This particular misfit, Charmin Depraysie, otherwise known as Maverick, had done his best to make my life miserable, despite professing to care about me. Not so long ago I’d have hexed him so hard, he’d be feeling it into his next life, and now here I was—ready to offer him what he’d been after all along.

  The goddess had a sick sense of humor.

  Dawn found me parked outside of a split level on the outskirts of Riverport. I supposed it made sense the rat-bastard would have settled here. It was the closest town to Haven Hollow he could find. He wasn’t welcome in Portland, and I’d banned him from the Hollow. It rankled something fierce that I was even considering what I was about to do, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. If I was going to face down Mother, I needed more firepower. And, whether I liked it or not, my cousin was powerful.

  “Oh, how low the mighty have fallen...” I grumbled, mounting the stairs two at a time. I had to get this errand over with quickly before I decided to change my mind. Well, not only that, but the assembly was due to begin in a week’s time, and I had a spell to prepare, no matter how this turned out.

  I rapped on the door harder than necessary and waited.

  And waited.

  And waited some more.

  No one came to the door, even when I knocked again. Maverick’s Tesla was in the driveway, so either he was sleeping off a bender or he was deliberately ignoring me. I was putting my money on the latter.

  A gentle spit of rain started and as I glanced up into the dark gray sky, I imagined we were soon in for more.

  The door swung open just as I turned to go, mumbling obscenities under my breath. When I turned around, though, I didn’t find my tall, dark, and brooding cousin standing in the doorway. Instead, it was a woman.

  A full-figured, long-haired brunette wearing nothing but a sheet. The remnants of last night’s smoky eye had smeared down to her cheek, as had her ruby-red lipstick. Her hair was mussed, and she had a line of purple love bites trailing down one side of her neck.

  I’d had enough wild nights to recognize a post-hookup when I saw one. I wasn’t going to sneer at her for it. Sex was a normal part of life, and she’d gone after what she wanted. With regards to the person she’d chosen? Well, there’s no accounting for taste but...

  “Is Maverick home?” I asked.

  It was easier than I’d have dreamed to keep my tone level. Talking to someone other than Maverick first thing in the morning was refreshing.

  Apparently, Maverick’s bedmate didn’t feel the same way.

  Her gaze swept from the crown of my head down to my Louboutin heels, eyes narrowing in dislike, and I suspected I knew why. The woman was shorter, her features were softer, but there were still striking similarities between the two of us. My cousin definitely had a type. Well, truthfully, I was his type, and this woman was the copy.

  I had to fight to keep the disgust off my face when the implications of that really sank in. Did Maverick picture me when he took these women to bed? Was he so smitten with me that he couldn’t find a casual partner without comparing her to me? That seemed just... sad.

  Disturbing and sad.

  “Who’s asking?” she asked, tone caustic. Maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe she was his girlfriend, not a hookup. I doubted it though, given she was a mundane woman but...

  I forced a smile, offering her a hand. “I’m Wanda Depraysie, his cousin.”

  She didn't take the hand, but the antagonism deepened, along with a sense of confusion. “His cousin?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And it’s gross.”

  I furrowed my brows at her. “And why is that?”

  “Because he kept calling me Wanda all night!”

  “Yes, that is gross,” I had to agree, but then pushed my way past her and into Maverick’s living room.

  I wasn’t sure if I should sit.

  There was no telling what surface (or surfaces) they’d christened. Just because I didn’t judge this me-look-alike for her zesty appetites didn’t mean I wanted to come into contact with the evidence, either.

  “He’s in the shower,” the woman pointed out.

  “That’s fine,” I answered, and gave her a placid smile. “I can wait.”

  The place was untidy, but not the avalanche of dirty laundry and stale leftovers I’d encountered at bachelor pads in recent years. The TV, lamps, and end tables needed to arrange a date with a feather duster, and the windows were a little dingy, but everything else seemed in order. The kitchen was cleaner than the front room. This was probably Maverick’s brewing station, judging from the collection of potions ingredients tucked discreetly behind a spice rack.

