Page 85 of The Witch’s Daughter

Calla gave me a bored thumbs-up.

The evening air was chillier than it had been, probably because I was wearing a dress. I was glad I hadn’t gone with Dad’s choice of the white one, choosing my little black number instead. It made me feel more femininely powerful, and coupled with my actual power returning, I walked like the badass wolf-witch I was.

You better hope that’s true tonight.

Ye of little faith.

I was glad of my clothing choice when I saw the intimate dining setup. Inside what I assumed was Vincent’s tent, going by the smell since there were no personal effects decorating the place, was a table set for two. Gold plates and goblets set atop a black cloth, with a short golden candelabra in the center.

This looks like a date date.

I think it is one. My nerves threatened to get the better of me as the warlock left, leaving me alone. The silence was deafening as I debated on whether to sit or keep standing. And I realized that was his plan. To keep me on edge, reminding me he held the power.

“Tisiphone,” Vincent drawled my name when he came into the tent. His eyes roamed up and down my body before settling on my face. “You look beautiful. How is our Seer doing?” He moved to pull out a chair.

I didn’t like the way he said my name, or him calling me beautiful, but I figured being rude would be a dead giveaway that I was onto his charade.

“She’s feeling much better.” I smiled sweetly, taking the offered chair. “I hope you don’t mind, but I brought her and her wolves to my tent to recover.”

Vincent pushed in my chair, but he stayed behind me for a moment longer. “That’s kind of you, especially for someone you don’t know that well.”

I wished he wasn’t behind me. Wolves hated giving their enemies their backs. But I didn’t let his attempt to display dominance make me falter.

“I don’t know anyone else here.” I kept my chin raised, looking straight ahead. “She’s probably the closest thing I have to a friend in this entire camp.”

“We can’t have that.” Vincent trailed his fingers over the exposed top of my shoulder and down my arm, leaving goosebumps—and not the good kind—in his wake.

I had to remind my wolf not to growl as he kept walking, finally taking the seat across the table from me.

“We’ll have to introduce you to more people soon,” he said.

I was about to bring up Sarah, but then thought better of it. Besides the grumpy warlocks I’d met, she was the only one who’d talked to me. But even she seemed wary about it.

I had to assume that was Vincent’s doing.

“So…” I started, watching as he uncorked the wine. “Thanks for the unexpected head trip, I guess.”

He smirked as he poured me a glass. “My guards say you left in record time, and you don’t look half mad, so I assume it was a good one.”

If he was having me watched, did he know I’d spoken with Sarah? Or was she the one to tell him my whereabouts?

I discreetly sniffed the wine before I took a sip, making sure it wasn’t poisoned either.

“Well?” He leaned back in his chair and watched me.

“The wine is good,” I said.

He chuckled, as if I were a silly pup. “I was wondering if you figured out the reason your magic faded and returned.”

“I might have an idea,” I gave him a half-truth. “But I need to test some things out before I know for sure.”

“Wonderful.” He clapped his hands together. “If there is anything I can do to help in the meantime, let me know.”

No. Thank. You.

Our conversation was interrupted when a witch came in with a serving tray. I tried to meet her eyes, but she looked away. And the long sleeves on her arms hid them from view.

The smell of roast lamb and turnips had my stomach growling. These witches and warlocks didn’t eat as much as wolf shifters were known to do. Or I wasn’t hitting the chow hall at the right hours. Either way, I hadn’t had meat in days.