Page 31 of Demon's Bane

Allie, your mother came to my tea shop and ultimatumed me into helping her.

Allie, I think there’s some shady shit going on with the demon realm and the Crescent Coven, and I think your mother is hiding it from you.

Allie, I think I’m being a shitty friend and a shitty witch and a goddamn coward right now, and I don’t know how to fix it.

In the few brief seconds I have to panic-spiral through those thoughts, it also becomes very apparent that our time is up.

The last of the demons and witches are stepping into the Veil. I see Eren glance at Allie like he’s giving her the silent ‘it’s time to head out’ signal, and everything feels like it’s slipping out of my control faster than I can stop it.

“What?” Allie asks again, turning back to me.

My stomach drops all the way to the forest floor. “If I say I can’t tell you right now, would you accept that?”

She opens her mouth to argue, and I cut back in to dig my grave a little deeper.

“Before you say no, I’m alright. I’m not in trouble or any danger. It’s just… coven stuff.”

Coven stuff. Me helping Esme. Me deciding to take the coward’s way out right now instead of confiding in my best friend.

The words I want to say hang perilously close to the tip of my tongue.

Can we take some time to figure this out, maybe over a cup of tea?

Can you give me the advice I don’t want to hear, but probably need?

Can we talk all of this through the way we used to—for hours, until we laugh so hard our ribs hurt—until I’m not so certain I’m making a goddamn mess of everything?

“Coven stuff?” she asks. “Since when are you involved in coven stuff?”

“I promise I’ll tell you more when I can,” I say, even though the words taste like poison on my tongue.

For a few more moments, Allie looks like she might argue the point, but she seems to think better of it as she pulls me into one last hug.

“You better.”

Then she’s leaving. She’s heading back to her husband and her place as queen beside him. She’s stepping through the Veil, disappearing into a realm where there are no quiet afternoons for us to have tea, no way for me to send her a text or stop by her apartment for wine and a long chat, no way for me to know how badly I just fucked up.

I’m left alone, watching the hazy, swirling light of the Veil and feeling my entire world shifting under my feet, again.

Before I can think better of it, those feet start moving.

All I want to do is get out of this Goddess-damned forest, back to the silence of my car and the three-hour drive home so I can think this through. Or just stew over it and feel horrible and guilty. I don’t know. Either. Both.

I’ve got my eyes trained ahead of me, blinders fully on and tunnel vision setting in, so I barely notice the group of witches I’m passing until one reaches out and brushes a bony hand against my arm.

“Joan. I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

Stumbling over my own feet, I catch myself just in time to straighten and come face to face with my aunt Maura.

“Hey, Maura. Sorry, I didn’t see you.”

Behind her, a gaggle of other witches watch the interaction with the same keen gazes I’ve felt like a slithering, oily film on me all night.

They’re insiders, not quite as high up in the sanctum as Esme and the coven leaders, but part of the old guard who’ve always got their noses in all the coven business.

Goddess, this is the last damn thing I need right now.

“Hello, dear,” Maura says, leaning in to kiss one cheek, then the other. “It’s wonderful to see you. Have you spoken to your mother lately?”