Neva steps aside, allowing us to enter, and announces, “Right this way.”
She leads us through the foyer, which is extremely narrow yet somehow has a staircase stuffed along one of its walls, to the back of the house which opens into an enclosed veranda and eventually the back of the property. I stay silent while my aunt compliments the house interior. Neva doesn’t seem pleased by the praise. Might have something to do with the words “quaint” and “cozy” being thrown around—as well as mentioning that this house could fit in a single wing of the smallest Volkov summer home.
Considering the size of our current home, I doubt my aunt actually gives a crap about any of this. However, she does know how to play the role of rich snob very convincingly, spotlighting that Neva may be the big fish in the small pond that is Twin Cedar Pass, but out in the rest of the world, she’d be a bug crushed under Mildred’s very expensive stilettos. It makes me wonder what else my aunt has up her sleeve. She told me about how important our bloodline is, but she hasn’t really shared where she stands in the hierarchy of the family.
It looks like all of the adult members of the coven are gathered on the veranda, about twenty people or so, munching on tea sandwiches, vegetable platters, and French macaroons. Some greet us warmly, others not so much, but all of them take a moment to look at the book.
A slender woman with broader shoulders, handsome face, and the most beautiful chestnut hair I’ve ever seen grins when she eyeballs what my aunt carries. I recognize her as one of Mei’s mothers from the blood ritual in the forest.
Enthusiastically, she asks, “Is thattheVolkov grimoire?”
Mildred smiles indulgently and answers, “One of them. When there are thousands of years worth of spells to record, several volumes are required.”
“Hot damn,” she replies, then shifts her gaze to Neva who looks like she’s going to chip a tooth from gritting her teeth so hard. “Can we wrap up the meeting early? I’d love to get a chance to peek through a few pages.” Her attention shifts back to my aunt. “If you don’t mind, Mildred.”
“I don’t mind at all,” my aunt responds, her smile bright and pleasant.
Even the witches that didn’t seem too fond of us earlier are nodding their heads, equally eager to get a look at one of our family grimoires.
“It will take as long as it takes,” Neva answers stubbornly, weaving through the chairs and couches to what looks like the front of the group.
There is a wave of disappointed sighs.
Like a total boss, Mildred dips her head in farewell and states, “I have young minds to teach. Enjoy your meeting.”
I gape at my aunt as we walk through the all glass door, down yet more damn stairs, and toward an open tent that appears to have been set up in case of rain.
“Where did all that come from?” I whisper in her ear. “Is that what they mean by ‘kill them with kindness?’”
She stops before we reach the tent, her smile nothing but smug, and answers, “That is a reminder that by threatening me, she plays with fire. As far as the Council is aware, I’m here to evaluate the effectiveness of this mixed community. I told Neva it was to see if what is done here can be applied in other areas. What she appears to be too blind to see is that I can deem this experiment a failure and absorb all of Twin Cedar Pass as part of the Volkov Coven’s territory.”
“You can?” I say a little too loudly, then whisper, “Why haven’t you?”
The smugness falls from her face, now looking a mixture of sad and tired. “Because I don’t want it. Because a lot of good witches originally made this something beautiful. It’s a haven for all supernaturals, and I don’t want one egotistical, spoiled witch to ruin it all.”
My eyes dip to the vibrant green grass under my feet. Hesitantly, I echo, “Youdon’t want it?”
Mildred rests the giant book on her hip so she can run a hand down my hair. “Correct.Idon’t want it,” she sighs. “As the matriarch of the Volkov family, Twin Cedar Pass would be yet another territory I’d be responsible for.”
My mind goes blank for a second as I absorb what she’s saying, then my gaze slowly rises to meet hers. She looks at me with love and kind understanding.
In a quivering voice, I begin, “When you said I was going to be the future matriarch, you meant I’d be replacing—”
“Me,” she finishes gently, pulling me to her side in a one arm hug. “But that won’t be for a long while, my darling.” She kisses my temple. “I promise to explain more when we have time, but right now, it’s time for magic lessons.”
I nod in a jerky up and down motion, like a robot who needs repairs, and quietly follow her into the white tent. As a descendant of one of the original seven bloodlines, I knew my aunt was powerful. I figured she was likely high up in the food chain, considering, as her niece, I’m one of the heirs to the Volkov fortunes. But thematriarch?I may not know much about the inner workings of witch politics and what not, but even I know that’s a big fucking deal.
Being a little light-headed, I’m relieved to see Mei waving at me when I enter the tent, her arm swaying in huge arcs above her head. The area is filled with several long, white tables lined up in two rows, with stools placed behind them, facing toward a smaller table at the front. While Mildred heads toward the front of the class, I make my way over to Mei, hunching my shoulders and ignoring the wave of silence that follows me, conversations dying instantly as they watch me walk by. Turns out Witch Sunday School is a lot like normal school, except I now know the faces of the guys and girls that are secretly witches like me. Well, notexactlylike me.
Don’t blow up any trees. Or light them on fire. Or any other weird shit I’m capable of.
Slipping off my backpack, I take the stool next to Mei, noticing there is a bowl of water and a box of feathers on the table before me. Mei has various potted plants, packages of seeds, and just a bowl of plain dirt in front of her.
“I was told you were strong in both water and air, so I grabbed the stuff for you when I got here,” Mei says by way of explanation, spinning toward me on the stool. “Hope that’s cool. Oh and hi. Welcome to magic class.”
“Hi,” I reply with a chuckle, while digging into my bag for a notebook and pencil. “And thanks.”
“No prob,” she chirps, pulling her straight black hair up on top of her head then twisting it into a messy bun. Eyeballing my notebook, she adds, “That’s really smart. Doing your notes on normal paper then transferring the important stuff to your grimoire. You should see some of the hot messes around here. So much crap crossed out, it’s a wonder some of these guys don’t blow a foot off. Hey, as a water witch, you could magic it back on! Handy.”
