassandra said.

Sam nodded.

“Yes — just remember,” Rachel said, “the year and a day phrasing makes it binding. There’s some ancient stuff around that and it’ll bite hard if you break the agreement, even without a full oath.”

I nodded. “Give me that pencil.”

Rachel handed me the pencil and I wrote another note before having Cassandra pass it back to an adjutrix.

So long as she truly wants to, I agree.

Cassandra snorted. “Like she wouldn’t in a heartbeat. She’s had a crush on you since her mom made her show you her boobs.”

“That never happened.”

“Yeah, right.”

I took a deep breath and looked up to meet Magira Hearst’s waiting gaze.

Magira Hearst read the note and her eyes brightened. She made a kissing face at me.

“Punctum ordinis, Archimagira?”

The room went silent and Sam’s mom, who’d been speaking, was staring at Magira Hearst with a look of pure hatred. Based on the saccharin smile Magira Hearst was returning, I wondered if I’d really needed to make a deal with her or if she’d have interrupted just to piss off the two other witches.

“Ah, yes, Magira Hearst?” Archimagira Winthrop asked.

“Thank you, Archimagira, I believe I am compelled to call upon the Council in the name of the Goddess.”

The sound of the gasps in the room was almost a roar.

“What’s that?” I whispered to Rachel.

“She’s claiming to speak for the Goddess Herself, to be delivering Her will. It’s, like, the most sacred, scary thing. If the Council decides she’s not … I don’t know what they’d do. It’s putting her whole reputation on the line for us.”

“That is a bold statement, Magira Hearst, bold indeed.” Archimagira Winthrop inclined her head. “Please give us the Goddess’ words.”

“Thank you, Archimagira. Before continuing, this council should listen to the words of the warlock, Noah Ashe.”

There was a second of silence.

“That’s it?” Cassandra’s mom asked.

Magira Hearst nodded.

“Yeah, that’s it?” I whispered to Rachel. I’d expected a little more.

Rachel was grinning, but Cassandra’s grin was wider.

“Oh, she’s smart,” Cassandra said. “By just saying they should listen to us, she’s taken out any Council politics at all. And by just saying the Goddess wants them to listen, she’s sort of added the Goddess’ blessing to what we say without actually claiming it herself, so she’s not putting that much of her reputation on the line to start, or pissing off anyone on the Council. Well, except for Sam’s and Cassandra’s moms, and they’re already pissed.”

“I feel it in my womb that the Goddess compels this Council to listen to the words of the warlock, Noah Ashe,” Magira Hearst repeated.

“Well, we can’t,” Sam’s mom said. “He’s a feral. He’s not of the Families and cannot petition this Council!”

“Speaking is not petitioning, Judith.”

“But it is! His point in speaking is clearly to sway this Council on the matter of civilizing him! This is no less a petition than a motion from a member.”

“A silly rule, and meaningless, the boy simply appoints a patrona from some Family to speak for him — you do insist on making everything so difficult.” Magira Hearst looked over at me. “Who will you name as your patrona?”

I looked at Rachel.

“Patrona,” she whispered, “it’s protector or advocate, someone to address the —”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s you. Go!”

Rachel grinned and hopped to her feet, grasping the Principium in her arms.

“I will!”

Rachel’s grandmother chuckled.

“Identify yourself for the Council, if you please.”

“Rach —” Rachel stopped and took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “Patrona Rachel Ashe, Archimagira, Magirae, to speak on behalf of the warlock, Noah Ashe.”

“Very well,” Archimagira Winthrop said with a pause — then she seemed to shrug and continued. “The Goddess has compelled us to hear the words of the warlock, Noah Ashe. Please give them to us.”

“Wait!” Cassandra’s mother yelled. “That’s — isn’t that your granddaughter, Archimagira?”

“She is.”

“But … she just said ‘Patrona Ashe!’ Has the feral taken her too? A third daughter of these Families in … it’s been less than two weeks since the last! Who’s to say who’s next?”

Priscilla’s mom gave me a toodles-wave and another kissy-face.

Sam’s mom was also on her feet. “This is outrageous! Archimagira, how can you allow this?”