  It was then that I realized the woman had disappeared down the hall and I had the living room to myself. I decided the kitchen chairs were probably safe from contamination and settled in to wait. I didn’t have to wait long. The woman reappeared a minute later, dressed this time, and booked it out the front door.

  Maverick appeared in the hallway only a minute later, dressed in his usual black, and towel drying his almost waist-length hair. The sight was oddly endearing. I’d never seen Maverick do something so... ordinary since childhood. He’d been odd, even then, but not bitter. He stopped short when he spotted me sitting at his table.

  He raised an eyebrow. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  I smirked. “Well, hello to you too, cousin mine.”

  “I’m not interested in pleasantries,” he said, starting across the kitchen for the coffee maker.

  “I heard you were calling my name in the bedroom—I’m flattered.” I gave him another faux smile, and he was more than aware I was just rubbing salt into a wound that had been festering for too long. Yes, it was probably dumb, considering I was here to get him to agree to joining my coven, but sometimes you just can’t help yourself.

  “What do you want?”

  He draped the towel over one shoulder and threaded his fingers through his hair as he began to braid it.

  “I have a… proposition for you.”

  He gave me a long, speculative look as he crossed over to his cabinets, selecting a mug. I belatedly realized we were alone now, with no one to step in if things got nasty. My cousin was many things, but above all he was a warlock and, as I mentioned, he was a powerful one.

  We’d dueled once, and the only reason I’d won was owing to my Blood Witch abilities, which had given me an edge. Thus, we were essentially on equal footing. I’d grown more powerful in the year since, but then, Maverick could have as well. That was the scary thing about warlocks. They were unpredictable, and he was still a relatively young man. His magic would only grow more potent as he aged.

  “I’m listening.”

  “I’ll take a cup of coffee before I start,” I answered, suddenly feeling as though I needed just that and pronto.

  “I don’t recall offering you a cup of coffee.”

  “Oh, come off it, Maverick, we’re blood.”

  “Yet you can’t stand me,” he answered, and gave me an elevated brow.

  “And do you really blame me?” I asked, frowning up at him. “You tried to gaslight me into thinking I’d lost my magic, tricked your sister into dosing my drink with a mind-altering potion, and tried to steal my body. So yes, I’d say I have plenty of reasons to dislike you.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Coffee first, explanations second.”

  He frowned, but once the coffee beeped that it was ready, he poured out two mugs and handed one of them over.

  “I don’t have cream or sugar.”

  “Ah, you take your coffee just like your personality—dark and bitter.”

  He chuckled at that. “Going back to your long list of reasons you have to dislike me—trying to steal your body was necessary.”

  “Was it?” I snapped. “Because from where I was sitting, it was terrifying. I woke up in a man’s body, miles from home, and I had no idea what happened.”

  “Exactly. You ended up in a man’s body. You woke up a warlock.”

  “Your point?” I asked, frowning.

  “Imagine living that same life every day, knowing everyone hates you because you didn’t have the grace to be born a girl. If I’d been a witch, I’d still have a family, and a coven to rely on.”

  “True.”

  “My mother wouldn’t have kicked me out the second I showed aptitude. If I’d been a girl, she would have loved me.”

  His voice cracked on the word ‘loved’ and he hung his head, refusing to look at me.

  A mixture of guilt and pity twisted like a knife just beneath my ribs. For the first time, I realized just how alone Maverick really was. He was the first warlock in seven hundred years. He’d been largely self-taught, unable to rely on the coven for support. And he was still one of the most powerful magic users I’d ever known. If he’d been a witch, he’d have been regarded highly. But he wasn’t a witch, and there was nothing he could do to change that.

  “Oh, get over it, Maverick,” I said, waving away his emotional moment with an unconcerned hand. It wasn’t that I was trying to be a bitch, it just came naturally. “Your mother did you a favor.”

  “Oh, and how is that?”

  “The Crescent Coven is a bunch of backstabbing assholes, that’s why. You’re lucky you’re not a member.”

