Page 178 of Claimed

Wyatt pales. “Threw me seeing Aphra is all. Want to make sure our deal still stands. I brought the kid.”

“You did and you got the utility potions and those bullets you wanted for that exchange. Now that you’ve delivered on the sweetened pot, the new deal continues to stand. Once I can, I’ll make that new potion for you and you can access any other potions you want for one year afterwards.”

“How long you need?” he asks, looking frustrated but trying to play along.

“A few hours, I suspect. At most, until the morning,” she says casually.

Wyatt’s eyebrows fly up. “The morning? You never said I’d have to wait!”

“I don’t know what the timing will be. My magic could take time to fully manifest. It’s been a while since I practiced my craft. Once your sister helps me, I’ll get to work immediately. You can sleep tonight in that trailer, can’t you? I’ll look after your sister tonight.” She flashes me a smile.

A couple of hours? A lot can change in a couple of hours. I hope hard that Grey will be here within that couple hours. And that whatever Soleil wants from me… that I make it through it.

Wyatt looks hassled, thrusting his hand through his hair but mutters, “All right… but I need to plug in somewhere. And I need some water to get us through until tomorrow. Fresh water tank on the camper is empty, and the generator is out of juice.”

“I’ll send someone out to assist you momentarily.”

“All right,” Wyatt grumbles, grabbing Sherry’s hand and turning to walk out the way we came. Wyatt doesn’t look back.

Sherry does. And she looks concerned for me. But I know there’s not much she can do. Though she has done something major, something that will mess Wyatt up, at least temporarily, maybe worse than that. But I don’t know how much of the herbal mixture went into the soup to make our people ill and eventually kill some of them.

I’m going to walk away from this, though, right? That must be the expectation because Wyatt talked about snapping my neck in front of Grey so that must mean Soleil doesn’t plan to harm me, right? Who knows with Wyatt, though?

I hope he digs into the whisky immediately. While I don’t know how long those effects lasted on the men in Arcana Falls, and I don’t know how much Sherry put in the bottle, I’m sure Grey is fighting to get to me so maybe the herb will at least slow Wyatt’s hideous plans down.

“So,” Soleil claps her hands. “How about if we have a seat, I untie your wrists, and then you do something for me?”

I have no idea what she wants from me, so I don’t answer.

She gestures to where Halla had been sitting and lifts the remote control from the arm of the couch, turning the television off and moving the popcorn bowl to a side table. The other witches stand back, leaning against the wall, but seem to be keeping a watch on us. Seem to be very alert. There’s a weird energy in this room, like something big is about to happen. I just can’t imagine what that might be and what I’ve got to do with it.

I feel like a sacrificial lamb brought to the altar for slaughter.

Aphra steps back into the room. “Soleil? A word?”

Soleil huffs out impatience, but then paints on a smile and says, “One moment, daughter-in-law.”

I look around the space. I look to the women leaning against the wall and try to think of something to say that might help my cause here. But I don’t know what she has planned. I don’t know how I could talk her out of anything. She’s in cahoots with Wyatt, for fuck’s sake.

They’re already back, Soleil moving to me and Aphra leaning against the wall inside the door.

I look at Aphra for cues but she doesn’t make eye contact. And she looks angry.

Soleil reaches over and works the knot loose around my wrists. There’s rugburn as the rope falls away and she hisses with whatseems like sympathy as she inspects my wrists, holding my hands.

“Stacy, I need you to do something for me.”

“What would that be?” I ask, wanting her to let go of my hands, but making no moves.

“No need to be afraid. This won’t be difficult, and you won’t be harmed by helping me. Do you see this necklace I’m wearing?”

I look at the wide, flat silver choker around her throat.

She finally lets go of my hands and turns it so the chain’s barrel clasp is now in the hollow of her throat.

“I need you to remove it,” she states.

I look at her questioningly.

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