Page 34

AMbrOSE

T he last few days have been trying. After Piper and I got the note about the next trial, we had to wait for Amanda’s father to come get her. Her family moved out of town several years ago, but this isn’t the first time Amanda has shown up on my front stoop.

Piper has been distant since the incident.

I hate everything about what happened. The way my curse works.

The fact that there are women out there I kissed before I knew what my curse was.

Even now, I question my behavior over the years.

Maybe I should have become a monk after I figured out what was happening.

Instead, it was like my curse became a challenge I had to overcome, and I turned to fucking any woman who smiled in my direction.

Not kissing them. I never crossed that line after I found out.

The curses in this town make no fucking sense.

Piper’s curse physically debilitates her.

Mine hurts other people. If I was an asshole, I could go about my life without giving two shits about how my curse impacts others.

But I can’t get the picture out of my head of Amanda’s manic eyes as she petted me.

The way Rebecca sobbed as she was dragged out of the Hollows that night.

And now Piper has seen the consequences of my actions.

I hate how that might change her view of me. How could it not?

Our invitation to the next trial instructed us to appear at sunset on the evening of the witching moon.

A witching moon is a particularly powerful magical night.

It happens once a year in the spring. It’s a time of renewal and rebirth.

The pull of the moon is more powerful, and our magic burns a little brighter on this night.

Historically, the night of the witching moon has been a reason for us to go out and party.

There’s extra sexy energy in the air that amounts to a good time had by all.

Instead, we’re headed toward the Tenebris coven house for our next council trial.

The last thing I want is to spend the witching moon with Tucker Beaumont and my fucking mother.

Already I feel the influence of the coming moon.

The sun hasn’t even set, but that’s how powerful this night is.

I can’t keep my eyes off Piper. She’s wearing jeans and a green sweater that shows hints of her stomach every time she lifts her arm.

I haven’t touched her since the morning of the storm.

I’ve been giving her space because I know she’s unsettled by what she saw.

That doesn’t mean my fingers don’t itch to find the sliver of space between her sweater and jeans.

To tug up the hem and expose more of her creamy skin and taste every inch of her body until she’s trembling and moaning my name.

It’s getting harder to tamp down those urges as the days go by.

“Are we going to drive around in circles, or are you going to park?” Piper asks, chuckling gently and pulling me out of my daydream.

“What?” Shit. I realize I’ve driven past the coven house.

“This is the fourth time you’ve gone around the block. There’s a spot right there and another over there.” Piper points to open parking spaces and I curse under my breath.

“Sorry, I’m distracted. Witching moon. Coven trials,” I mumble, as if she’s not the one who truly has me distracted.

“What do you think this trial will be?” Piper gathers her hair from behind her neck and pulls it over her shoulder. The red strands burn like fire. It’s a silken fall of crimson that contrasts so beautifully with her skin.

“I don’t know, but I’m ready to be done with it.”

Piper nods and we get out of the car. The coven house reminds me a bit of a miniature White House.

With columns and classical style architecture.

Odie is waiting for us out front, leaning against a pillar.

Her long, nearly white-blonde hair is being whipped around by the wind.

Roman pulls up a moment later. He gets out of his car and stares at the house with his arms crossed. We’re all thrilled to be here.

The coven house is three stories with a glass greenhouse on the roof that was built to grow herbs and plants during the winter. That’s where we’ve been instructed to meet for our challenge. We climb the steps like a group of delinquent teens being sent to the principal's office.

The staircase that leads to the roof is narrow and definitely doesn’t adhere to ADA code.

Odie and Roman go first and I lead Piper in front of me, getting an eyeful of her luscious ass as she takes each step.

As if sensing the direction of my gaze, Piper throws me a questioning look over her shoulder.

“Eyes up here.” Piper gestures north of her ass, but her hand stops near her breast. I cock my head. “If you say so.”

She makes an exasperated sound.

