“Me?”

  “The claimant thinks you’re giving away coven secrets to our enemy.”

  “What secrets?” I asked.

  Kel shrugged.

  “It’s a witch hunt,” I said. “Literally.”

  Kel didn’t laugh. Honestly, the joke was horrible, but it was the only thing that kept me from crying. I bit my lip, hating everything about this fucked up situation.

  “Convince him to come to dinner,” Kel said. “And then find a way to pretend you haven’t fallen in love with him.”

  “He won’t listen to me,” I said miserably.

  “Yes,” she said, sounding way more confident than I dared to question, “he will.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  After Kel left, I did what any girl with a lot on her mind would do: closed myself in my shop and brewed a potion. Silas found me halfway through my cup of “chill the f*ck out” tea. I wondered if he’d waited on purpose. Probably safer.

  “Bad time?”

  “Hold on.” I tipped back the tiny clay mug my mom had made in her one and only attempt at pottery and emptied the contents. “All good,” I said when I was done.

  “Strong stuff?”

  I poured another cup and held it out. “See for yourself.”

  He sniffed it, wrinkled his nose, and then chugged it.

  “Okay then. Not alcohol,” he said when he’d finished.

  I smirked. “Better, actually.”

  His brow lifted. “That’s a big claim.”

  “Give it a minute.”

  “Am I going to turn into a toad or something?”

  “Not this time.”

  He looked around, and I realized with a weird sort of nervousness this was the first time we’d ever been inside my workshop alone. It felt personal. Intimate even.

  I reminded myself he’d already seen me naked. But still, this felt strangely vulnerable.

  “So, you like plants,” he said finally.

  I swallowed a laugh. “That’s one way to look at it.”

  He cocked his head, so focused on me it made my skin sing. “What’s another way?”

  “Well…” I looked around, mostly to get my bearings. The full force of Silas Hale’s attention was a little much for my senses. My eyes landed on the rows and rows of planters lining the far wall. “I start by harvesting from the garden out back. And then I either hang the bundles there—” I pointed at the drying herbs above the back table. “—or I put them inside the dehydrator here.”

  I tapped the tabletop machine. A gift from Arnie. Before...

  “Why not use the dehydrator for all of it?”

  “Depends on the intent of the herb. If it’s for a spell or ritual, it’s best to let nature do the drying.”

  “A spell. You mean like the earth magic you were talking about.”

  “Right.”

  “Okay, and how do you use these dried leaves for a spell? Do you just eat them or whatever?”

  I smiled. “Sometimes. Or drink them.” I nodded at his empty mug. “But mostly, I either decoct them for tinctures and syrups or grind them.”

  “That’s a whole lot of words I’ve never heard before.”

  I started to launch into a full explanation of each process but then stopped myself. “You really want to know all this?”

  “I want to know everything about you.” The words were so earnest even Silas looked surprised. “Whoa, okay, that tea is dangerous. Am I tea-drunk?”

  “You’re relaxed,” I said, trying to hold back a laugh.

  “Yeah. That too.” He slid onto the extra stool I kept for customers who wanted an in-person consult. Not that I did much of those anymore. He propped his legs on the table, ankles crossed, and clasped his hands behind his head. “Okay, little witch, explain all this to me.”

  I went slow, gauging if his interest was real, but he stayed with me, asking questions and nodding along during the entire lecture.

  At the end, he looked impressed. And I felt better for the change in subject.

  “This is incredible. And you do it all by yourself? From memory?”

  I shrugged. “I had a great teacher. My mom had me in here helping her from the time I could read a recipe. Even before that, I can remember stealing her shampoo as a kid and using it to make potions in the bathtub.”

  “I bet your mom loved that. Did you get into trouble?”

  “Nah. I blamed it on Drew.”

  He laughed, shaking his head, but when he looked at me again, the amusement had turned to something that felt weirdly like awe.

  “You’re kind of fucking amazing, Chloe.”

  “Thanks.” Pleasure zipped through me, radiating all the way to my guarded little heart. Dammit, that tea had relaxed me enough to feel thoroughly gooey. “You’re not so bad either.”

  He grinned. “Now who’s tea-drunk?”

  “Speaking of which, how have you never had tea before?”

  He shrugged. “We were coffee drinkers at my house. Well, and whiskey. Coffee before noon, whiskey after. Sort of an unspoken rule, I guess.”

  “Sounds hard.”

  “It worked, I guess. My dad was never the same after the curse, but he wasn’t as bad as some. He did make me hot cider once when I was sick, though. Pretty sure he put whiskey in that too, but it sure helped knock my fever out. Man, I haven’t thought about that for years.”

  “Cider? Not hot chocolate?”

  “Nah. Wolves are allergic to chocolate.”

  “They are? Wait, I’ve had chocolate.”

  “I got you for a minute though.”

  I shook my head. “That was terrible.”

  He laughed, and I found myself smiling along with him. Maybe it was the tea, but in this moment, with no one but us and the scent of dried lavender in the air, it felt so easy.

  An illusion, I reminded myself.

  Kel’s words echoed back at me.

  Secrets. Enemy.

