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The woman’s announcement caused a surge for the refreshments, and Eric took Christina’s arm and led her to a folding chair in the back row. They took the seats on the end of the row, and Nigel sat in front of them.
“Do you know what to expect?”
Christina shook her head, her wild hair cascading around her face. “I have no idea. I doubt if my father or Vivi ever attended anything like this.”
“Do you think they’ll talk about the murders?”
“I can’t imagine they know much. If they had an idea members of a particular coven were being targeted, don’t you think they would’ve gone to the police?”
He swiveled his head around. “This bunch? I’m guessing they have an innate distrust of authority, and wouldn’t be too anxious to hold themselves up to ridicule.”
“Maybe you’re right.” She tapped his thigh. “Let’s listen.”
After forty-five minutes of mind-numbing bylaws and politics, Christina jabbed Eric in the side with her elbow and rolled her eyes. “This is boring. When does the spell casting start?”
“I think this may be all they do. Uh-oh.” He jerked his head forward and to the right. “Isn’t that Darius Cole, Vivi’s friend? If he sees us, he might rat us out.”
She slumped in her chair and peered between some heads and shoulders. “I can’t tell if it’s him or not. I’ll make sure to stay out of his way as I grab another one of those brownies. I have to keep awake somehow.”
At that moment the Witch of the West made an announcement. “We’ll take a fifteen-minute break. Bathrooms are available and there are plenty of refreshments and hot coffee.”
Christina jumped from her hard seat and squeezed past Eric’s knees. “You see, she does read minds.”
She shuffled up to the table and ducked between two men to grab her brownie.
“Those are yummy, aren’t they?”
She turned with her mouth full to face the speaker. Chewing, she pointed to her mouth and made noises. She swallowed and licked the sweet frosting from her lips. “Sorry. Yes, those are the best. Did you make them?”
“Goodness, no. I bring the coffee.” The young woman’s gaze had strayed to Christina’s tattoo. She tilted up her chin. “You belong to that coven from down south, the one with its roots in Latin America.”
“You know what they say.” Christina traced the henna tattoo with her fingertip. “You don’t pick the coven, the coven picks you.”
“For some it works that way, but a lot of people are just posers.” She sliced her arm through the air, taking in half the hall.
“Are you?” Christina offered her hand. “I’m Christina, by the way.”
The woman took her hand in a limp grip. “I’m Uma, and I wouldn’t say I’m a poser, but I’m not the real deal. Are you the real deal?”
“Yes.” Christina raised her chin. “It’s in my blood.”
Uma looked to the left and then her right before taking a few steps closer to Christina and invading her personal space with her musky scent. “That might not be a good thing to brag about right now.”
Christina’s heart thumped so hard, she feared it would cause the chains around her neck to jingle. “Because of those murders?”
Pressing three fingertips against her lips, Uma nodded, her light-colored eyes wide.
“Who is it? Who’s going after my coven?”
Uma dropped her hand and raised her voice. “I’m going to beat you to that last brownie.”
Christina jerked her head up to find that several groups of people had clustered around the table, chatting in low voices. Had she and Uma been overhead? Did it matter?
If this was a real meeting of the Bay Area covens, they should be talking openly about the threat—unless the threat was here, under this roof.
All of a sudden, the sweetness of the cream cheese frosting soured in her mouth and she reached for a foam cup and filled it with black coffee. She’d need it to stay awake. Who knew witches could be so boring?
She slurped a few sips of the hot beverage as the clutches of people began to break up. Some had heard enough and headed for the exits, while others ambled back to their seats.
Uma ducked in front of her and tossed a napkin into the trash. “If you’re drinking coffee, you’d better hit the bathroom before Elaine starts up again. She frowns upon people walking out on her.”
“Just as long as she doesn’t turn me into a frog.” Christina smiled and raised her cup.
Uma didn’t appreciate her attempt at humor and frowned. “The bathrooms are out back, across the quad.”
