But as Imani drove down the winding driveway up to where the coven house was awash with golden lights, I had to admit that I was feeling a bit nervous.

  Imani turned the car off, and we sat there in silence for a long moment while I fought to coax my magic back down. Imani didn’t say anything, she just watched me with big dark solemn eyes. When I thought I could move without setting something on fire, I let myself out of the car, my boots crunching on the gravel drive.

  Everyone was there waiting for us, all of the coven, including Poppy who was looking nervous and a little frazzled. She kept twisting the sleeves of her sweater around and around, stretching the fabric out.

  Maverick was there with Taliyah, which didn’t surprise me. While she wasn’t a coven member, she was technically Maverick’s wife, though from the way she was standing there with one hand on his shoulder, I wondered just how long the ‘technical’ part might last. She met my eyes, and there was a silent demand in them.

  Now, anyone who’s met me knows I react as well to demands as I do to being told what to do, but I understood where Taliyah was coming from, and I wasn’t about to try and kick her out of a coven meeting. At least in part because I knew Maverick would probably just tell her everything later anyway, and I wouldn’t mind having her law enforcement trained insight on the whole debacle.

  One person was noticeably absent, and I felt a little jolt of alarm. Taliyah and Maverick weren’t raising hell, so I knew it couldn’t be anything bad, but I still couldn’t help but ask. “Where’s Sybil?”

  “I sent her up to her room.” Maverick crossed his arms over his chest, like he was daring me to question him on it. “She doesn’t need to hear all of this.”

  I hesitated, but let it go. It wasn’t that I didn’t agree with him. For all that she looked like a young teen, Sybil wasn’t. Intelligence couldn’t always make up for experience, and I didn’t want to frighten her. As annoying as her naivete could be, I wasn’t in a hurry to ruin it, either.

  But Sybil was basing a lot of her learned behavior and social cues from Astrid, who was not just a teenage witch, but a red-headed teenage witch: a rule breaking radical of an already strong-willed group. And if Maverick had gone around treating his sister that way—sending her off to bed like a child so that the grownups could talk, he would have been lucky if he only ended up hexed.

  If he wasn’t lucky, Astrid would have hexed him, turned the house wards against him, and created some new kind of itching potion by the time he confronted her about the first two.

  The point was that the overprotective, lock your princess in a tower and don’t let her know anything about anything wasn’t something that worked well. And if you pulled it on a witch, then it tended to work out in the shape of a magical mushroom cloud rising up from ground zero of everything you ever cared about.

  But Maverick was acting as Sybil’s father, so I’d let it go. For now. Later I’d have to have a chat with him, and hopefully it would end without us screaming at each other or a magical duel.

  I might not ever have been a mother, but I’d been a teenager many, many moons ago, and I knew exactly what they were like.

  Luckily for him, we had other things to worry about at the moment.

  I felt Lorcan before he came up beside me, his hand sliding over my lower back. His face was tight, but he tried to smile, anyway. “I woke up, and you weren’t there.”

  “Didn’t you see my note?” I hadn’t just sprinted out the door when Imani had called me. I’d known that Lorcan would have been worried, ridiculous though it was in my own mind. Still, it was nice to have someone concerned about me, even if it was completely unwarranted.

  “It had fallen off the pillow by the time I woke up,” he said wryly. “It got a little lost in the bedsheets. Fortunately, it smelled of your perfume.”

  Lorcan lifted my hand, turning it palm up so that he could brush his nose over the little blue cluster of veins at my wrist. His touch sent a shiver up my spine and had my belly tightening with a sudden rush of want. I wished I could have just dragged him upstairs to my seldom used room, away from all of this, and into my bed. It felt like days since I’d been able to properly touch him, and I had to fight the urge not to slide my hands under his shirt and up the hard planes of his chest.

  Lorcan must have seen something in my face, or my scent changed, because his beautiful green eyes darkened, the pupils blowing wide as he smiled down at me.

  “Can you two stop staring at each other like you’re starving? It’s super gross,” Maverick commented, frowning.