  “So,” I said, “Speaking of terrible. How about that dinner?”

  I bit my lip, wondering if he’d blow up or storm out or curse. But he just looked steadily back at me, wearing an unreadable expression on his handsome face.

  “How about it?”

  There was a secret in his eyes, something hidden I was half-afraid to dig up.

  “I think we should go.”

  “I think we should find out who made the complaint and kick their ass. Doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.”

  I bit my lip.

  For once, we agreed.

  “Worried they’ll find another potion maker?”

  If he’d been teasing at all, I would have been pissed at his flippant question. But the look he gave me said he knew—and understood—that worry.

  “It’s not about me,” I said quietly. “Kel’s right. They’ll make you leave. If you don’t win them over, they’ll exile you. They’ve done it before.”

  “Leaving isn’t the worst idea.” He eyed me carefully as if gauging my reaction. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, anyway. Why didn’t you leave? After your mom died, I mean. You and Drew could have gone anywhere. Started fresh. Somewhere you didn’t have to hide. Why stay?”

  I looked away, grief and pain rising up fresh and sharp. “After Mom died, there were very few people left in the world who loved me. Who I loved back. Kel was one of those. Arnie too. I couldn’t… I didn’t want to give that up.”

  “You’d rather sacrifice parts of yourself than lose someone else.”

  It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t bother confirming his words. We both knew they were true. That was my problem. Always playing the part. Always putting everyone else first.

  “What did Kel say to you?” he asked.

  I ducked my head, blinking back hot tears.

  “There’s more to that complaint, isn’t there? Something she doesn’t want me to know. And that means it’s about you.”

  I sighed. “Someone has accused me of passing secrets to the enemy.”

  “Let me guess. I’m that enemy.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “What will happen to you if I don’t win them over?”

  I frowned. “It’s not about me,” I repeated, the words sounding more and more hollow.

  “You really don’t get it, do you?”

  “What?”

  “For me, everything—all of it—is about you.”

  I stared at him, struck by the words.

  At my silence, frustration flickered in his eyes. “What will happen to you if I don’t win them over?” he repeated.

  “I don’t know.”

  He cursed, and I flinched at the harshness of it against the sweetness of what he’d said before.

  He looked back at me, his expression resolute. “Do you have any more of that tea?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I’m going to need an entire pot if I’m going to that damned party.”

  *.*.*

  The coven house was lit up brighter than Yule. I stared at it, wary of the way its exterior seemed to exude cheer and welcome especially when everything that awaited us inside felt so sinister.

  “What’s wrong?” Drew asked, coming up beside me.

  He passed the keys to the valet and then looked at me expectantly.

  “The house,” I said, wrinkling my nose.

  “It looks nice,” Drew said, confused.

  “It looks like it’s trying too hard.”

  Drew snorted. “You’re being dramatic.” He clapped Silas on the back of his borrowed suit jacket. “Come on, brother. I’ll buy you a drink.”

  Brother.

  Drew had been calling him that since yesterday.

  Apparently, while I’d been raging out in my workshop last night, Drew and Silas had bonded over their shared protectiveness of me or some shit. To top it off, they’d spent the day together in the woods just the two of them—as wolves.

  And now, Drew couldn’t stop calling us all a pack.

  I didn’t have the heart to correct him. Or to consider what would happen to us now if Silas was exiled—or worse. I’d stood by while my mother had slowly withered from this coven’s cruelty. I wouldn’t do it a second time.

  At Drew’s insistence, Silas let himself be led away. We all knew our mission: find out who’d made the complaint so we could convince them to withdraw it. Drew had suggested we split up. “Divide and conquer,” he’d said with a grin. I still wasn’t convinced his plan was smart, but Silas had sided with him, and that had been that.

  Now, I followed them reluctantly up the steps and into the coven house where soft music poured in from wall-mounted speakers. The hallway had been lined with a red runner, signaling the arriving guests to keep it moving. Following the red path set out for us, we bypassed the large family room that was the usual hub for daily activity.

  Tonight, I knew the party would be held in the ballroom at the back. It was huge—almost as big as the entire rest of the house put together—and typically only ever used for formal events like this one. Except for when Kel and I used to sneak inside and play “princess” when we were little. But I was pretty sure no one else knew about that. Those stolen playtimes had made this place feel almost as homey as the main house did. But not tonight.

  The moment I stepped through the archway, any familiarity of this place left me. New décor had transformed the space and, combined with the sea of unfriendly faces, made it all feel strangely foreign. Tapestries billowed in a soft breeze created by large fans whose main job was to spread the softly rolling fog across the floor.

  I glanced around for fog machines but found none. Miranda then. She was gifted with water and especially good at creating clouds. Hell, the bitch was a doom cloud her damn self.

  When I spotted her in the corner, surrounded by other council members and coven members of influence, I wasn’t surprised.

  Maybe she was the one who’d filed the complaint.

  “Try not to look so tortured.”

  Kel’s voice at my ear made me jump.

  “Don’t do that,” I hissed.

  “Smile.” She poked me, and I jerked away, forcing the shape of my mouth into something resembling friendliness.