“Enough,” Rachel’s grandmother said, quietly, but she tapped a finger on the table and a deafening crack echoed through the cafeteria. “Magirae, it is no one’s place to speak about a Winthrop Family matter than my own. Rachel? Is it true that you have been bound to this warlock?”

“Yes, Archimagira Winthrop, last night.”

There was a chorus of gasps from the watching witches.

“Were you forced or coerced in any way to bond with the warlock, Noah Ashe?”

Rachel shook her head. “No, Archimagira. It was of my own will and choice.”

“Are you happy with your choice?”

Rachel’s smile threatened to split her head in two and I wanted to wrap her in my arms.

“More than when the Banshees win the cup, Grandmother.”

I shared a look with Sam — that was some top-tier happy for Rachel.

“Archimagira, I protest!” Sam’s mother yelled. “If you’re going to question the girl, it should be done under a truth spell and —”

“Are you seriously questioning how I choose to deal with a member of my Family, Judith? And in a Council session?” Archimagira Winthrop asked quietly. “If a Winthrop has chosen to disobey the plans our Family has made for her, that is a matter for the Winthrops. As head of the Winthrops, I will believe or disbelieve my granddaughter as I choose, and I will deal with this transgression — a private, Family matter — privately, not before this Council. You and Magira Blake may wish to air your bloomers before all and sundry, but you will keep your noses out of the Winthrop laundry basket, am I clear?”

It seemed like no one dared say a word.

“Thank you all for recognizing a private Family matter,” the Archimagira said. “Furthermore, Magirae Blake and Prescott, be on notice that a single further baseless accusation against a Winthrop, current or former, will result in my Family seeking a Council Censure against your Families for slander.”

“What?”

“How?”

Archimagira Winthrop tapped her finger again a deafening crack echoed through the room.

“Will the Memorator please remind us of Magira Blake’s statement with regard to this warlock’s patrona identifying herself?”

One of the witches I didn’t know closed her eyes and a moment later Cassandra’s mother’s voice boomed out from all corners of the room.

“But … she just said ‘Patrona Ashe!’ Has the feral taken her too? A third daughter of these Families in … it’s been less than two weeks since the last! Who’s to say who’s next?”

“Apologies for the volume,” the witch said. She gestured at the surrounding cafeteria. “The acoustics.”

“Magirae,” the Archimagira said, flatly. “You have publicly stated that your daughters were so weak-willed and easily manipulated as to have been duped by a warlock who didn’t even know witches existed a year ago. Your statement, Magira Blake, and joined in your outburst by Magira Prescott, clearly implies you think the same of my granddaughter. The Winthrops will not tolerate such an accusation. Deliberately disobedient, she may be; lacking the strength of will to mark this warlock, I will allow; but I will tolerate no suggestion that a Winthrop witch did other than she or her Family chose.”

“I don’t know if I should be offended or impressed,” Cassandra whispered.

“Rachel?” Sam asked. “Do you think your grandma would adopt me?”

“Can we show Grandma the bite mark?” Rachel whispered.

“Ssh,” I whispered, because Rachel’s grandmother wasn’t done.

“However, since the two of you have chosen to believe this of your daughters, and make those beliefs public, along with making your daughters the subject of this Council, I believe I would like the same questions answered by the other two before we continue.” She held up a hand as Cassandra’s mother started to object. “You may request a truth spell or oath of some sort and repeat the questioning later if you wish, but I would like to hear from these other two witches now.”

Her iron gaze turned to us and I heard Samantha gulp.

“Samantha Ashe, were you subject to any undue influence — force, fraud, or coercion — in your decision to bond with this warlock? Do you have any regrets?”

Sam stood up, squeezing my hand. “If anything, I coerced Noah, Archimagira — and my only regret is that he wasn’t there to mark me the day I came into my power. I swear this by my Power, by my Grove, and by the Goddess I adore.”

“Thank you. Cassandra Ashe, were you subject to any undue influence — force, fraud, or coercion — in your decision? Do you have any regrets?”

Cassandra stood and looked at me for a moment. I couldn’t say I wasn’t a little worried. It hadn’t been by choice, after all, and the last couple weeks had been pretty hard.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “Say what you need to — I won’t be mad.”

Cassandra snorted and shook her head, then turned back to the Council.