  “Says the person who was kicked out.”

  “Ugh,” I grumbled, shaking my head. “Look, I’m sorry you’ve had a tough go, I’m sorry your mother doesn’t like you, I’m sorry you’re bitter and hateful. But, at some point, you need to get over it.”

  He chuckled. “Thanks for the pep talk. You know, you could give Tony Robbins a run for his money.”

  “Maybe you’d be a different person if you’d been given support growing up,” I said on a sigh. “Or maybe you’d still be a dickhead. Guess we’ll never know.”

  Maverick shook his head slowly. “Okay, you’ve got your coffee. Now tell me the reason you’re here, because I can’t imagine it’s to berate me for simply existing.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  I set my coffee aside and stood. He actually took a step away from me, as though I might grow claws or fangs and maul him. His entire body spasmed when I reached out and touched his arm.

  “Even though I can’t stand you, I’m here to offer something you’ve been pining for.”

  A small smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “You… in my bed?”

  I dropped my hold of his arm and frowned. “Don’t ruin this by being disgusting.”

  “Go on.”

  “I’m offering you a place in my coven.”

  “Your coven?” he repeated, appearing completely unsurprised by my offer. “Since when do you have a coven?”

  “A lot has happened since you left the Hollow,” I answered on a shrug. “And I haven’t formed my coven yet.”

  “Hard to form a coven when it’s just you and Astrid.” He chuckled. “Or is Hellcat in it as well?”

  “Ha ha, very funny.” I glared at him. “For your information, there are two new witches in town, which means we finally have the numbers we need to start one.” He seemed surprised at that but didn’t comment. “I wanted to hold off, but something’s happened that’s sort of forcing my hand.”

  “Something as in Aunt Celestine?”

  “Among other things. Scarlett Velardi sent a summons to the High Witch of Haven Hollow, inviting her coven to attend an assembly.”

  “But there is no coven of Haven Hollow and there is no High Witch.”

  “Right. It was Scarlett’s way of telling me to form one.”

  “Why would she want you to do that?”

  I faced him and frowned. “Think about it. Who does Scarlett despise more than anyone in the world?”

  “Your mother?”

  “Bingo.” I took a deep breath. “If we attend, though, we would have to make a show of strength. And with a coven of four witches, that’s easier said than done.”

  “Ah, so that’s where I come in.”

  I nodded and exhaled. “Whether I like it or not, you’re as strong as any witch.”

  “Stronger, actually.”

  I frowned at him—his opinion of himself was overinflated and then some. “The point is this: do you want to stay here, mope, and feel sorry for yourself for the rest of your life, or do you want to show your mother up and the whole Crescent Circle Coven at Scarlett’s assembly?”

  Maverick sipped his coffee and appeared deep in thought. He finally asked, “If I agree to join your coven, would that mean I can move back to the Hollow?”

  “On three conditions.”

  “Which are?”

  “One, you have to make up with your sister and actually become a good brother to her. Two, you work in my shop until you earn every cent you tried to steal from me, and three, you’ll promise to stop being such a bastard, in general.”

  Maverick’s eyes gleamed with surprised laughter. “You’re sexy when you’re domineering, High Witch Wandellmellia.”

  I frowned at him. “Is that a yes?”

  He set the mug aside and hesitated, arms extended like he might hug me. The gesture looked painfully awkward, and he aborted the attempt halfway through, passing it off by crossing his arms across his chest. It was for the best, really, as he was quite off-putting.

  “That’s a yes, cousin mine.”

  “One more condition… No more flirting with me, and no more lusting after me. Got it?”

  He gave me one last wistful look before nodding. “I’ll do my best.”

  I nodded. “And, of course, I’m not just taking your word as your bond. I’ll write all of this out in a contract and I expect you to sign it.”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. I’m glad that’s settled. Now let’s get going. I have a spell to prepare.”

  Chapter Four

  “What is he doing here?” Astrid demanded.

