Page 36 of Her Dreadful Will
As Soleil hesitated, music spiraled through the glade, a dark beat twined with a tantalizing melody. The man with the speakers had apparently turned them on.
“At least come and meet everyone.” Achan’s whispered plea drew her attention back to him. “Remember, I promised to answer all your questions afterward.”
“You’re a liar,” she snapped. “How can I trust you?”
“Fair enough. I’m a liar. But I’ll try not to lie to you again—unless it’s absolutely necessary.” His thin fingers closed around her wrist, and she felt a warning trickle of power emanating from him. A mere rivulet of magic—but not like the last drops from a bottle. No, this was the leak in a dam, the first sign of a massive flood. Her breath froze in her lungs as she faced that vast reservoir of power—dark and indistinct, but immense enough to swallow her whole.
She jerked her hand away from his neck.
No mere nature witch possessed that much power.
Again her curiosity spiked, along with her heart rate. How could she turn away from something this compelling and potentially life-changing? If nothing else, she should stay and gather intel so she could report them all to the Convocation. If he wanted to keep secrets, she would too. She’d be a sweet little spy in their midst. For some reason he already trusted her enough to bring her here; it should be easy to take advantage of that trust.
Now that she thought about it, it was almost pitiful how quickly he’d trusted her—a witch he’d just met. Maybe he had trouble seeing past a pretty face. Or maybe he and his coven were desperate for more power, more shared radiance for their circle. Willing to take a risk by admitting a newcomer. Did they know how terrible that risk might be, what the Convocation’s enforcers were willing to do to rule-breakers?
She glanced at the black figures busy in the clearing. One was spraying paint in long lines on the grass. Another was scattering handfuls of something leafy. They all looked so mystical and sorcerous. Suddenly her jeans, T-shirt, jacket, and high-tops seemed painfully mundane.
“Should I be more Goth?”
His eyes widened, humor sparking in them. “Should you be moreGoth?”
“I’m not very witchy. Witch-like. I mean, they look more like witches than I do.”
“So you think real witches should go around signaling it to everyone.” He nodded sagely. “Okay, I get it. Let’s break out the cloaks and pointed hats. Don’t forget the wands, too.”
“Stop it.” She smacked his arm.
He snickered. “Fine. Then you stop buying into the media’s image of what a witch should be. Look atme, Sol. I’m a dentist. I wear a white coat and glasses most days. Do I fit the pop culture profile of a witch? Oh wait—I’m supposed to be awarlock, since I’m male, right?”
Soleil rolled her eyes. “Let’s not get intothatdebate. I heard enough of it in the Institute chat threads. The Convocation decided that we would all be witches, to eliminate dual-gender exclusivity. End of story.”
“Exactly. But humans don’t know that. They still do the old witch/warlock differentiation. And they still assume that a witch must dress and act a certain way. Obviously some members of my coven have bought into that myth as well.” He nodded to the group in the clearing. “But we don’t have to judge ourselves by their standards. Now come and meet my people.” He held out his hand to her again.
The way he said “my people”—it reminded her of the possessiveness she felt for the humans whose hyacles lay in her boxes at home. His tone hinted at regal ownership, the natural dominance of a more powerful being.
“I’ll come with you,” she said. “But I’m not holding your hand.”
15
The instant Soleil and Achan stepped out of the forest, a girl bustled up to them, her cheeks flushed pink through the brown of her skin, her dark eyes shining huge beneath heavy fake lashes. Her sky-blue hair was bundled into twin knots on top of her head, and around her neck was a black leather collar, its pearlescent studs matching the ones in her eyebrows and nose.
“Achan! You’re finally here! The bugs are getting annoying. Can you do something about that?”
“Sure.” He pulled a small pouch from his pocket and looked apologetically at Soleil. “I have to walk the perimeter for pest control purposes, but Angel can introduce you to everyone. She’s one of our sensitives. Angel, this is Soleil.”
“Soyou’reSoleil.” The girl’s scarlet lips made anO.
“Have fun.” Achan winked and strode off.
Soleil imagined smacking his face and found the vision deeply satisfying. “He told you guys about me?”
“He told us to expect someone new—someone powerful. And he mentioned that your radiance might be weak right now, because of magic overuse?”
Judging by the question in the girl’s eyes, Achan hadn’t divulged what Soleil’s affinity was. All the better, because she didn’t want to spend the entire night reassuring everyone that she wouldn’t mind-flex them.
“I’m a little weaker than usual, yes,” she admitted.
“Then this moondance should fix you right up. We’re almost done setting up for it, and then we’ll start stripping down and stenciling. I’ve got a book of arcane sigils and alchemical symbols over there, so you can pick out which ones you want. Achan says it’s best not to rely on symbols you find on the internet.” She shrugged.
