The salon was empty for the moment, but normally, Imani was so busy I was surprised that she even had a chance to sit down.

  She waved a hand, her bracelets tinkling together. “Not at all. I schedule my dinner break around this time, so I doubt anyone’s going to walk in off the street.”

  “I won’t keep you, then. I just wanted to drop in and give you this.” I pushed the box towards her, calling myself ten kinds of a fool for how weird and awkward I was acting. Unfortunately for me, being aware of it didn’t seem to do anything to help me stop.

  Imani blinked, a slow smile stretching across her face. “What’s this?”

  I took a deep breath, willing myself to calm down. “It’s just a ‘welcome to the coven’ gift. I thought you might want to wear it at the bonding ceremony.”

  Imani opened the box and when she lifted the soft, lavender velvet dress out, her dark eyes went round with surprise.

  “Oh, my Wanda. Did you make this?” I nodded as she set the box on a nearby chair so that she could hold it up against her chest. “It’s gorgeous! I love it. Thank you so, so much!”

  I was a little smugly pleased at her reaction. The velvet might have been an absolute pain to work with, especially when adding the lace straps and neckline, but I had to admit that the dress had come out perfectly. And the color was gorgeous against her skin.

  The velvet pile was short and plush enough that it gleamed with a subtle sheen in the salon lights, backed by the complicated enchantments woven through the stitches. The color, even just held up around Imani’s face, made her skin glow. And I could tell by the way it lay, even flat against her chest, that the fit would be perfect, like a custom glove.

  The dress was some of my best work, honestly. I gave myself a little pat on the back for that.

  “The ceremony is in three days, on the night of the full moon. Everything’s already arranged.” I squared my shoulders, feeling more confident with every word. “Just bring yourself and your familiar, an hour or so after sunset. We’ve got everything else prepared.”

  Imani carefully draped her dress across a chair so as not to wrinkle the fabric, and then, to my surprise, she reached out and hugged me.

  I wasn’t really much of a hugger, no matter how hard Poppy tried to convert me. So, I stood there awkwardly, patting Imani’s back like she was in need of consoling. Her hair smelled faintly of jasmine. I was surprised because most witches weren’t the physically effusive types. But maybe they did things differently in New Orleans, or maybe it was just Imani who was different.

  She gave me a squeeze and then stepped back, no doubt sensing that I’d used up my quota of touchy-feely stuff for the month.

  “I knew I made the right decision, coming here.” She lifted the dress again, running her fingers over the lush fabric delicately. “I’ll see you all in three days, then.”

  “See you then!”

  I strode out the door, the heels of my boots clicking against the sidewalk, startling a bird in a nearby tree into flight. Finally, something was going right. I felt like someone had taken a thirty-pound weight off my shoulders. Circle Scapegrace was on its way to gaining a new member. And while Imani might like to buck the system, and she didn’t have a lot of respect for the old traditionalists and their ways, she was still powerful enough to be well thought of in society. She’d bring a bit of respectability to our rather notorious coven.

  We were lucky to have her. And this was just the first step. We would forge Circle Scapegrace into a force to be reckoned with, and everyone would know that coming after one of our members would be an incredibly stupid and dangerous thing to do. What happened to Astrid, what happened to Maverick... it would never, ever, happen again.

  I’d make sure of it.

  .

  Chapter Eight

  My good mood lasted right up until later that evening, when I walked through the door of the coven house and ran face first into Maverick’s temper tantrum.

  “How is it that someone throws a mannequin at your front door, and you somehow forget to tell me?”

  It had been a long time since I’d seen Maverick this absolutely furious, but my cousin was definitely seething at the moment. Little pops of electricity snapped around his clenched fists, his eyes almost glowing with power. He looked about two seconds from calling down a storm right on top of our heads.

  Thank the Goddess Taliyah was also there, because if anyone could calm him down, she could. Currently, she was leaning back against the wall. And that wasn’t because she was trying to get out of the line of fire, but more that she was waiting to get involved, either to back up Maverick, or to calm him down if anything went sideways.

  I wanted to snap back. I could feel the anger rolling up my spine, my own blood magic roiling uneasily beneath my skin. Who did he think he was? I was the High Witch of this coven, and he thought he had the right to challenge me? To challenge my decisions? Everything in me wanted to lash out, to shut him down, dismiss him. But I managed to haul back the impulse. It wasn’t helpful... What was more, it was in the vein of the old ways. And wasn’t the entire point of Scapegrace to move away from the old?

  Another reason I couldn’t just brush him off was because I knew he’d been on edge ever since the debacle at Blood Rose. What was more, I actually cared about Maverick, much though I might not want to admit it. And after what had happened to Astrid at Blood Rose and Maverick’s taking the blame on himself, I couldn’t let him do it again with Sybil, his daughter for all intents and purposes.

  So, I swallowed back the sarcastic little barb that was waiting behind my teeth, and took a breath instead. “I overreacted, Maverick. I had no real reason to believe there was any threat to Sybil. Realistically, it’s most likely some new vampire who thinks they’re big and bad and taking a swing at Lorcan.” Maverick opened his mouth, but I interrupted him with a raised hand before he could get started on the next diatribe. “But you’re right, I should have told you anyway and for that...” Here it came. “I’m sorry.”

