It was.
“Are you safe?” William asked as soon as I answered the phone. Cirrian sank into a corner as if attempting to fade from notice. He couldn’t be ignored. Everything from his face, his mien, aura of magic, and presence touted his existence.
“Yes.”
“Is he still there?”
At my glance in his direction, he raised his finger to smirked lips.
Yes, Mr. Death is still here.
“No. And Rachel should be here soon. Once she discovers the curser, I’ll get it removed.”
“The ring is still working?”
“The curse is halted.”
Cirrian was amused by my lie of omission. There were a lot of those between me and William, but this one bothered me.
The doorbell rang, followed by urgent pounding. I quickly ended the call with a promise to keep William updated.
“Remember, I’m not here,” Cirrian reminded me. His brows furrowed. “There’s a substantial amount of power heading your way. Takara Bennett, you may succeed after all.”
Good, then he could leave, and I could focus on finding a way out of my oath and learning more about ashinwas.
Between Vina predicting that Amelia would regret saving my life and Cirrian’s comments about the vampires wanting me dead if they knew of my abilities, I was increasingly curious about and fearful of my magic.
6
Opening the door, I noticed that the bonding mark on my arm had disappeared, although its presence lingered. It was an undeniable magical albatross. Rachel and five other witches from her coven stormed past me with purpose and palpable anger, lifting my spirits instantly and renewing my flailing optimism. Witches held a special contempt for those who cast curses, and someone who cursed another witch would be persona non grata—at best. Likely considered an enemy that needed to be handled in the most ruthless way. They’d probably try to get to the assailant before I could. Whereas I’d initially try a peaceful option, that was likely not to be their first choice.
Rachel, carrying a large tote, led the group of witches to the guest room without me directing her. I was grateful that in their haste, they missed the setup for the shadow god and the sigils on the living room floor.
It was surprising to find Cirrian still in the room. Rachel and the others walked past him without acknowledging his presence. A presence I thought was impossible to ignore. They were dividing their attention and duties between setting up and eyeing Amelia occasionally. Curiosity getting the best of Rachel,she stopped to examine the ring and the markings from the curse.
“What type of magic is this? It feels powerful and like nothing I’ve experienced before,” she said. All six witches surrounded the ring, examining it and the lines of the curse on Amelia’s skin.
There should have been more questions than that. But they were fixated on the ring and made no mention of the markings made by the pompous shadow god. I thought the tick lines would dominate their line of questioning.
The markings from my oath-binding had disappeared, they were ignoring Cirrian, and they had no questions about the spell that had really paused Amelia’s curse.
They can’t see him or feel his magic.I looked to him for confirmation. His impish expression was as good as any.
The kinborn witches didn’t want their role in trapping the shadow god known. Cirrian had already detected the magic, and there was no way Rachel would mistake it for any of the magic she’d encountered. Lying about their magic could prove counterproductive. I hoped the trio understand the predicament I was in.
“It’s kinborn magic,” I admitted.
All eyes turned to me.
“You know kinborn witches?” Madoc asked, his excitement leading him to abandon the candles he was setting up. I knew the witches in the room by their faces, but he and his sister Mave were the only two names I remembered with certainty. I was fascinated by how the features of fraternal twins of different genders mirrored each other so much. Mave’s auburn hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail whereas Madoc’s style was more chaotic and a few shades lighter. Amelia said it was indicative of his personality. Both sets of bright gray eyes had widened on me. Moving in an oddly similar way, the twins would haveappeared choreographed if done by anyone else. They’d landed on Amelia’s creepy supernatural list. I couldn’t agree more.
Their peculiar, overly analogous appearance was off-putting, from their sharp, narrow noses, wide mouths fixed in resting pouts, the birthmark under each of their right eyes, and their long-limbed physique. I’d placed Mave at five ten, her brother a few inches taller.
The twins rattled off a series of questions about kinborn witches that I evaded the best I could. Rachel cleared her throat, prompting them to return to their tasks, and accepted my grateful nod with a wink.
“You’ll introduce us?” Madoc asked, pulling out a symbol-etched engraver. Magic pulsed from it like a heartbeat.
My fealties were being pulled in all directions. I didn’t get the impression the kinborn witches were open to introductions or had a desire to deal with other witches who didn’t share their type of magic. Nor did I want to compromise William’s relationship with them or my future dealings with them by overstepping their boundaries.