The door to the roof is industrial metal and heavy as hell. It screeches in resistance as Roman pushes it open. The glass conservatory fills up much of the southern half of the roof. It’s a beautiful structure made of glass and wood with copper cladding.

Piper’s eyes go wide as we step inside the enclosure.

This must be heaven for her. I know how much she loves to create drafts and potions.

The glass building smells of damp earth.

Along the outside are shelves and shelves of plants and herbs.

Vines crawl up the glass walls and curl around the industrial style light fixtures that hang down.

There are workbenches with wooden counters that have been pushed to the outside of the room.

In the center is a long table that isn’t typically here.

It’s laden with food and drink of all kinds.

There are roasted chickens, every form of potato, biscuits, and twenty different kinds of cheese.

There’s an entire spread of sliced meats, olives, and dried fruit.

Meatballs covered in a cream sauce sit next to a platter of flaky pastries.

In the center of the table are jugs of lemonade, wine, and even sangria.

Lucida is standing at the head of the table, wearing her usual long, floaty skirt and a knitted sweater that was probably her grandmother’s.

The other coven council likelies stand in little pockets around the greenhouse.

Francesca, Anastasia, and Tucker are near the head of the table where Lucida has taken up her post. My mother is wandering around the room, touching different plants as if they’re speaking to her.

She doesn’t have Earth magic, so it’s all for show.

Once again, it appears we’re the last to arrive.

“Excellent.” Lucida claps her hands together. “It looks like we’re finally all here.” She doesn’t go so far as to look at her watch, but there’s an implied you’re late in her words.

“Tonight’s challenge will not only test your mettle, but also your ability to observe and recognize magic.

” She waves her hand over the table overflowing with food.

“Most of these items have been infused with a potion. Some are harmless, others are not. Some are just plain old food. In order to leave this room. You will need to eat or drink something. It’s up to you to decide which item is safe for consumption and which will cause harm. ”

“Well, this is fun.” I look at the platters of fruit and cheese, loads of crusty bread and pitchers of wine, both white and red. They could all kill us.

Piper’s eyes are calculating. She stares at the table, cataloging each item as if she can already sense which potion has been used in each.

Lucida looks out the top of the glass ceiling, where the sun is setting, leaving streaks of orange and pink in the sky.

“You’ll have thirty minutes to pick your poison. Or not.” With that, Lucida saunters away. The door of the greenhouse clicks shut behind her with the definitive sound of a lock bolting in place. Of course it’s not just a deadbolt keeping us in here. Magic hums around us, a spell trapping us inside.

Roy Turner moves straight toward the door, placing his hand on the knob. He’s thrown back with the violent force that sends him sprawled on his ass. He stands up, rubbing his butt, laughter in his eyes. “It was worth a try.”

“Well, that settles that.” Roman frowns down at the table full of food. “Anyone want to take the first bite?”

Piper doesn’t move forward. She’s watching the others in the room.

I won’t eat until she does. I’m not going to leave her behind.

Not that I think she wouldn’t be able to suss out the poison, but thoughts of leaving her in here with Tucker make my skin crawl.

Francesca huffs and moves toward the table. Anastasia sticks close to her side.

“Stand back,” Francesca barks when Anastasia comes a little bit too close.

Francesca picks up a grape, smells it, and pops it into her mouth.

She moves toward the door and exits without another word.

Anastasia picks another grape from the vine and shoves it into her mouth.

She smirks as she heads toward the door, only to fall to her knees and then collapse face first onto the cement ground.

The smack is loud.

“Someone should check on her.” Hannah King frowns. Roman would probably rather throw her off the roof than bother to check if she’s alive.

Hannah sighs and steps over to Anastasia. Crouching down beside her, she places two fingers on her neck and checks for a pulse. Anastasia has a reputation, not only in our coven, but in Mystic Hollows. She’s not well liked.

“She’s breathing,” Hannah says.

And now she’s out of the competition. What a shame.

Hannah stands up and dusts off her hands on her jeans. She walks away and leaves Anastasia where she lies. She did more than I’m willing to do for the woman.