Page 13 of Resting Witch Face
“I’m planning on sleeping for two days and kicking ass on Saturday night. You should do the same.” I slowed when we reached our cars in the packed parking lot behind the café. “You’ll be okay to drive?”
“Duh.” Sissily wiggled a tall paper cup at me, which I didn’t even see her carrying until then.
“Incorrigible.” Shoving her toward her car, I snickered as she sashayed to the driver door of her silver Lexus. “Call me when you make up for lost sleep.”
“Will do.” She ducked inside the vehicle and slammed the door a little too hard.
My smile slipped when my back was to her. I moved mechanically, getting into my Mercedes and mushing the start button with unseeing eyes. This was bad. Like life-altering bad, and I had no choice but to step into the storm and trust it wouldn’t rip me apart. The reason I said I would sleep for two days to my best friend was the fact that I had no intention of going home. When I didn’t pick up the phone, she would think I was still in dreamland, while I would be deep in the library searching for any spell or incantation that didn’t require magic. I had a strong feeling that I would find my salvation there. Because I didn’t tell Alex everything my intuition told me.
I hid the feeling of excitement and elation, along with the abyss of darkness that freaked the hell out of me. Especially when the scent of old books and ink filled my nose in the middle of a café while a faint voice whispered, “Come.” Hope was a living thing inside me since, and that led me to my next lesson.
Lesson number four: the moment hope is all you have left, life will squish it like a bug.
7
Walking up the massive, marbled stairs toward the coven building at eleven in the morning on any day that didn’t fall on a sabbath was like showing up at a funeral drunk, dressed in bikinis, and yelling “Opa.” Nerves prickled every inch of my body, stretching my skin so tight I worried it’d start ripping at the sims. It still didn’t stop me from taking them two at a time while sending pleas to Hecate to give me a break this one time. Sure as hell my begging to the Goddess who’d deprived me of magic would fall on deaf ears no matter what I did or did not do. My head swiveled left and right to ensure no one watched my desperate attempt to save my hide. Funny how survival instincts woke me up better than all the bitter espressos ever could.
Obsidian walls loomed over me as my feet moved so fast the last few steps to the front door that I nearly tripped and headbutted the ornate wood. My palm connected to the door with a loud slap, and the carving of the tree bit into my skin, but at least my face was saved from having the imprint of it for a week. That was me, the one with the bright outlook on life always counting her blessings. Never mind those were very few and very far between.
Cracking the door open just wide enough to squeeze my butt through it did not help me get rid of the ants crawling over my nerves. There was a persistent itch between my shoulder blades I was dying to scratch, although I knew it wouldn’t help even if I clawed at it. The shit load of caffeine didn’t help calm my paranoia either, but it did keep my eyes open.
Stepping inside the coven building was like walking into a mausoleum in an ancient and long-forgotten cemetery. A bitter chill in the air nipped at my exposed skin from the lack of magical flames, which left the black pillar candles looking more like hacked-off stumps reaching for the glass ceiling. Dull light bathed everything in gray hues through the silver dome above my head. Contrary to popular belief, witches were not day-loving nutjobs. That stupidity was left to the humans, and thank the Goddess for that. A morning person, I was not. Case and point, the coffee replacing the blood in my veins for two weeks. We were just as nocturnal as the vamps. Maybe more so, taking into consideration we followed the power of the moon just as much as her phases. Strong magic or not, there was not a witch in the world who didn’t dread the lack of moonlight, which was one reason we controlled the weather like our lives depended on it. Well, not my life since I was screwed either way. The rest of them though …
A nervous snicker shook my shoulders, which I cut short when the sound boomed across the vast space and an echo creepy enough to send a shiver down my vertebrae came back at me. My jutted hip smacked the door closed, and I darted to the closest statue of a robed figure to my left, tucking myself in the stone folds of the robe in case someone heard me. The rock sentinel, her hands pressed together in prayer, stood at nine feet tall and a couple of feet wide, offering protection from prying eyes. If I knew I’d be coming here, I would’ve taken it easy on the coffee instead of being a jittery mess twitching in my peep-toes and hugging a statue for dear life.
When no one came running to zap me to smithereens for daring to disturb the peace, I poked my head out just to double check. With the coast clear, I tiptoed down the hall while holding my breath because my heart was making a solid attempt at beating right out of my chest. Aware that there were a handful of administration members mulling around, I darted from one nook to the next, getting a few seconds of reprieve before I neared Danika’s office. Very unfortunate that I had to pass it to reach the library. It was too late to double back when I realized the door was open a sliver and voices from behind it drifted to my ears. Obviously, I wasn’t the only one thinking if I came in the early hours that no one would notice my presence here. And since I didn’t value my life as much as I thought I did, my feet glided closer to the door, skirting around the empty desk before my brain caught up and realized what I was doing. My next breath got stuck in my throat when I recognized the person talking.
