Katherine’s eyes fixed on Byron, but he kept his hand down, staring at her with a sly expression. The rest of the coven remained silent as well.
“Then the sentence will be carried out,” Sylvia said.
Sylvia cut into her palm, making an identical cut on Joe’s hand before joining their hands together. Power dampener spells were always completed publicly as a reminder to the coven of the consequences of breaking the rules, but Katherine knew there was another reason for Sylvia to do this here. Every witch’s power got stronger when they were around more people, their energy summoning magic to the surface. Given the power Sylvia had gotten from the ordinary the day before, this spell shouldn’t be an issue, but doing it in a crowd would be an extra help.
The rune glinted between them, and Joe let out a low grunt as the spell took effect. It wasn’t excruciatingly painful, but it was deeplyuncomfortable, a cleaving away of a fundamental piece of self. Katherine had had Sylvia do it on her once, shortly after being named Executrix—she wanted to understand the sentence she was carrying out, to feel it herself before she voted someone else into it. Sylvia was extremely resistant to the concept, having undergone the spell in her own youth for reasons she wouldn’t share. She had finally agreed to put the spell on Katherine just for a day, and it had been brutal, like slogging through a swamp. Katherine didn’t envy Joe a month of that.
By the time Sylvia’s spell finished, Joe had gone white as a sheet, swaying in his seat. A friend of his walked to the stage, putting his arm under Joe’s and leading him toward the back of the room. He’d need a day or two to sleep it off before he’d be able to go back to his normal activities.
“Well,” Sylvia said, moving back to her place at the dais. “That wraps up our official business for the night.” The crowd started to move, gathering their things, but then Sylvia rapped her knuckles on the dais.
“Oh, wait, I’m sorry,” she said. “One more thing.” The assembled witches started to sit back down, a few grumbles rolling through the audience. Katherine shifted in her seat—she didn’t know what this could be regarding, which wasn’t a good sign. Her palms broke into a cold sweat.
Sylvia looked at the coven seriously for a moment—then broke into a smile. “Happy Halloween, witches.”
Cheers of relief and excitement sounded from the assembled witches. Katherine clapped too, her face splitting into a grin.
Until the door swung open.
The man standing in the doorway certainly wasn’t Divakar. The room quieted as everyone turned to look at him—over six feet tall, his frame filling the entire space. Perfectly tailored black suit, sharp jawline, dark brown skin and black hair and ridiculously white teeth shining in a crooked smile. With a dimple.
That motherfucking dimple.
“Silas Khatri,” the man said, as if the sole offspring of the most powerful witches in the country needed any introduction. “I’m your new Noctis rep. Sorry I’m late.”
CHAPTER NINE
For the second time in two days, a man was taking Katherine’s seat.
They had moved to Sylvia’s office, and Silas had immediately sat in Katherine’s chair. He was even worse than the ordinary from the day before, manspreading his long legs into the space where Katherine’s spare chair was meant to go. She was inclined to drag it right over his feet, but after a glance from Sylvia—who was far too good at reading what Katherine was thinking—she took it around to the other side of the desk. He’d only been there for ten minutes, but Silas Khatri had already turned Katherine into an awkward third wheel.
Sylvia had ended the Aestas meeting after Silas’ grand entrance, but Katherine could still hear the faint chatter of lingering coven members filtering in from the dining room. Fiona and Tess had been tasked with clearing them all out. It was one thing to have a gaggle of people around for Divakar’s visit, the highlight of which would have been a staid speech about the importance of caster maintenance. It was another for them to see what looked like the start of a Noctis-sanctioned coup.
Which Katherine would get to bear witness to. She’d been all set to wait outside, exchange pleasantries with coven members as she pushed them out the door and tried to stave off a panic attack. But then Sylvia had asked her to join the meeting. It was out of her realm of duties as Executrix, which meant that Sylvia had asked her as a friend. An ally. Katherine did not take the responsibility lightly.
Sylvia leaned across her desk, her elegant fingers intertwining. “I’m sure you know, but since we’ve never been formally introduced, I’m Sylvia Page, head of Aestas, and this is Katherine Barnes, my Executrix. It’s very nice to meet you.”
Silas turned to Katherine, his hand outstretched. He wanted her to shake it, she realized, after a supremely awkward moment in which she stared at his inexplicably well-shaped fingernails and wondered if he got manicures. Katherine’s hands weren’t covered in dirt and calluses by any means, but Silas’ screamed privilege.
Katherine clasped his hand in her own. Of course his skin was that smooth. She’d never had cause to think of someone as feeling like velvet before, but it was apt. She managed to resist the urge to crush him in her grip, but she couldn’t resist giving him a smile that bordered on feral before letting go.
“It’s nice to meet both of you as well,” Silas said, annoyingly unfazed by what Katherine had been told was a very threatening expression. His voice reeked of money, measured and deep. He could have a very lucrative career in voiceovers, if he wanted. Film and TV too, with a face like that.
It wasn’t fair that a guy who was such a prick got to be so pretty.
“I apologize for showing up late,” Silas continued, grinning sheepishly. “I hate to admit it, but I actually got a bit lost. This neighborhood is very confusing.”
Katherine didn’t buy that for a second. Even if Silas hadn’t had magic, he had GPS. He showed up late because he wanted to make an entrance. To get people talking. To throw them off guard.
Sylvia, though, refused to be rattled, giving him a suitably charmed smile instead. “I’ve lived around here for thirty years and I still get lost myself.”
Silas let out a self-deprecating laugh, his wide shoulders shrugging. “Glad it’s not just me.”
“May I ask what happened to Divakar?” Sylvia said. “I’d been looking forward to catching up with him.” A blatant lie—after Divakar’s last visit, Sylvia had banned anyone from ever mentioning the topic of bird-watching again—but a good way to ask what the fuck Silaswas doing here without having to directly ask what the actualfuckSilas was doing here.
“He’s fine,” Silas said. “Retired to Hawaii two months ago. My parents chose to pass his duties with our fellow covens along to me.”
Katherine bit the inside of her cheek. Divakar was Noctis’ Bookkeeper, a decidedly nonthreatening position. Silas, on the other hand, was Noctis’ Executor. An Executor was meant to collect evidence of misdeeds, to capture, to punish. Katherine should know—she was one.