  Lorcan’s voice was a little husky when he let my hand ease back down to my side. “It seems we are repulsing the staff,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Staff,” Maverick repeated, his eyes narrowing.

  “Will you stop it, Maverick? He’s just saying that to rile you because he knows how easy it is.”

  Lorcan laughed low in his chest as he pressed his lips against my temple, and I closed my eyes for just a second. In that moment, there was no threat, the coven was safe, and it was just the two of us... alone.

  “I assume there’s a reason you called us all here, and that reason is not to watch you canoodle with your undead swain.”

  And just like that, the moment was shattered. Thank you so very much, Hellcat. The little wretch’s favorite hobby was making me miserable.

  “No, it certainly wasn’t,” I responded snidely. “I wanted to take up a collection to get you neutered,” I snapped at him, irritated beyond all measure.

  From his position sitting in front of Olga’s chair by the fireplace, Franz laughed.

  Hellcat’s ears flattened, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. He spat at me. “You wouldn’t dare, you vile harridan!”

  “Don’t test me,” I muttered.

  Poppy clasped her hands together, looking concerned. “Wanda, what’s going on? You sounded…” I watched her expression go through a complicated series of facial gymnastics as she tried to find the right word. “Tense,” was the word she finally settled on. “On the phone. Is everything okay?”

  “Not really, no,” I sighed, wanting nothing more than to sit down and have a drink. We were overdue for a meeting of the Black Cat Cocktail Club as it was. Maybe I could start something similar for the coven. Just an excuse to sit around and knock back a few experimental drinks, and not have to worry about anything for a few hours. Maybe it would be good for team bonding. Hmm, one more idea to add to the list.

  Lorcan’s hand slid down my back to rest at the base of my spine, and it gave me the strength of mind I needed to address everyone. “The coven is being targeted.”

  “What?” Poppy said.

  “Targeted?” Betanya said at the same time as Olga said something in German I couldn’t understand.

  Well, that had certainly put a fox among the hens, and I waited for the initial kerfuffle to die down before I started ticking off the points on my fingers. “Proof so far is Olga’s letters being stolen and hidden under Betanya’s bed.”

  “Then there was the situation with the mannequin left at Lorcan’s door,” I tapped that one out on my middle finger. I was still salty as hell about it. Whether it was a threat of exposure to Lorcan and me, or a threat against Sybil, however it was meant to be taken, it was causing all my worst instincts to sit up and take notice. And plot elaborate revenge fantasies.

  “And finally, someone decided to trash Imani’s salon last night and, in the process, they tried to target Maverick as the culprit.”

  Maverick’s jaw tensed, the tendons standing out in stark relief, but he tipped his chin back like he was daring someone to accuse him of something.

  “Maverick? He’d never do that,” Poppy said, all guileless blue eyes and good intentions. “Imani is one of the only people he gets along with.”

  Maverick managed to look both surprised at the defense, and irritated by the unintended insult.

  “Oh, no, I meant…” Poppy, like most fair skinned blondes, blushed all the way to the roots of her hair. She clasped a hand to her forehead, as though that might keep us all from noticing the nearly fluorescent red of her cheeks. “I’m just going to stop talking now.”

  “No, you’re right, Poppy, Maverick wouldn’t do a thing like that... to any of us,” I said.

  Don’t get me wrong, Maverick could be every bit as much of an arsehole as any other witch I’d met. He was touchy, and temperamental, and I imagined he’d always have a chip on his shoulder. But he fell more along the lines of ‘elaborate revenge plots’ (kind of like I did). He was more a ‘sabotage your attempts to settle into a new town’ kind of person, not a ‘smash your stuff with a baseball bat’ type. That sort of destruction just wasn’t his style. Also, for some Twilight Zone level of reason, he and Imani actually did seem to get along. I just couldn’t see him doing anything like it.

  “Someone has taken issue with you and your band of imbeciles and half-wits?” Hellcat sneered. “Who could have ever imagined.”

  “Wait.” Poppy shook her head. “What’s this about a mannequin?”

