Page 32

CHAPTER 32

J onah glanced at his watch as he paced the foyer. The makeshift altar was still in the room and he picked absently at some candle wax on the top of it before rechecking his watch. Elora and Cece had been gone nearly two hours, and Elora hadn’t replied to his text. If they weren’t home in the next five minutes, he didn’t care what Elora wanted. He was going to the WWC and looking for her.

He’d fought bitterly against letting Elora go to the WWC without him but, in the end, had to concede that she knew best when it came to the Witches and Warlocks Council. And she was adamant that the meeting would go better if she didn’t bring him with her. His only consolation was that one of the security detail, a cheetah shifter named Fenton, had driven Elora and Cece to the WWC.

The door opened in a blast of cold air, and Elora and Cece stepped into the foyer. He hurried over, pulling Elora into his embrace before she could even take off her coat.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said, her voice grouchy. She sighed as Jonah took off her coat. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped.”

“What happened?” he asked.

“The WWC is full of useless bureaucratic assholes, is what happened,” Elora said. Her hands glowed blue, and Jonah could practically see smoke drifting out of her body. Whoa… wait… that was actual smoke unfurling from her skin.

“Elora, you’re smoking again,” Cece said.

Elora grunted with frustration before waving the smoke away. “Goddammit.”

“Why are you smoking?” Jonah asked.

She shrugged dismissively as she took her jacket from him and hung it in the closet with short, angry movements. “It happens sometimes.”

“I’ve lived with you for two years, and I’ve never seen it happen,” Jonah said.

“It happens when she’s struggling to control her magic,” Cece said. “Helen said when she went through puberty, she smoked almost constantly.”

“Zip it, Cece,” Elora said.

“Why would puberty make it harder to control her magic?” Jonah asked.

“Sometimes a blood witch’s magic becomes more powerful when they go through puberty, and it can be difficult for them to learn to control that extra power. There was an elemental warlock at my school, and he basically leaked water from his skin all through junior high,” Cece said.

Jonah stared at Elora. “Your magic is stronger?”

“A little,” she said dismissively.

“Just a little?” he asked.

“It’s not unusual for a blood witch’s magic to increase or decrease after…”

“After a magical fight with another witch that almost kills you?” Jonah said.

“After an event that tests your magic or pushes you to use more than you ever have,” Elora said. “It’s no big deal, Jonah.”

He wanted to believe her, he really did, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze, and her voice had a furtive quality to it he’d never heard before.

“Elora -”

“The WWC isn’t going to help,” she said abruptly.

Shock rippled through him. “What?”

Elora’s hands glowed with blue light again as she laughed bitterly. “It’s their fucking job to hunt dark witches, but, apparently, the witch is put on a list that is calculated by how dangerous they are. And Malencia’s actions haven’t exactly put her at the top of the list.”

“What number is she?” Jonah asked, his stomach trying to curl in on itself.

Elora didn’t reply, but Cece said, “Fifty-seven.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Anger roared through him, and he felt like he could start smoking at any point. “She nearly killed Elora and kidnapped Caleb, and she’s fifty-fucking-seven?”

He turned to Elora. “Did you tell them she nearly killed you?”

“I did,” Elora said. “I told them everything - how she’d cursed you three years ago, how she broke into your home and attacked us, but they…”

“They what?” Jonah asked.

Elora rubbed at her forehead. “Something bad has been happening in the witching world for the last few years, Jonah. It has the WWC frantic and… scared.”

She glanced at Cece. “Normally, dark witches are loners. There are a number of reasons why, but the biggest reason is that practicing dark magic for too long makes you paranoid as fuck. Dark witches trust no one - not even other dark witches. But there have been rumours of a large and powerful coven of witches who have been practicing the dark arts together in order to…”

“In order to what?” Jonah asked.

“To gain power,” Elora said. “Over humans, the paranormal, and all other magical beings.”

“Holy fuck,” Jonah said. “Is that coven here?”

“If rumours are to be believed, yes,” Elora said. “We’ve always had a disproportionately large number of paranormals and magical beings to humans because of the fault line that lies directly across the city.”

