Page 32 of Demon's Bane

I bite back a grimace. “Not for a few months. Last I checked, she was off-grid somewhere in Scotland.”

Who knows if she’s found the ancient grimoire she’s been hunting for over half a year—one that may or may not even exist—but my magickal historian mother always seems to forget she has a daughter at all when she’s in the field.

“That’s lovely,” Maura says breezily, though I can hear the disappointment in her voice.

Some convoluted, decades-long spat between the two of them means they’re mostly not on speaking terms, but my aunt still loves to pump me for details about what mom’s been up to.

“Listen,” I say, ready to get the hell out of here before Esme comes looking for me. “I should really be—”

“Is it true the High Priestess has you on some errand?” Maura asks, leaning in close like we’re sharing a secret, but still speaking loudly enough for all the gathered witches to hear.

Like she’s been summoned, the High Priestess in question materializes a moment later.

“Sisters,” she says smoothly as she walks over, addressing the witches. “If you wouldn’t mind, I need a few moments alone with Joan.”

Maura’s eyes light with interest as her question is answered for her, and she and the rest of her pals all seem to lean in even closer, drawn to power and drama like moths to a flame.

“Of course,” Maura says magnanimously, inclining her head to the High Priestess.

Esme gives her a haughty, tight-lipped smile before turning back to me. “Joan, if we could take this somewhere more private?”

Woodenly, I nod once before spinning on my heel and stalking off toward where I left my car. Esme can follow if she wants. I really don’t care right now.

Her deft footsteps trail me through the woods. Back through ward after ward after ward as the magick thins and we get closer to the mundane world.

When we reach my car I look left, then right. When I don’t see anyone else around, I plant my feet, square my shoulders, and try to have a damn backbone for once.

“Does Allie know?”

To my endless gratification, a bit of shock shows itself on Esme’s face before she has time to cover it up. Shock that I’d take that tone with her, or shock that I’d have the courage to call her on her shit, I don’t know. And I don’t particularly care.

“That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about—”

“Does. Allie. Know.”

Esme has the nerve to look at me like I’m the irrational one, like we’re not both guilty of hiding things from her daughter.

“There’s nothing to know, since it was not a Crescent witch responsible for the thefts in the demon realm.”

“That’s bullshit,” I say, and Esme arches a brow at the crass language. Whatever. She can be prim and polished on someone else’s time. “She should know. And is she even aware that witches have been crossing into her realm in the first place? Beyond the ones who went through tonight?”

I know nothing about the Veil or the bargain or the rules of all of this, but I can pretty confidently guess that Allie and Eren would want to know if they’ve got a bunch of witches poking around the demon realm.

Esme frowns. “The nature of relations between our two realms is not a matter of your concern. It’s between myself and Allison, and—”

“Oh save it.” Her frown deepens, but I don’t care. “This is fucked, you know that, Esme. Allie and Eren should know.”

“And they will,” she says, and though she’s got all the authority in the world in her voice, I don’t believe her for a damn second. “Besides, if it turns out I’m right and the Crescent Coven has nothing to do with the thefts, it will be a moot point anyway.”

I open my mouth to argue, but she’s not done.

“Also, as far as I know, the village may have already reported the thefts to their king and queen before Rhett was sent here to deal with it. You can ask him about it when you get back to Beech Bay.”

It’s a tiny sliver of plausible deniability that makes me feel better for a few moments, but it doesn’t last.

If Allie doesn’t know, I’d bet my left foot Eren doesn’t know. True, I’ve only met the guy once, but I’d be pretty willing to take the gamble that he’s not in the habit of keeping things from his wife. Not with how obviously in love with her he is.

Or… maybe Allie does know about the thefts, but she doesn’t know about my part in trying to solve them with Rhett. In her mind, maybe there’s no way my ‘coven stuff’ could have come anywhere near this. A deal with the High Priestess. A visitor from the demon realm.