  “Err. Okay, maybe don’t,” Kel said, recoiling at my expression. “That’s making it worse, I think.”

  “I’m here,” I said. “You got your wish. You don’t get smiles too.”

  “Chloe,” she began, but I cut her off.

  “Just tell me who to schmooze so I can make these people trust me.”

  She hesitated. “I can’t tell you who filed the complaint.”

  I hadn’t expected her to, but I’d hoped. Still, if she wouldn’t give me the name, I’d figure it out for myself.

  “Then tell me who can help me fight it.”

  “All right,” she said, all business now. “Neesa for one.”

  “Neesa? Are you sure?”

  She and Nevil had always seemed so ambitious.

  “She’s hard to earn but a strong ally if you can get her in your corner.”

  “Okay. Who else?”

  “Vylan has a lot of support with the others. And he likes you. I’d start there.”

  I spotted Vylan chatting with Elaine, another council member, near the buffet. Not far from where they stood, Drew and Silas waited at the bar for drinks. I couldn’t help lingering on Silas, appreciating the way he filled out a suit and tie. Even a borrowed one.

  Forcing myself to focus, I started for Vylan. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “Chloe.” Kel stopped me with a warning look. “Tonight, you’re not in l—”

  “I got it.” I strode away before she could finish the sentence.

  Vylan and Dierdre offered genuine smiles at the sight of me. A moment later, a glass of champagne was being pushed into my hands, and despite all my big talk about hating the politics, I found myself enjoying their company. Dierdre drifted away after a bit, and I found myself alone with Vylan.

  “Been a long time since the coven had a party like this,” he said.

  I watched as he glanced around at the crowd, a look of bittersweet happiness crossing his aged features.

  “It feels different now, doesn’t it?”

  “Change always does.” He refocused on me, eyes sharp as ever even if his tone was relaxed. “Speaking of change, I haven’t seen you in town lately. You don’t open your weekend booth anymore?”

  I shrugged. “Internet sales are up.”

  “And your healing practice? How is that going?”

  I swallowed down the wince at his words. “My gifts lie elsewhere, remember?”

  “Bah. Don’t tell me the doubters have infected you too.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Chloe, I’ve known you since you were knee-high. You’ve had the gift of healing long before it could be attributed to magic. And yet, you let those more insecure than you dictate what you believe to be true about yourself.”

  I stared at him, speechless.

  “Don’t look at me like that.” He chuckled. “I may be only wind-gifted, but a man who’s lived as long as I have sees things as they are well enough.”

  “You surprised me is all. But… What I believe about myself doesn’t matter as long as the ones in power believe differently. Induction is still a requirement, and it’s still something I’m unwilling to do. I don’t get to make the rules.”

  He leaned in, his eyes twinkling with challenge. “Says who?”

  I didn’t have an answer for that one.

  Someone called Vylan’s name, and he patted my arm. “Food for thought, young lady. We’ll speak soon.”

  I nodded, distracted, as he left me alone.

  Drew found me, offering me a fresh glass of champagne.

  “I already have one,” I said.

  “Yes, at one time I can see that you did,” he said wryly.

  “What?” I looked down only to realize my glass was empty. “Oh.”

  Maybe the liquid courage was the reason I’d enjoyed myself.

  Drew took it from me and set it on a tray carried by a passing server. Then he offered me the full glass.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Where’s Silas?”

  “Making his own rounds.”

  I followed the direction of his gaze and spotted Silas at the far end of the crowded room. Talking to Miranda. No, not just talking. Laughing.

  My blood heated, and something inside my chest wound tight at the sight of them together.

  “Looks like he’s taking his job seriously,” I muttered.

  Drew shot me a glance. “Maybe ease up on the eye daggers, sis. He’s just talking.”

  And laughing.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I forced myself to look away, and Drew shook his head. “Kel owes me twenty bucks.”

  “For what?”

  “I warned her you coming here with him would either solve the problem or make it monumentally worse.”

  I glared at him. “You bet on my failure?”

  “I bet on you making your life complicated,” he said. “You’re just like dad.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “You try so hard to do the right thing even when it’s bad for you. And the only one who suffers for it is you.”

  Anger bubbled up, hot and indignant.

  “You think I chose to be accused of giving secrets to our enemy?”

  My voice rose as my temper spiked. I sensed eyes on us, but I didn’t care. Drew was always lecturing me, but this was too much.

  “Of course not—”

  “You think I brought it on myself that my gift isn’t healing and the coven refuses to let me practice anymore?”

  “Chloe.” Drew’s gaze darted left and right.

  Conversations around us halted.

  “No, you’re right,” I said. “If the right thing is bad for me, maybe I should go ahead and do the wrong thing instead.”

  I shoved past him. Past everyone.

  The anger drove me, sending me on a blind escape.

  Drew was being a prick. Nothing new. But doing it in front of a crowd, and in front of the council, no less, was a new low. Kel had forced me into this and Silas—he was off flirting with the woman who was probably behind the attempt to exile him in the first place.

  Drew was right. Doing the right thing only brought suffering.