  Well, that certainly took the wind out of his sails. Maverick kind of deflated, though he was still squinting suspiciously at me, like he was half waiting for the punchline. I wondered if anyone had ever told him he was right before, or maybe he was more floored over the fact that I’d just apologized—something I didn’t do... often.

  Still scowling, Maverick crossed his arms. He started to speak, at a more reasonable volume this time, when his eyes darted to the staircase and he cleared his throat.

  “Sybil. What are you doing?”

  Sybil was crouched at the top of the stairs, her little band of followers half-hidden behind her. The red-head was the boldest, watching everything that was going down from behind Sybil. The werewolf girl was sunk down as low as possible, clearly wishing she was anywhere else. And the other fae girl was hiding behind Sybil herself, only one gleaming black eye visible as she peeped over my daughter/cousin’s shoulder.

  “We heard shouting,” Sybil offered, apologetic. “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine.” The way Maverick said the words, they ended up coming out like a threat. “Take your friends back upstairs, please.”

  The four girls scattered back up the stairs like the wind, whispering amongst each other.

  Maverick pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly trying to rein in his temper. He glared at the stairs, and then at me before jerking his head towards the front door.

  In most places, going outside the house wouldn’t be an ideal move if what you were looking for was privacy. But the Tudor revival house sat back far enough on the property that nearby neighbors weren’t a problem. And with a teenage werewolf in the house, able to listen in from another floor entirely and probably repeating everything back to her fascinated little coterie, going outside was really the only way we weren’t going to be overheard.

  At least Maverick didn’t seem to be on the edge of an eruption any longer.

  Everyone was quiet for a few minutes, and I wrapped my arms around my torso in an attempt to actually hang on to some of my body heat. I didn’t know if it was just winter’s last hurrah clinging to the town, or if Taliyah was affecting the local weather, but it was cold at night, and I hadn’t thought to grab my coat before Maverick stormed out.

  It was dark out. No one had bothered to flip on the porch light, so the waxing moon was the only illumination. I could still see pretty well, though. Enough that I caught a flash of movement in the tree closest to the house.

  There was a single bird nestled among the branches. Just standing there. It flashed its wings as I watched, before settling down again, and I caught a hint of white feathers and a gleam of metallic blue. A magpie? Didn’t they tend to travel in flocks?

  “Why do you think this is a threat against Lorcan?” Maverick’s question jerked my attention away from the bird in the tree.

  “It makes sense, doesn’t it? Someone attacks a mundane in town, and leaves them stumbling around, low on blood with a wound in their neck? Then someone leaves a fake body at the doorstep of the oldest vampire in town with a red scarf wrapped around its neck? It feels like a glove slap. Like someone wants attention.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Or,” I continued, with a shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature outside. “It’s one of Rupert’s people who have figured out… well, you know. And they’re threatening to expose me.”

  Maverick stared down the driveway for a long time. “Wanda, your first instinct was that there was a threat to the coven. To Sybil. To the point that you and your vampire came racing over here to check on her. Why?”

  I was used to Maverick as my pain in the butt cousin. Smug in his power, sneering at anyone who looked down on him, with a chip on his shoulder the size of Oregon. I wasn’t used to this stranger, who thought things through and chased down leads and was all serious and driven. I supposed the shades of it had always been present, but still. It was unsetting.

  “The mannequin… and how it looked like her.” I shook my head, feeling foolish but still giving him the closest thing to the truth I had. “It just seemed like too big a coincidence. Especially after everything. I couldn’t risk anything happening to her.”

  Taliyah shifted, the gravel crunching under her weight. I’d forgotten she was there for a second.

  “Only the coven knows about the circumstances of Sybil’s… birth,” she pointed out. “If a threat was made, then that would mean someone in the coven would have had to be the one to make it.”

  The words landed like a slap, echoing through my skull. Fury came hard on shock’s heels, and I had to clench my hands into fists to keep from hexing Taliyah into the ground, even though it wasn’t her fault that her mind jumped to such conclusions. My nails dug into the soft skin of my palms, arms shaking from the tension. Goddess, what was going on with me lately? It seemed my anger was out of control—like I couldn’t handle my own emotions.

  Regardless, the idea that someone in the coven, my coven, would betray us in such a fundamental way, no. I couldn’t even consider it. Witches might be a catty, ambitious, grasping bunch, but you didn’t turn on your own coven. Even the monstrous things my mother had done, she’d excused herself with the fact that the men had never been members of the coven, and Astrid had been banished already.

  And that was Crescent Circle. It wasn’t Scapegrace. We were different. No one would do that. None of us. I knew that, down to my bones. No one would have risked Sybil like that. She might not be a witch, but she was still ours.

  The fact that Taliyah was standing there, accusing one of my people of the most horrific betrayal known to us, with her Police Chief face expression like she was reporting on the traffic, it had my power howling beneath my skin like a volcano about to shoot liquid fire into the sky.

  Say what you would about Maverick, his senses were on point. He must have felt the buck and surge of my anger, because he whirled around, alarmed at just how close his wife of convenience was to taking a blood bolt to the face.