  In a clipped voice, I went over everything I remembered about that night. All the while, Poppy’s expression went from horrified to even more horrified. She darted a glance at the stairs, making it obvious that her thoughts were going along the same track as mine were. That it had been a threat against Sybil, and not Lorcan at all. But how would someone have found out about Sybil’s true identity or how she’d come to be? It didn’t make sense.

  “We also have our unknown vampire assailant,” Taliyah chimed in. “We couldn’t get a description from the victim. Apparently, their attacker came from behind, so they never saw who or what attacked them. And as all of the known vampires in town have said it wasn’t one of them and they all have alibis supporting those statements, we’re at a loss there too.”

  I could feel Lorcan stiffening against me, and I don’t mean that in a good way. He was bothered by Taliyah’s words or maybe the tone in which she delivered them—like she wasn’t convinced he or someone like him wasn’t behind the attack.

  Lorcan wasn’t what I’d call an aggressive man. Sure, there was a degree of predatory nature there, but just the part that came along with being one of the blood-sucking undead. He was pretty laid back, most of the time. He had to be, or our relationship would have ended a long time ago, probably in an explosion or natural disaster level argument.

  Lorcan’s head snapped towards me as my hand landed on his arm. His teeth gleaming white, his eyes practically glowing. He caught the look on my face, and the anger in him stuttered, like a candle flame in a draft.

  He took a deep breath and shook himself, like a wolf settling its fur. “Sorry. Bit of a touchy subject.”

  “Guess so.” I gave his arm kind of an awkward pat. I wasn’t good at these kinds of situations. People didn’t come to me for comfort, because I was absolutely awful at giving it. If more than a ‘buck up’ was required, you were on your own.

  After an awkward pause, Taliyah continued. “All this would imply that there might be another vampire in Haven Hollow. One who hasn’t presented themselves to the Council, or the local vampires.”

  What Taliyah wasn’t saying, was that coming unannounced and uninvited like that wasn’t just rude, it was against the rules that made a Hollow possible. The Hollows were meant to be safe, places where supernatural people could live in peace next to mundane neighbors, and not be followed by politics or problems from outside. But they only worked because of the rules.

  “Guess so.” I gave his arm kind of an awkward pat. I wasn’t good at these kinds of situations. People didn’t come to me for comfort, because I was absolutely awful at giving it. If more than a ‘buck up’ was required, you were on your own.

  After an awkward pause, Taliyah continued. “All this would imply that there might be another vampire in Haven Hollow. One who hasn’t presented themselves to the Council, or the local vampires.”

  What Taliyah wasn’t saying, was that coming unannounced and uninvited like that wasn’t just rude, it was against the rules that made a Hollow possible. The Hollows were meant to be safe, places where supernatural people could live in peace next to mundane neighbors, and not be followed by politics or problems from outside. But they only worked because of the rules.

  “Rupert,” Lorcan growled.

  “Rupert is dead,” I reminded him, and myself. Lorcan’s adopted Sire had hovered over our heads like the Sword of Damocles for so long that sometimes I couldn’t believe he was gone myself. But Maverick’s lightning had made sure of that. Even a vampire can’t survive that sort of thing.

  It was an odd feeling, being grateful to my cousin. Odd as in... I hated it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lorcan raked a hand back through his hair, until the blond locks stood up in spikes.

  “Rupert might be dead, but his people aren’t. If there was one thing that old bastard was good at, it was inspiring loyalty in his people. Whether it was deserved or not.”

  His words came out with a thicker brogue than I was used to, his agitation putting a burr into his voice.

  “So, do we think that someone from his group is here because they suspect Wanda isn’t really a…” Poppy darted a look around, like she was worried someone might have infiltrated us already. Eventually, she brought her hands up beside her mouth, pointing one finger down on either side in a way that I assumed was supposed to look like fangs.

  “Idiot,” Hellcat muttered.

  “It’s possible,” I said, ignoring the awful beast. “Though I don’t know why they would. I’ve been very careful about maintaining my lifestyle and as far as everyone in Haven Hollow knows, I’m fangy.”

