Page 14 of Lunar Desires (Celestial Magic #2)

RILEY

W e were dropped off in another brightly lit white room. This one contained a chrome, oval table with four chairs around it. No window. No signs of an escape route other than the door we’d been ushered through.

Gingerly, I shuffled toward the table. “Shall we sit?”

“Don’t you dare!” Isaac snapped. “That’s what they want us to do.”

Overreaction much?

He gestured for me to stand with him on the right wall. He folded his arms tightly, his furious gaze trained on the door.

“We’ve got to exude authority of our own,” he said. “They don’t get to make us feel small.”

As much I respected that, I worried he might piss off the wrong person with his salty attitude. Namely Stefan Rushden.

I clasped my hands together behind my back, my bottom lip getting a good old nervous chew.

Oh, God. The temperature in here was too much, a ripple of fear racing up my spine.

Erin arrived with two witchcops a few minutes after us, alleviating some of the unease.

I dropped my hands as relief surged through me. By Hecate, it was fabulous to see her warm, dark-brown face again. She looked tired, though, her eyes a little bloodshot.

She smiled at me, touching the bun she’d tied her gray waves into. “Hello, you. I’m glad to see you’re well.”

“Kind of,” I answered, giving her a smile. “How are you?”

The wicthcops left the room.

Erin pulled her lilac cardigan around her. “Desperate for a cup of tea. Let’s sit.”

Isaac huffed but pulled out a chair. He crossed his legs haughtily, saying nothing.

I sat next to him, Erin taking the seat beside me.

She parked her backside with a heavy sigh. “What a day.”

Because of Drake… “Yeah,” I agreed, keeping a lid on the inner thoughts. “How did they find us?”

Erin folded her hands in her lap. “A failure in the cloaking potion. I think it occurred when you were pulled out of the mansion. Not straight away, but around the time you found shelter in the goblin’s shop. Or so I’m told. The blue figure’s attack didn’t help.”

I swallowed, rubbing at my chest.

Dad…

My dad…

“But I don’t think that’s the case,” Erin added. She breathed in and out through her nose, taking a ten second pause. “I think the power of your blood is too strong for a cloaking potion. At least the one we have.”

“Typical,” Isaac interjected.

“The Auroras before you were never required to take it because they were part of society. Free to use their gifts for the greater good, not forced to hide. But these are different times.”

Damn right they were. “So, now what?”

Erin ran her tongue over her teeth, tapping her foot a few times. “Everything is fine. I don’t want you to panic.”

“Easier said than done,” Isaac responded. “These pricks are about to make our lives difficult.”

“Please don’t create a confrontation,” Erin countered.

Isaac gave a curt nod, followed by a mighty diva huff.

“Please, Isaac,” she implored.

“Fine. I won’t. You can trust me.”

His mood was in the toilet, irritation rolling off him in waves. With good reason.

I swung for positivity. “It’ll be okay.”

Listen to me trying to be all level-headed and calm while my chest buzzed with the intensity of angry bees trapped in a jar.

Erin was right about wanting a cup of tea. My cravings were through the roof.

Make that a tea with a side of spiced rum.

My brother glanced at me, then nodded again. No words, but an understating passed between us. One that said, “I’ve got your back, and cheers for having mine.”

A hundred percent. We were in this together, no matter what.

Dad…

My dad…

The door opened again, the two witchcops moving into a position to flank the door.

A man walked through it, dressed in a baby-blue suit with a navy tunic shirt beneath it. Blue glasses sat on a crooked nose, green eyes regarding me as he slowly walked around the table to the remaining seat.

I heard Isaac take a sharp breath, saw his arms fold even tighter.

Stefan sat down without a word, a waft of musk tickling my nostrils.

Immediately, I wanted out of his presence, every alarm bell screaming for me to put as much distance between us as possible. But the voice of my Aurora blood whispered for me to teach him a lesson.

I was the real power in this room, not him.

With one use of my Tidal Pull, I could have him face-planting on this table.

I wriggled in my chair, teeth clamped down on my bottom lip.

The inquisitor cleared his throat, smoothing down the lapels of his jacket. I’d never seen him up close before. His wizened, pinkish face was covered in scars and pock marks, and his bald head gleamed under the bright light, more scars crisscrossing his scalp.

My throat burned as I swallowed, my anxiety making my left foot judder.

Stefan removed his glasses, slipping them into his jacket pocket. He looked at me first with burrowing eyes. I squirmed, my cheeks on fire, both feet now curled into balls in my hospital slippers.

