Page 164 of Happily Ever Witch
Trevelyan nodded, because he did know.
Marrok grunted. “This was a good talk. Very healthy. Much better than you ever did in group therapy. Are we calling a truce here?”
“Fine.” Trevelyan had bigger enemies than the wolf, after all. “Tuesday share circle sticks together, yes?”
Marrok’s mouth curved a bit at the family motto. “Yes. You weren’t actuallyinour Tuesday share circle, though.”
“I was inaTuesday share circle. That counts. It was very bonding. …Except when I killed Bluebeard, during that one session.” He made a face. “Although somehow he’s seems to have survived it.”
“Bluebeard you just beat half to death. It wasGoldbeard we killed.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.Ikilled Bluebeard, a couple hours ago. Well, Snow White did, technically. Goldbeard is the guy we buried in the garbage dumpster and then let The Count of What’s-His-Face take the blame for it.”
Trevelyan blinked in genuine confusion. “Who the hell wasGoldbeard?”
Marrok lifted a baffled shoulder. “I thoughtyouknew that.”
“I never heard of him.”
“Well, why did we hate him, then?”
“I thoughtyouknew that.”
“I have no clue! I was just following you.”
They looked at each other.
“Huh.” Marrok finally said. “Well, he was probably a jerk.”
“So was Bluebeard.” Trevelyan dismissed the mix-up, because what did it really matter? “They’re both dead. We’re not. Let’s keep it that way.”
“Agreed.”
A commotion sounded from outside the room. “Where the hell is my dragon?”
Trevelyan’s head snapped around. That wasn’t Esmeralda’s voice, but she was the person using it. The poisoned-candy scent was unmistakable. His mate was here! She’d found him.
And for some damn reason she sounded like Cinderella.
Chapter Thirty-One
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“Is that Cinderella?” Marrok jumped to his feet. “What isshedoing here? I thought we locked up that depraved nutcase.”
Trevelyan was already at the door. He wrenched it open, stepped into the hall, and was nearly flattened by a stampede of playing cards. The guards were fleeing from a very pissed off witch.
Esmeralda stalked after them, dressed in Cinderella’s body and fishnet stockings. Her disguise was off-putting, of course. (Marrok was right, for once. Cinderella was indeed a depraved nutcase.) But Esmeralda wasEsmeralda, no matter the glamour. Seeing his beautiful mate had his mood soaring. Esmeralda was safe and whole and out for blood.
“One of you is going to tell me where Trevelyan is or I willmakeyou tell me.”