“Archimagira, Magirae, it is true that my decision was colored. I thought I had no choice. I either accepted this warlock or faced certain death.”

“See?” Magira Blake yelled.

I closed my eyes and tried to push acceptance and reassurance toward Cassandra through our bond — it was nothing but the truth, after all — then she reached down and took my hand.

“Shut up, Mother,” Cassandra said. “Noah’s shown me more compassion in the last two weeks than you have my entire life.” She reached over and gathered up Sam’s hand with mine and put her other on Rachel’s shoulder. “My sisters have shown me far more forgiveness than I deserve after following your ‘advice.’” She looked at Archimagira Winthrop. “Had I the choice now, standing free and unbound before you?” She snorted again. “I would drag Noah to the nearest Grove and demand he make me his. I swear it by my Power, by my Grove, and by the Goddess who has blessed me with a kinder path.”

Holy shit.

Cassandra sat back down and looked at me. “Shut up. And rub your eyes — my warlock doesn’t tear up in front of these witches.”

“These words mean nothing,” Magira Blake said. “Without a compulsion to be truthful —”

“There is a matter before this Council!” Rachel said, forcefully enough to cut her off. Even her grandmother raised an eyebrow at how strongly she interrupted the older witch. “With respect, Magirae, this Council has been called upon in the name of the Goddess. Perhaps it might be best to hear what She wishes said before a return to bick — to speaking of other matters.”

I had to stifle a laugh, because I had no doubt Rachel had just, very deliberately, told these witches to stop bickering and listen up.

“I agree,” the Archimagira said. “Please continue, Patrona Ashe.”

Rachel took a deep breath.

“Archimagira, Magirae, I also call upon the Council in the name of the Goddess.”

There was another explosion of gasps and muttering, but Rachel powered on, her voice filling the room as she read from the Principium:

“‘And cometh afore a council of witches, to a coven, yea, even to a single witch, the word of a Lost One, thou shalt end all afore thee and give heed. Charged upon thee, upon thy coven, upon thy Grove, and pled unto the Goddess Herself, this geas is laid: to seek, aid, nourish, heal, and to bring back unto the Goddess the least of the Lost Ones, even unto thine own end. To this we offer up our own.’”

Rachel pointed at me.

“Noah Ashe is a Lost One,” she said. “He is descended from Melaina Seraphina Blackwood. She has taken him as her own, she has claimed this, and I believe she will here today confirm this.”

“I will!” Mel called from where the faculty was sitting.

I stretched to get a look at her and she was grinning back at me, wiggling happily in her seat.

“Then how can he be a Lost One?” Cassandra’s mother demanded. “Lost One implies being a recovered Line. She’s right there.”

“She is,” Rachel agreed. “It’s said that she has had no children since the Death due to her grief, but the truth … I’m so sorry, Melaina.”

“It’s alright, dear, it’s not a surprise to me.”

Rachel took a deep breath.

“The truth is, it is not a matter of choice — Melaina Seraphina Blackwood can no longer bear children. The Blackwood line was lost — it is no longer.”

The room went so silent I could almost hear the clicking in their heads as every witch in the room made the connections.

“Shit!”

*

It must have been Cassandra’s mother who yelled “shit”, because Sam’s mom was on her feet shouting.

“No! This is absurd!”

I’m pretty sure I saw little flecks of something flying from her mouth.

“There hasn’t been a lost line discovered since before this council was formed! Not for hundreds of years! This is not the seventeenth century when a Lost One would have no way of contacting us … we have a website! What proof is offered?”

“I feel it in my womb,” Mel called out, standing and moving toward the aisle.

“Something more than Melaina Seraphina Blackwood’s queasy stomach, perhaps?” Cassandra’s mom demanded from the stage.

Mel started walking toward us.

“He has resonants which ran true in my line — I will swear to this.”

Both Cassandra’s mom and Sam’s shook their heads, as well as another Magira at the far end of the table.

“Coincidence,” Cassandra’s mom said. “Others could well have had that without your claiming them as your kin.”

“That’s true,” Sam whispered.

“All the more reason to doubt your claim and show this warlock is nothing more than the misbegotten offspring of some outcasts,” Sam’s mom said. “To breed true after so much time lost? Implausible.”

