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Cullen pushed back his chair. “If you women intend to squabble amongst yourselves while purporting to help Sunny, we are leaving until you calm your hot heads down!”
He rose to his feet so quickly his chair crashed to the floor.
He grabbed Sunny’s hand, and she automatically rose to her feet too. “Wait, Cullen, we need as much help as we can get.”
“Oh, how lovely.” It was one of the quieter women, and she clapped her hands together as she looked at them. “You two are so cute together
!”
“Rowena,” Celeste warned, “let’s stay on track.”
“You can talk,” Willow sniped.
Sunny collapsed back into her chair. Cullen followed. “Surely one man can’t cause such a mess.”
“Man, or witch,” Aveline responded.
“Witch, or demon,” Rowena chipped in.
“Awesome,” Sunny muttered. Not only was she entangled in a coven war, she was somehow a crucial part of the battle against a man who was definitely a witch and may even be a demon.
Just another day full of surprises in Raven’s Landing.
Rowena still looked at her with a warning in her eyes. Rowena was young, maybe nineteen, a pretty blonde girl Sunny had seen helping out in the cafe.
Celeste nodded. “You’re right, you’re all right. My judgment is often impaired. Fox once owned my heart, amongst many more.”
“So you say,” Willow muttered. “You’re the only one who still loves him.”
Celeste flashed her a warning glance. “He has a charming way about him.”
Sunny shuddered as she thought back to her encounters with Fox. “I agree, if you mean charming in an evil way.”
Willow nodded at her.
Sunny had the feeling Willow might be protesting because she too had fallen for the viscount. That was another question at the back of her mind. “I hardly dare ask, but what are these “dark tides” you keep referring to?”
“It’s part of the dark and complex history of the underworld,” Aveline replied. “If I said the ships sailing on the dark tides were vessels powered by black magic or the occult, that’ll give you an idea.”
“Wonderful,” Sunny replied.
“Fox treads the dark path in search of power,” Willow added. “Places we would never go. And I suspect he was trading Cullen’s soul to the underworld.”
“We can only guess at that,” Celeste snapped.
Once again, Willow rolled her eyes.
“And why do you think my nomadic blood means I have magical ability?”
“Leave it to me,” Aveline said and skimmed her fingers over her keyboard. “The name of the tribe?”
“Nayandi,” Sunny responded.
Cullen sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. He looked at the laptop tablet suspiciously.
“The Nayandi tribe,” Aveline read aloud, “believed to have originated in Egypt, roamed across North Africa, frequenting and facilitating trade routes. Yes, it’s believed they revered shamanic leaders who could harness the power of the crowd and use it to connect to the spiritual world. The spirits brought positive energy and fruitfulness to their cause.” Aveline looked at them over the rims of her glasses. “There’s a parallel with our own beliefs, albeit defined within the boundaries of their Egyptian roots and nomadic culture. They’re drawing on the natural and spiritual world as sources, just the way we do.”
Sunny wasn’t as impressed as everyone else around the table appeared to be. Her mother had said as much, but she hadn’t really given it any credence. Figured it was nonsense. Besides, she had another equally pressing question to ask Aveline. “When I asked you about the history of the cottage, did you really tell me everything you knew?”
