“Thank you for the treat.”
“Of course. And when this whole Celestial Coven nonsense is behind us”—Chanelle gestured to the unconscious Winston tied down in the nearby room—“we’ll have to do a couple’s date night.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, minus the kids. You’ll need a babysitter.” Chanelle chuckled. “I can work with them, but I don’t care to entertain small minds in off hours.”
“Ben’s smarter than most of Cerberus’ clients.”
“Careful,” Chanelle said with a sultry smirk. “You sound like a protective papa bear.”
“I’m literally just stating a fact.” I scoffed. “Benjiman’s test scores are—”
“Yes, mommy dearest. Your angel is the best and brightest little one in all the heavens.” Chanelle swaggered out of the room, waving a dramatic goodbye. “Ta-ta, love.”
I went back to work, scouring Winston’s memories and taking notes on the members of the Celestial Coven. Having finally unlocked full access to his memories and organized them enough to make use of them made this work much easier. As suspected, the Celestial Coven kept a member for each branch. However, they only ever kept one witch per branch at a time, which meant they’d never have more than twelve members in their coven.
A good sign for us. Since I’d removed The Sisters Three—and they hadn’t replaced the psychic branch according to Winston—and two other pillars of the Celestial Coven were detained, Grim and Lazarus, that knocked their ranks down. Plus, we held Winston Cobalt in custody, too, leaving the Celestial Coven at eight witches in total. Excluding Theodore Whitlock, who they forced to do their bidding. And honestly, that made him the biggest threat. They’d fill their ranks with demons—vampires in particular, which would leave Chicago vulnerable.
I took meticulous notes on the names and branches of the other Celestial Coven members, intending to relay all Winston had on them to the Global Guild. It would make bringing them down much easier if we knew what to expect from their magic. Their powers were rarities, and it was no wonder The True Witch recruited them. I recalled the bone staff she wielded, filled with enchanted gems housing the branch magics of all their formerfallen coven members. A powerful weapon that possessed so many rare magics before I destroyed it.
In the distance, something glimmered. I turned to find an antique mirror floating through the abyss of Winston’s memories. Strange. Nothing had remained intact. Everything from his treasured thoughts to his most fleeting fantasies required my restoration.
“Hello, Dorian Frost.” The True Witch materialized in the mirror, dressed the same as the last time I’d seen her, in a low-cut black dress that revealed her many enchantment tattoos. She tipped her witch’s hat just enough to reveal her haunting green eyes.
“Finally showing yourself.” I approached the mirror. “Afraid I’ll learn something about you?”
“You assume this puppet knows anything about me.” The True Witch sprang forward, hands pressed against the mirror, and spoke in her phony French accent—a delicate dialect she’d mastered centuries ago to hide her real origins. “You won’t learn my story rooting through this mind.”
“I’ve already heard pieces from your dead psychics,” I replied. “Lies, I’m sure.”
“They were never one to distort my tale.”
“Yes, but I’m sure you spoon-fed them fabrications for centuries.” My nostrils flared, holding back the fury I held for Amara.
“I’m many things, a liar is not one.”
“Said every single liar in the history of time.” I stepped toward the mirror. “I’m going to end you. Just as easily as I have your coven members who’ve crossed me.”
Amara stared, lost in astonishment, then burst into laughter.
“Did you honestly believe I allowed one of mine to be captured?” She spoke as if we hadn’t rightfully taken Grim and Lazarus from her already. As if I hadn’t slain The Sisters Three. “Winston was a pawn. Vital in some respects, but mostly just a sacrificial lamb to help clear the board of a tricky knight.”
“Meaning?”
“Your telepathy is profound, I’ll grant you that.” Amara smirked. “But with you occupied, I can cleanse this city and retrieve the goddess.”
“Your daughter.” I glared. “You think Tara would want you to harm her home? Her city?”
“A goddess must not be distracted by mortal connections. And quite frankly, the Global Guild and your pest of a clairvoyant need to learn that when you cross the Celestial Coven, we leave nothing but ashes in our wake.”
“Enough of this.” I reached out psychically, preparing to drag as much of her mind through this mirror trap of hers as I could. I’d shatter her mind and this trap into a thousand pieces.
“Break the glass,” she whispered. “It was my plan all along, darling.”
With that, she blew a kiss. The smooch cracked the glass, each sliver spread like a lake of ice, and suddenly, I found myself plummeting. As I fell deeper into Winston’s mind, the glass exploded above, shards glowing with sigils containing psychic traps.
“Don’t worry. I know not to underestimate you like before,” Amara called out, unleashing a dozen black chains to pin me down and hold me in place.
