Page 97 of Her Dreadful Will
He quirked an adorable smile at her. “Can’t I?”
Soleil rolled her eyes. “So sure of yourself. Do you think other witches have done this kind of thing before?”
“Probably, in past centuries. Before the Eldritch Convocation was created. Before they made all the rules, buried certain magicks, and took control of us on behalf of the humans.” He reached for the hyacle in Soleil’s palm.
“You really believe that? You think the Convocation works for the humans?”
“I believe the Convocation was created by humans to suppress the true power of witches, yes.”
“It sounds like a crazy conspiracy theory.”
“But it would explain why they keep certain types of knowledge from us, wouldn’t it? They teach us the mild, harmless, easily concealed magicks, and they hide the truth of the old ways. Wouldn’t you rather follow the path of sorceresses like Morgana and La Voisin? Powerful women who were legends in their own right?”
“They were killed though,” Soleil said. “You took Magical History. You know what happens to all powerful witches eventually. That’s why secrecy is so important. The more powerful you are, the tougher it is to conceal your magic. Maybe that’s why the Convocation keeps certain secrets, so we don’t advance beyond what is safe for us.”
“Do you really wantsafe?” He trailed one fingertip along the back of her hand, following the thin ridge of bone to her middle finger. “Or do you want a taste of danger?”
His hand hovered over hers, warm and tantalizing.
Soleil looked into his green eyes, and in them she saw a part of herself reflected—a slice of her spirit she’d restrained and denied since the day she realized how dangerous her power could be.
She had been four years old.
Furious at the neighbor kid for snapping the head off her brand-new toy unicorn, she had mind-flexed him into jumping from the top of the playground slide.
She had expected him to have a few bruises, a little pain.
He had broken both legs.
No one attributed the incident to her. The adults had blamed the boy for being foolish. But Soleil knew it was her fault. It was a dark secret, but darker still was the satisfaction she had felt when the boy screamed. She had felt so guilty over it that she hadn’t used her power at all, for months.
That day marked the beginning of her self-restraint, of her ongoing mantra—only unselfish good.
But maybe Achan was right. Maybe hiding that devilish, dangerous part of herself, denying its existence, could only lead to confusion and misery. Maybe facing and accepting it was the key to becoming truly effective in her work.
She rotated her hand so that one side of the hyacle contacted his palm. With her other hand she touched the molar he held. “Let’s try a little danger.”
The instant she finished speaking, she was sucked away, the workroom vanishing from her sight while the tethers opened a new window in her mind. She could see the Brownells’ bedroom. The golden light of the lamp on the nightstand glowed on billows of rich bedding, in which Elena Brownell lay with her phone, watching a show while her husband slumped against pillows nearby, texting. Soleil could feel both of their wills and see both of their screens at once—the amount of input was overwhelming and she felt her consciousness seizing up, thoughts flickering in confused disarray.
And then she felt something else—a whispering presence she recognized, like the brush of a familiar hand.
Achan.
His presence was flaky, sputtering like a candle in a draft. She could sense his panic as he struggled in the swirling vortex between the two tethers and their disparate powers. He was losing himself in the chaos.
Mentally she reached out to him, twining around him with her magic and her consciousness. In steadying him, she steadied herself. She breathed, and heard his answering exhale from somewhere nearby.
Thank you. Achan’s thought whispered in her mind. Tentatively she directed her thoughts to his presence and answered,You’re welcome.
Neither Elena nor her husband reacted.
They can’t hear us, can they?Soleil thought.
Not unless we want them to, I think.
Soleil turned her attention to Mayor Brownell’s phone screen. He was sexting the girl from his office. While in bed. With his wife. She couldn’t believe the sheer stupidity of it. And he was already aroused. Soleil flinched in disgust and sent a thought to Achan.It’s almost like he wants to get caught.
After a moment or two, Achan responded.Let’s grant his wish.