  “Except today, when you rushed to my shop because I called you,” Imani said, sounding extremely guilty. She folded her arms like she was hugging herself. “What if they damaged the salon, so I’d lure you out to confirm their suspicions?”

  It was possible, I had to admit. But it didn’t fit with everything else that had gone on. Why the letters? Why the mannequin? It all just seemed so childish. And while Rupert and his lot were as stubborn as toddlers, ‘childish’ was not the way I would have described a group of vampires determined to see me dead.

  From upstairs came the sound of shattering wood and breaking glass. The sound was so loud I jumped, my heart leaping up into my throat.

  “What the spell was that?” I pressed my hand to my chest, like I could manually calm my pulse.

  Maverick was on his feet in an instant. “Sybil,” was all he said.

  And just like that, Lorcan was gone from beside me. My hair whipped around my face from the wind of his movement.

  The rest of us, more or less, stampeded for the stairs. Maverick won by virtue of the fact that his legs were a mile long, and Taliyah was in second place because she was one of those women who believed in cardio. I was right on Taliyah’s heels, with the rest of the coven coming up behind me. We sounded like a herd of horses thundering up the stairs.

  Maverick and Taliyah were already in Sybil’s room by the time I stumbled up to the landing of the second floor. I couldn’t catch my breath. My limbs felt rubbery, not quite wanting to work properly. But underneath the fear, was a low simmering rage. If anything happened to Sybil, if anyone as much as touched that child, I would burn the world down around them. My magic bucked, sparking in the air like it was desperate to be unchained. Even at the worst of my troubles when I’d first been blooded, it had never felt like this before.

  It should have worried me. But it actually felt good.

  That probably should have worried me more.

  “Wanda,” Lorcan said, ducking his head to make sure he met my eyes. “It’s not Sybil. She’s fine. Nothing happened to her.”

  It took a second for me to make sense of the words, but when I did, I sagged a little in his arms in relief. Not Sybil.

  “Then what the spell was that noise?”

  Lorcan grimaced and he rubbed his hands up and down my arms. “Ah, Sweetling. I’m sorry.”

  He jerked his head towards my barely touched bedroom, where the door was still cracked open. Apparently, Lorcan had used the advantage of his vampire speed to search the second floor.

  I strode across the floor and pushed the door open. I knew there was no one in the house that shouldn’t have been there, or Lorcan would have smelled them, so I wasn’t worried.

  But when the door opened, I froze.

  The room looked like a giant had picked it up, shaken it, and dumped it back upside down. My window was shattered, my vanity mirror was in pieces and all four slender legs had been snapped off. The sound we’d heard downstairs had probably been my bed being lifted and tossed, because it was tipped over, with sheets and blankets puddled on the carpet. My clothes had all been torn off the hangers in the closet and strewn all over, crumpled, ripped, and destroyed.

  The small amount of make-up I stored there had been dumped on the floor and ground into the carpet, and one of my favorite red lipsticks had been used to scrawl an enormous ‘LIAR’ across one wall.

  I stood there in shock, staring for a long moment, trying to understand how what was facing me was even possible. How had so much been destroyed so quickly? How had someone gotten in to do it? Was it a spell? A curse of entropy? We’d all been downstairs while someone did their best to annihilate my bedroom. How had they done it?

  Lorcan stepped up behind me, his hand hovering in the air like he wasn’t sure his touch would be welcome. Which was fair. I tended not to react well when someone touched me unexpectedly.

  Seeing him answered one question, at least. A vampire could have done this. The speed they possessed, one could have absolutely tossed my room while we all stood around in the main room. Lorcan had gotten up the stairs and checked each room for intruders before any of us had even hit the landing—that’s how fast he could move. And, furthermore, a vampire would also have had the strength to flip my things over as if they didn’t weigh a thing.

  Come to think of it, it hadn’t been just one thing smashing that I’d heard, but several things all blended together into a furious smudge of sound.