“… much as I’d like to agree with you, Mr. Blackman, I must do what is best for my coven. Surely you understand that.” Danika’s tone was coy, but it had just enough bite to tell whoever she was addressing that they were an idiot, as usual. What in all the hexes was she doing in her office this early?
“As I previously stated, you must see the exigency in the situation. You are Danika Byrne, for Hecate’s sake. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. All I’m saying is we can manipulate the situation in a way that those fools will see only what we want them to see. I can’t be the only one who knows the charade for what it is, right?” River had a note of desperation in his words, almost a pleading, which dumped a bucket of dread over my head.
I knew I should go because the conversation not meant for my ears, but my peep-toes seemed glued to the floor, and my feet weighed a ton. Wiping my clammy hands off my clothing, I battled the dizziness threating to take me to the floor, along the heart palpations rattling my ribcage.
“I cannot show favoritism, as you are well aware. What will that say for me as a leader? If the roles were reversed, I’m telling you now, I would not want to follow anyone who would seek personal gain over what was in the best interest of the coven.” At that point, I reached the door, mushing my face as far as I could to peek through the tiny space. My grandmother stood behind her desk facing River, throwing her hands in the air as she spoke. “What do you expect me to do? Say no?”
“Yes.” River widened his stance, and his arms folded stubbornly across his chest. “Yes, I do.”
“I will most definitely not.” Danika’s chin jutted out, and she glared down her nose at him. The short hairs on my arms lifted with the static slapping me from her magic. “How dare you suggest for me to lie and manipulate!”
“She will be cast out, Danika. You can’t be that fucking heartless.” River growled, stepping up and slamming both hands on her desk with a loud smack. His voice rose with each word until he was practically shouting in her face. “She is your blood.Yourblood! You can’t tell me you don’t give a shit if she is dumped among the humans, because you and I both know they’ll rip her apart. Need I remind you of all the witch hunts the humans have done throughout the centuries? How many we have lost, the many burned at the stake or drowned because we couldn’t do shit. What do you think they’ll do to her without the protection of the coven, huh? Welcome her with open arms?”
“Mind your tone, young man, or I will flay the skin off your bones.” Danika’s deceptively soft words made the floor under my feet rock back and forward, the soil under the building shivering in anticipation of the power blasting poor River to nothingness.
Any other day, I would’ve been gloating that she threatened him, but everything he said was playing on repeat in my head, and my blood had turned into shards of ice in my veins. Cast out? Witch hunts? Humans ripping me apart? Because there was no doubt in my mind that they were talking about me. One small part of the mass text message that brought me in the building in the first place stabbed my brain.
No exceptions.
It’s not like I expected Danika Byrne to turn her back on what she thought was right for the coven, but hearing that she would chuck me to the wolves without thinking twice made traitorous tears prickle the back of my eyes. How was that for an eye opener? To have River fucking Blackman, the witch I thought was the enemy and the one I’d been hell bent on avoiding, care about my wellbeing more than my own flesh and blood? Tough love and all that shebang was all good and sound, but casting me out?
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I’d expected that from her, otherwise why would I be eavesdropping at that specific moment? It still smarted like a mofo to know it for sure, though. Numbing shock muddled my head for long enough that I missed whatever else River said. I’d give one thing to Blondie: he definitely didn’t bend his spine under the weight of Danika’s scowl, or her power. If anything, he seemed to grow when he stood, his spine snapping ramrod straight and his shoulders squaring.
“I will not sit back and watch.” The growl was full of gravel, and if I didn’t know he was a witch I would’ve sworn Danika was facing a shifter.
“You do what feels right to you, Mr. Blackman, and let us elders deal with what must be done.” Dismissing him, she pulled her leather chair jerkily, lowering on it.
If I would’ve moved a moment too soon and not been watching when River turned to leave her office with his head bent low to stare at his feet, I would’ve missed it. When his back was to her, my grandmother raised her head, and a small, secretive, and knowing smile tugged at her lips. My belly did acrobatics at the expression, at least until my predicament slapped me in the mug. Blondie was two steps from having a tete-a-tete with me, and I was just standing there like a shmuck.
My head whipped wildly as I jumped away from the slightly opened door, and in my panic, I dived for the empty desk at my side. Hecate must’ve heard my prayers because the chair was left pushed to the end, which allowed me to tuck myself under it. With my heart stuck to the roof of my mouth, I held my breath as the door was yanked fully open before slamming shut with enough force to rattle it on its hinges. River stomped past the desk, only to stop a few feet from it. My lungs screamed and burned from lack of oxygen. The idea of Blondie finding me on my hands and knees under the desk felt like an even worse outcome than being cast out by the only family I had left.