  She was sitting cross-legged in one of the wingback chairs in our living room when I arrived, chatting with Lorcan, Olga, Poppy and Betanya. When Astrid’s gaze zeroed in on her brother’s position at my side, her eyes narrowed. She folded her arms sullenly across her chest, and I almost laughed when Lorcan did the same.

  And the only reason Lorcan was even able to be up in the daylight was owing to the fact that it was a cold April day in Oregon and the cloud-cover was complete. That and we’d drawn every blackout curtain closed in the house.

  “Seconded,” Lorcan said, scowling at Maverick. “What is that rapscallion doing back in Haven Hollow? I thought the conditions laid down in the duel kept him out.”

  “I’ve allowed Maverick re-entry because he’ll be joining my coven, which I plan to form before midnight tonight. Unless there are any objections?”

  “I object,” Hellcat offered. “That is not a witch,” he finished, holding his paw up to point at Maverick.

  “No one asked you,” I answered as I glanced at each of the room’s occupants in turn.

  “Yep, that ain’t no witch,” Charlie Ray added. “Summa bitch.”

  Astrid’s mouth was still hanging open as if she were trying to impersonate a trout. Olga and Poppy seemed unfazed. With her second sight, Olga had probably seen this one coming and hadn’t warned the others for the sheer entertainment factor alone.

  It was Betanya I turned to last. At first glance, she looked like she could have been Astrid’s mother. Astrid’s red hair had more golds and oranges than Betanya’s, but there was something in their aspect that was very similar. That unorthodox strength that lent their faces a sly, almost mischievous quality. Betanya’s eyes were solemn, but she otherwise betrayed nothing.

  “Well, I most certainly object,” Lorcan said as he gave Maverick an expression that did nothing to hide his true feelings on the subject.

  “No one asked you,” I answered.

  “Did you not just ask if anyone objected?” he argued.

  I plopped my hands on my hips. “I meant… anyone else.”

  Maverick shoved his large, long-fingered hands into his coat pockets and glowered at the floor instead of the vampire. Any other day he’d have flung a hex at Lorcan, smacking him right in the kisser with something unpleasant like boils or leprosy. Glaring at the floor and being generally unpleasant was his way of behaving himself. Lorcan wouldn’t appreciate the gesture, but Maverick occupying his hands the way he was was tantamount to sheathing a sword. The internal struggle was real and almost painful to watch.

  “And do not forget… it was at this bastard’s hands that you were turned into a man!” Lorcan continued.

  “How could I forget,” I grumbled, running my hands down my body as if to assure myself that every dip and luscious curve was still in place. “I especially hated the part where Astrid kneed me in the balls.”

  Maverick let out a short, surprised laugh. “She what?”

  Astrid sank lower in her chair, color rising in her cheeks as she cradled Yule’s big head. “Wanda was in your body, and I was pissed. I didn’t realize… it was Wanda… so, yeah, I kicked her in the nuts.”

  Poppy giggled at that until I gave her a well-meaning glare, to which she shrugged.

  “What? It was funny!”

  “I’m glad all of you can laugh about it because it wasn’t fun for me,” I responded. “Though being felt up by Darla was a close second in terms of things I never want to experience again,” I continued with a shudder as I remembered the specifics. “Anyway,” I clapped my hands together. “We need to get this conversation back on topic.”

  “Ya, ve need to discuss zee Sub Rosa Zanctuary assembly,” Olga said as Franz danced around her, doing somersaults and otherwise appearing as though his wits had completely departed.

  Lorcan raised a hand and waved it around, like he thought he was back in elementary school.

  “What, Lorcan?” I snapped.

  “Forgive me, my dear, but I’m not exactly privy to the private world of witches.” Then he gave me a certain look when he said the word ‘private’ and I felt my insides heat up.

  “Gross, Lorcan,” Astrid called out.

  Just then, there was a knock on the door and before I could say ‘boo’, the door opened and Libby popped her head in. A second later, Darla’s head appeared beneath Libby’s, both of them looking at me with the dumb expressions of a Labrador Retriever.