Page 49 of A Curse in Darkness

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

The smile lost some of its polish. “I ah…have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

“I worked that part out for myself, Clay.”

He glanced around us. “This isn’t really the place. Will you come to the house tomorrow?”

“What’s this about?”

He looked up, and I followed his gaze. An older woman stood on the balcony edging the ballroom, and she was watching us. His mother, the formidable Olive Whitlock. He looked back down at me. “It’s a…delicate matter.”

I had no idea what this could be about. I didn’t even know the guy anymore, not really. But finding out could be in my best interest, especially if his mother was involved. “Fine, text me your address and I’ll try. But I can’t guarantee anything.”

His relief was obvious. “I’d appreciate that.”

I glanced over his shoulder and Warrick was still on the other side of the room, his gaze was bright and locked on me. A gorgeous woman in a skintight silk gown stood with her friend, an equally gorgeous woman in an equally gorgeous dress, and they were looking at him like he was god’s gift to womenkind—he was ignoring them completely.

I couldn’t really blame them, because in that suit, he kind of was.

Had I really just thought that? I hadn’t eaten much that day and the second glass of champagne was obviously going to my head. Or was it my third?

Clay hung around for a while, attempting to make small talk before he finally excused himself. I sipped my drink and looked around for food, and instead, spotted Sapphire Eldridge. She sat at the far end of the room, surrounded by a gaggle of witches and several familiars. Sapphire was a very distant cousin of Gran and Else, on the other side of the family, so not a Thornheart, but she acted like we were an extension of her coven and as such liked to keep tabs on us, much to Mom and Else’s annoyance.

They were not fans of the Eldridges.

As soon as her eyes caught mine, she waved me over with an impatient hand.

Great. Just great.

Plastering a smile on my face, I went to join her, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. She shooed everyone away when I reached her. The woman was formidable, a seriously powerful witch, and anyone who purposely pissed her off was an idiot, plain and simple.

“Sit, girl,” she said to me, and her familiar, a diminutive, surly, dark-haired woman, a bird shifter of some kind, dragged a chair over for me.

I sat.

“Your tasks, your trials,” she said, not beating around the bush. “I’ve heard nothing of substance about you, and I’m not happy about it. I like to know what’s going on. A witch was killed just this week during her trial, and I did wonder if it might be you.” She pursed her lips. “But here you are.”

I wasn’t sure how she wanted me to answer that. “Nope, not dead.”

She scowled. “People know of our connection—it’s distant, yes, but it’s still a connection. If you fail in this, if you shame me, I will not be pleased, not at all.”

I took another sip of my drink. “I’ll be pretty upset myself.”

“Don’t be flippant, girl. I wasn’t pleased when you were chosen as Keeper, but here we are. Nothing to be done now.” Her creep of a son, I wasn’t sure which one since he was an identical twin, moved closer. He’d been watching from the sidelines up until that moment, but obviously didn’t like being left out. Which meant this was probably Isaac. The guy’s picture was in the dictionary under mama’s boy.

He was good-looking, a skilled witch, the more powerful out of him and his brother. He wasn’t the Keeper for his coven, though; his older brother by seven minutes, Elmer, had taken that honor.

“Willow,” he said, dipping his head, a smile spreading across his face. “You look lovely.”

“Thanks, Isaac.”

His lips curled up. “I’m flattered you know the difference between me and my brother. Not many do. I hear you’re still on your second task? You won your first trial, though, yes?”

Asuka obviously hadn’t wasted time spreading that around the ballroom. No, we didn’t spend time together anymore, but I still considered her a friend. I could admit her sharing what I told her, here of all places, stung.

“Yes, and yes,” I said, not elaborating. “That’s a nasty-looking cut on your cheek, Isaac. Run into some trouble during yours? Oh sorry, I forgot, Elmer’s your Keeper, yes?” I should shut up, especially since it seemed I was on the back foot in a lot of ways, but the champagne had loosened my tongue.

“Elmer’s doing exceedingly well,” Sapphire said, then her calculating gaze slid between me and her son. “Are you married?”