Page 35 of Her Dreadful Will
He cocked his head. “Not impressed?”
Despite the cringe factor, shewasimpressed, but she kept her face impassive. This guy was already too cocky for his own good. “That was creepy. What kind of nature witch are you?”
“Are you made of questions?”
“Are you made of bugs?”
He burst into laughter, so impulsive and genuine that Soleil couldn’t help smiling. “Come on,” he said. “It’s not far now.”
A scant dozen steps later, the trees thinned, lights winking between their trunks. Achan paused, waiting for Soleil to catch up. Beyond the lacy branches, she glimpsed a wide clearing strung with twinkle lights. To one side, a few crates sat in a row like a makeshift table, their surfaces strewn with objects she couldn’t make out at this distance. Several people drifted through the space, all of them dressed in black. Most of the clothing was dramatically styled—cobwebs of black lace, mesh panels showing skin beneath, far more straps and buckles than were practically necessary. She caught the glitter of piercings, too, and the shine of heavy jewelry.
A man carrying a pair of speakers passed by the trees where Soleil and Achan stood enshadowed. His volisphere was broad and open, and Soleil felt a flash of his will—an impulse to show off some minor magic he’d been working on—
Soleil gripped Achan’s elbow, halting him as he was about to move out of the trees into view of the group.
“You lied to me,” she hissed. “At least one of these people is a real witch—barely, butstill. Are there more?”
“Two more besides me,” he confessed.
“Oh my god.” How could she have been so stupid? “This is an illegal coven. I won’t be involved in this—I can’t. I want to be a Highwitch, Achan, and if something like this gets on my record—” She spun away from him. “I’m leaving.”
He caught her arm and whirled her around, delicately, as a dancer might spin his partner. Advancing, he backed her against the rough surface of a tree, propping one hand above her head. “I had to lie. If I’d told you about Lindsey and Del, you wouldn’t have come.”
“Damn right I wouldn’t. I’m no rule-breaker.”
“But youare, Soleil,” he whispered. “You just don’t know it yet.”
Despite his slender frame, he seemed immense, towering over her, his presence a cloud of citrus and smoky cedar and incisive green eyes.
Soleil resented the way he made her feel weak and wild at once. “Who do you think you are?” she retorted. “You talk to me like you know me, but you don’t. We just met each other. Don’t pretend to understand who I am.”
“Soleil, please. You need this. Why do you think the ancient witches gathered? We weren’t meant to be isolated, alone. That’s how the Convocation keeps us weak. We were meant to be together, to draw strength from each other. It’s the only way our kind can ever grow and learn.”
“No.” She wasn’t about to end up as another body behind some warehouse, and this felt like the first step toward that doom. Soleil ducked away, but Achan side-stepped, blocking her path again.
Savage eagerness flared through her body—her inner devil spoiling for a fight—and she seized his pale throat in her hand, flexing the rings on her fingers. She knew he could feel the thrum of impending magic through the metal.
“You can sense what my rings are, what they do?”
He nodded, the cords of his throat shifting warm against her palm as he swallowed.
“All I need is a word. A thought.” Her voice was a bladed threat. “You can’t keep me here.”
Achan raised his hands in a placating gesture. “You need a full recharge, Soleil.” The anxiety in his voice caught her attention in spite of herself. “You’re not looking so good.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that. When you came to see me that night, at my clinic, I read your aura. I have a gauging circle on the ceiling, above the chair, in case any witches happen to show up—and your radiance level is scary low. Whatever you’re doing with your magic here in town—it’s killing you. Please stay. Please join us. At least this one time, let me help you.”
“Join you for what, exactly?”
He glanced away, and she tightened her grip slightly. “Tell me!”
“I was hoping you would join us for a dance.”
She almost let go out of sheer surprise. A moonlit dance in the forest, like the witches of old used to do. So he was just a pervert after all, trying to get her naked—and in front of a bunch of strangers, no less.
“You don’t have to join in if you don’t want to,” he said. “Although your presence would really help the coven, and vice versa. But no pressure.”