  My coven would not be one to fail because of rumors of betrayal. We were so close to the bonding ceremony; we didn’t have time for doubts and mud slinging from some deposed faerie princess.

  “Not the only one,” I said, my voice ugly. “You were there, when Sybil was born, weren’t you, Taliyah? And you were pretty annoyed earlier, at some vampire attacking a tourist on your beat, weren’t you? So, how do I know that you weren’t the one leaving a little warning ‘present’ on Lorcan’s doorstep?”

  Then Maverick was suddenly standing between us. “What the spell is wrong with you, Wanda? Do you really think Tally would do something like that?”

  “She’s the one flinging accusations around like they’re free,” I snapped back, glaring at them both. “I’m just pointing out that her own glass house is looking a little too fragile to be throwing stones.”

  Maverick raked a hand back through his hair, making the strands stick up. Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. “She wasn’t accusing us of anything. She was pointing out a fact. If it was a threat against Sybil, then it had to have come from someone who knows the truth.”

  I laughed, but the sound came out harsh and mocking. “It was baseless, and you know it. I don’t need that kind of crap right now, and it’s not useful for protecting the coven.”

  “Right,” Maverick said, his face twisted up with bitterness as he grabbed Taliyah’s hand. “Because you’re doing such a good job of that.”

  If Taliyah’s words had been a slap, Maverick’s were a sucker punch. They left me reeling, floundering around in the dark and reaching for some kind of solid ground. I stood there, silent, as he marched off down the driveway with Taliyah in tow, and I was sure she’d have words with him about that later. Police Chief Faerie princesses probably disliked being dragged around about as much as witches did.

  I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know what to think. So, I just stood there, watching as Maverick reversed angrily down the driveway, his tires spitting out gravel. I stood there long enough to see the tail lights disappear around the corner.

  Then I let out a long, shuddering breath.

  That… could have gone better. In fact, I wasn’t sure how it could have gone worse.

  I’d overreacted. I could admit that to myself. It was just so, so hard to hear an accusation like that thrown at Scapegrace. We already had the odds stacked against us to a ludicrous degree. We didn’t need the specter of infighting hovering over us, too.

  It just felt like, there we were, on the verge of pulling things together. The bonding ceremony was in three days. And now, it was all falling apart around my ears, and the harder I tried to keep it together, the faster it broke. At this point, I wasn’t even sure Maverick would show up for the ceremony.

  I pressed my thumb against my temple, trying to stave off the headache that was threatening, and stood there in the driveway, not sure what to do.

  Chapter Nine

  Ridiculously early the next morning, at the crack of ten am, someone had the horrifically bad idea to call me.

  I groaned, swatting around the top of the nightstand, trying to silence the horribly chirpy version of ‘I put a spell on you’ that Poppy had programmed into the thing as a joke. I made a mental note to hex her hair green the next time I saw her.

  At least I didn’t have to worry about waking Lorcan beside me. He was dead to the world, literally, and would be so until the sun set again.

  I finally managed to grab my phone and get it more or less in the area of my ear, offering a bleary, “Who the spell is it?”

  Whoever it was was lucky I couldn’t curse someone over the phone line, because there was no reason good enough to be trying to talk to me this early in the morning. Maybe if something was on fire. Or someone was dead. Though, they wouldn’t get any less dead by sunset, so that one was still iffy.

  “Wanda?”

  It took me a second, but I finally placed Imani’s voice and reined my own in. “Is something on fire?”

  Imani was quiet for long enough that I wondered if I’d nodded back off. Then she said, “No.” There was something in her voice, though. A tone, a tension I’d never heard from her before. It was enough to cause me to actually lift my head off the pillow.

  “Imani? What is it? What’s wrong?”

  There was a sound of a shaky breath, and I sat bolt upright in bed, the covers spilling around me.

  “I, uh.” Imani cleared her throat. “I need to talk to you. Can you come down to the salon?”

  At that, I hesitated. I hadn’t been out in the daytime since I’d started the whole charade of pretending to be a vampire in order to throw off Rupert’s surviving lackeys. The upside to my new strictly nocturnal schedule had been spending more time with Lorcan, but otherwise it had been a bit of a pain. Especially having to pretend not to be the High Witch of my own coven.

  But, with everything going on, with Imani joining the coven at a time when we desperately needed new members, could I really turn her down? I’d never heard her sound so concerned, and normally, Imani was very much a bright, bubbly woman, so clearly something was up, especially if she was reaching out to me in daylight.

  It might justify the risk of going out.

  “Okay,” I told her. “I’m on my way.”

  The second I ended the call, I was hitting another number in my contacts.

  It only rang once before a subdued voice picked up.

  “Marty? I need a ride.”

  ***

  Lying in a coffin isn’t the kind of thing you get used to.

  At least not in a few months.

  What was even weirder was how comfortable it was. I never thought of coffins being particularly cozy, just wood and lining. But Lorcan had spared no expense on the one he kept in his hearse for daytime travel. The thing was padded, lined in satin, and had better suspension than some cars. If it weren’t for the lid, I might even have been able to take a nap.