Oh, God.

“Hello,” he said in a deep yet relaxed tone. “I am High Coven Inquisitor Stefan Rushden.” He didn’t offer me a hand, only stared and upped the uncomfortable stakes.

“H-hi,” I answered.

Get me out of here!

Stefan sat ramrod straight—almost too straight, as if his body wasn’t built for it. “Firstly, I would like you to tell me exactly what happened from the moment you left Aurora Mansion this afternoon.”

I felt myself blanch and turned to Erin. “I…” Damn. I couldn’t do this.

“You can tell him,” Erin said soothingly. “Don’t worry.”

I glanced at his witch bangle, the light green for active.

The threat of his truth magic made me go with complete honesty. I relayed every detail from the train station incident up to now, leaving nothing out. By the end of it, I felt like I’d said too much, betraying my dad by divulging those details.

At the end of my tale, Stefan returned his glasses to his face. “Thank you for not lying to me, Riley.” His bangle made a ticking sound.

“You’re welcome,” I answered, my throat dry.

“Now, let me tell you what’s going to happen.”

Tell us? How about we tell you, arsehole?

I drew blood from biting my lip, its metallic taste hitting my tongue.

“The coven elders have decided the return of House Aurora cannot be ignored or shut down,” he said. “At least for the time being. So, you will be sent back to the mansion to perform your duty with the full support of the High Coven.”

Wow. I hadn’t expected that response.

Isaac shuffled in his seat, keeping his mouth shut.

The coven elders were the real power, a global council laying down laws, making moves in the shadows. No one knew who they were, apart from those deemed worthy of the privilege to be within the inner circle.

You could say they were unelected officials, handed the keys to the kingdom with zero say from the people. But to question such authority was treason, and too late anyway. The High Coven took power with no votes, sticking a finger up to an already frayed democracy.

Stefan continued. “You are permitted to do your work on the streets, but also required to hide your faces with a High Coven approved glamouring potion.”

What the hell was that?

As if reading my mind, Stefan answered. “Glamouring is a new creation. It changes your appearance—from your face to your clothing. It isn’t infallible, and we have found shadow witches can see through it.

Curse them. However, we will brew the potion to our liking.

You only need to drink it.” He smiled at Isaac.

“An especially useful tool for a famous model like you.”

My brother said nothing.

“It will allow you to move freely through the city, looking like High Coven agents. This is the best way to keep your work secret in order to protect the public, as well as yourselves.” He cleared his throat again, looking between Isaac and me with a piercing regard.

“We cannot be having mass hysteria over your return.”

Hard agree from me. My family’s name was a dirty word in many pockets of the world, and we didn’t want the pitchfork brigade kicking down our doors.

Ugh. What a thought.

“Your new shade-killing ability, which we will monitor closely, is truly a gift from Hecate. A sign to embrace House Aurora once again.” He smiled without any warmth.

Him and the coven elders must hate us for doing what they couldn’t.

Suck it up, arseholes.

Erin went to say something, but the inquisitor cut her off.

“Let me finish this, Miss. Lovell.”

“Apologies.”

He nodded. “You will be designated a High Coven liaison and be expected to keep a diary of your activities. Any changes in your powers or circumstances must be recorded, and I will be checking for any falsehoods every Sunday morning.”

Sounded like hell having to see his face every seven days.

After clearing his throat, he carried on. “We look forward to working with you in defeating the apocalypse, whenever the true threat reveals itself. And we hope you will be better than those before you.” A pause to let his words sink in.

Whatever.

“We understand you wield great power, but you are only three men. And you will be stopped if you go the way of your wretched uncle.”

“Not going to happen,” Isaac interjected.

Stefan pinned him with his creepy eyes. “I hope so.”

I licked my lips, staying quiet, hoping for a wrap-up on this so I could get back to Drake, who Stefan hadn’t mentioned yet.

“As with all things,” the inquisitor said, “we must see how this plays out.” His eyes landed on me again. “Don’t worry, Riley. Nothing will happen to the scrying witch.”

What the hell? Did he have a mind-reading spell in his bangle?

His lips spread into a wry smile. “We know you two are involved. He is a useful ally for you have around.”

“I—”

“Of course, should we require his services, we will make use of him.”

Scrying witches came along once in a blue moon. Actually, less frequently than that.

“And I’m sure we will at some point,” he added.

His sinister tone got my skin crawling and my anger flaring.

God, I’d love to send that smile into the wall…

Crap! No more dark thoughts in case he could read my mind.