It really was a toss-up for me to decide which of my … well, mothers-in-law, I guess, I disliked more at that moment. Then I realized a full-coven meant I was going to have ten more mothers-in-law before this was done, and, so far, I was batting under .500. Two hated me and, while I did like Rachel’s grandmother, I hadn’t met her mom yet.

“I really need to mark a psychologist into the coven so I can get free therapy,” I muttered. “Maybe I should talk to the vampire.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Is she right?”

Sam shrugged.

“We know there’s something genetic to the resonants, but it’s not as simple as, say, eye color, and then there’s the, you know, magic. It’s why Sororix Prescott was so disappointed in me — Love isn’t something that runs in our Family, so she wasn’t expecting it. Same with onesies.”

Mel reached us, gave me a hug, then hugged Sam and Cassandra. She whispered something to Cassandra, who nodded, then hugged Rachel.

“Brilliant, dear,” Mel whispered. “I hadn’t even considered that.” She chuckled. “I’m right here, after all.”

Rachel flushed and ducked her head. “It was right there in the Principium.”

Mel kissed her cheek. “But you’re the one who thought of it.”

“All this talk of resonants means nothing,” Sam’s mother went on. “My own daughter, Samantha, received a resonant rare in our Family. These things are not set in stone.”

Having met the head of it, I was not, in fact, surprised to hear that Love was rare in Sam’s Family.

“He has touched and tamed wild mana,” Mel went on, turning to face the stage again. “Something also not seen since before the Death — and always lost when the line’s founder perished.”

“Many lines are said to have done the same and there is no certainty the founder must live,” Magira Blake said. “Impressive though it be, it is not proof of a lost line, nor of yours.”

Some of the magirae were nodding. It seemed like the Council was turning against us, but Mel was grinning like we’d already won. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, smiling so viciously I was certain Willowmere’s PA magic was about to announce Fatality!

“It is well known that my line was close to the Goddess and were blessed,” Mel said. “I remember the times, well before the Death, when covens formed for more than power alone and when witch blood ran in child after child.” She paused. “When our children came to us nearly as we wished, to every witch who desired it, by the will of her warlock and with the Goddess’ blessing.”

Some of the Council members were nodding along with her, maybe not from their own memories as Mel seemed to be saying, but certain of their history.

“Even as others lost that gift,” Mel said, “my line retained it. Until the Death itself, a warlock of my line, if blessed by the Goddess, could give his coven children as he willed; and with the Death and the loss of my family, such a thing has not been known since. Until now. Cassandra Ashe is with child. She bears a son, a warlock, blessed by the Goddess’ grace and by Noah Ashe’s will and power at the moment of their binding.”

“Impossible!” Magira Blake yelled.

Priscilla’s mom was staring at me, wide-eyed, then sighed, narrowing her eyes at me. I had a feeling she wished she’d heard that before agreeing to help us, so she could add a baby to her demands.

Cassandra grasped my hand and Sam’s with her other and stepped forward.

“It’s true.” She swallowed hard and ran her eyes over the Council members. “I felt Noah’s will drive his intent to give me a child.”

Rachel nodded. “Noah Ashe is a warlock of The Blackwood line — the last of them, save his son who grows within his witch’s womb. Conceived at their binding, and clear, incontrovertible evidence of the Goddess’ blessing on his coven and line.” She paused. “Tell us, Magirae, would the Goddess so bless a coven formed on deceit and treachery?”

Mel glared at the Council. “Noah Ashe is a warlock of the Blackwood line — I know this to be true and swear it by my Power, by my Grove, and by the Goddess who made me.”

“No,” Sam’s mother said, striding across the stage to look down on Mel. “No. It was one thing to rely on Melaina Seraphina Blackwood’s word for his admission to Willowmere as a supposed ‘legacy’, but this? Archimagira, this question, this claim, is far too serious to rely simply on the oath of one witch — even one so respected and revered as Melaina Seraphina Blackwood. I demand conclusive proof. We stand on Willowmere campus, which has its own coven — one independent of this Council, so that none may doubt its impartiality. I call for a Rite of Consanguinity!”

[1]. Little Chekist without a file.

“Little wannabe-cop not even important enough for the real bastards to file paperwork on.”