“I thought the fault line was a myth,” Jonah said.

“The coven won’t gain power,” Cece said. “The WWC will stop them.”

“Will they?” Jonah asked.

Cece chewed at her lip. “If they find the One, then -”

“The One is definitely a bullshit rumour,” Elora said.

“What are you talking about?” Jonah asked.

He and Cece followed Elora as she marched into the kitchen. She started to make some tea, and Jonah gently pushed her toward the stools at the island. “I’ll make the tea. Tell me about the One.”

“There is no One,” Elora said. “It’s just a dumb rumour someone made up because they’ve read too many YA books.”

“Cece?” Jonah said.

“Talk of the One has been around for years,” Cece said. “Even before the rumours started circulating about a crazy coven of dark witches trying to take over the damn world.”

“Exactly. Which is why it’s bullshit about how the One is needed to stop the coven,” Elora said. “Helen used to tell me bedtime stories about the coming of the One when I was a kid, the same stories her mother used to tell her. That’s how long they’ve talked about it.”

“Right, but I mean, the stories do say that the One is the light needed to fight the darkness,” Cece said.

“That’s all it says,” Elora said. “The darkness could mean anything.”

“So the One is a powerful witch?” Jonah added tea bags to the teapot to steep before placing mugs in front of Elora and Cece.

Elora shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe she -”

“Or he,” Cece said.

“Maybe they’re a witch, maybe they’re a fae, hell, they could be a shapeshifter for all we know,” Elora said. “The stories aren’t clear. They just call them the One who will unite us against the darkness.”

She scowled at her mug as Jonah poured steaming tea into it. “The WWC have been searching for the One for years, and it’s a waste of time and resources. No wonder they have a list as long as my arm of dark witches to bring in. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Cece said, “So, what do we do now?”

“We find Caleb on our own,” Elora said. “Screw the WWC.”

“I’ll find Caleb,” Jonah said. “You’re not going near this witch ever again, Elora.”

She gave him a look. “We’re in this together, Jonah. Remember?”

“I won’t risk you getting hurt again or -”

His phone rang, and he glanced at it before answering the call. “Fenton, what’s up?”

“A woman is approaching the house,” the cheetah shifter said. “She’s a fae, I can smell it. Do you want me to stop her?”

“No,” Jonah said, “I’ll deal with it, thanks.”

He ended the call. “Nimera is here.”

He headed back to the foyer, Elora and Cece right behind him. He opened the door, staring silently at Nimera, who was standing on the doorstep.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

He stepped back, and she stood in the foyer, her slender body shivering lightly and her hand resting protectively on her belly.

Elora pushed past Jonah, taking Nimera’s free hand. “Are you and the baby okay?”

“Yes. Have you… have you found Caleb?”

Elora shook her head, and the fae’s fragile composure immediately crumbled. She started to cry, and Elora pulled her into her embrace, rubbing her back. “I’m sorry, Nimera. I’m so sorry.”

“He isn’t dead,” Nimera sobbed. “I know he isn’t. My heart would know if his had stopped.”

“I don’t believe he’s dead either,” Jonah said as Cece handed Nimera some tissues.

Elora kept her arm around Nimera’s shoulders, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Come have some tea with us, Nimera.”

When they were settled at the island again, Jonah said, “I believe Malencia will use Caleb as bait rather than kill him.”

“Do you know where this Malencia is?” Nimera asked. “Where she might be keeping Caleb?”

“No,” Jonah said.

“We’re trying to find her,” Cece said.

“We will find her,” Elora said confidently. “We’ll find her, and we’ll bring Caleb home safe to you and us.”

“What about your family?” Jonah asked. “Can they help us find Malencia?”

Not that he wanted the fucking fae anywhere near Elora after what they did to him, but their magic would be helpful in saving Caleb.

Nimera hesitated before nodding. “Yes, they’ll help.”

Jonah studied her. “You sure about that?”

Before she could reply, someone pounded on the front door, and Jonah could hear the squeal of outrage coming from outside, even from the kitchen.

“What was that?” Elora slid off the stool, and the hairs on the back of his neck rising at the shrill caterwauling, Jonah followed her toward the door.