Page 31 of The Witch and The Blood Oath (The Witch and The Cowboy #2)

Freya

M onths ago, I would’ve found my own words repulsive, but that was before the High Witch had manipulated me into her schemes. It was before she had nearly killed my familiar and my young coven member.

Now, Cordelia would understand the wrath of a Redfern witch. If that lesson required me to turn to the dark witches to teach it, I would do it.

I would do anything.

Silence stretched between Mara and me. Her obsidian eyes studied me for a long time, no doubt taking in the dirty clothes, unkempt hair, and, honestly, the scent of my unwashed body. I let her see just how far I had fallen.

Desperation made witches dangerous.

I was very, very dangerous.

“I see,” Mara crooned. “Her rules are harder to swallow when it’s those you love she’s asking you to sacrifice to uphold them.”

“She took my mate,” Ryder snapped. “Do you know how to find her or not?”

Mara tilted her head and examined him closer.

“Now that,” she said and tapped a finger against her lips, “is interesting.”

“Do witches ever answer a question directly?” Walker muttered.

Mara tutted. “So impatient. Honey, you’ll need to learn a bit more decorum if you’re going to be a warlock.”

I balked. “You know about warlocks?”

Mara strutted forward.

“Shouldn’t you? ” she said and inhaled sharply through her nose. A toothy grin stretched her lips. “You’ve been to the Warlock Cave. It’s where you learned you can share.”

She licked her lips and gestured between Walker and me.

“Gross,” Cady muttered.

I swallowed my revulsion for the dark witch and considered the significance of her words. In the craziness of our hunt for Elle, I hadn’t taken much time to consider what we had learned in the cave—the Warlock Cave. The magical place had painted a picture of warlocks and witches working together. It had shown how they could share their power.

“That’s what an Anchor bond is,” I realized, “that’s why Walker’s and my magic respond to each other—they’re connected. We can share our power.”

All coven members had some affinity to share magic, but I had never been able to wield another’s element before. Even now, Walker’s lightning simmered like liquid fire in my veins.

“Sure,” Mara said and rolled her eyes. “That’s all there is to an Anchor bond.”

I wanted to question her further, but Ryder grew impatient.

“Do you know how to get into the court?” Ryder barked. “Or were your plans in the spring all talk and no follow-through?”

Mara’s gaze flicked to Ryder then slithered to Walker. Down and up, she studied the cowboy’s tall, broad form. Her leer stirred my anger.

“Magic suits you,” Mara purred and looked at me. “I see why you’ve lost all your morals, Redfern. He’s… electric.”

With pure speed and strength and outright will, Ryder leaped upon the Coven Mother of the dark witches and gripped her by the throat. Alpha power—stuffy and thick—clogged my throat and dulled the very magic in my veins.

All Alphas wielded an innate control over less dominate wolves, but I had never heard of one being able to control magic.

Well, maybe one can, but that’s impossible…

Mara’s ragged breaths pulled me from the thoughts. Though I thought seeing the mighty Coven Mother at Ryder’s mercy would be gratifying, it unsettled me.

“Tell me how to find her,” Ryder demanded, “ now.”

Careful to avoid the claws gripping her throat, Mara offered the barest of nods. As Ryder set her down, his Alpha magic dissipated, and we took a collective breath.

“Come inside,” Mara ordered and turned on her heel. “Voices carry on the wind.”

Ryder followed her without another word. Walker hesitated, but Cadence tugged on his hand pulled him closer to the dark witches.

As I followed Mara into her house of bones, I cast my magic like a web and tested for wards. As soon as the house’s leader approached, her traps disabled. There was no tension in the air and no warning signs that the wards would snap into place.

Trusting that Mara would be willing to ally herself with just about anyone to strike the High Witch, I followed her inside. Back in kitty form, Arion was close on my heels.

The dark witches’ home was decadence incarnate. Several bone-white chandeliers cast the mahogany floors and broad, curved staircase in sultry light. Burgundy carpets lined the hall, and the musty scent of antiques and roses lingered in the air. The rest of Mara’s coven followed us inside on silent feet. In their home, they moved as gracefully as shadows.

“Come,” Mara purred, “sit.”

Against the curve of the stairs was a plush couch, which faced an ornate coffee table and elegantly crafted chairs. While Walker, Cady, and I sat on the couch, Mara’s followers poured into line around the perimeter of the room. Mara and Ryder hesitated to sit.

Their mind games irritated me.

“Ryder,” I said gently, “let’s not delay this conversation further.”

Without breaking Mara’s gaze, he sat. Mara smiled smugly, and I bit my tongue to keep from reminding her of the scene outside and who had emerged victorious then.

“The High Witch’s court is hidden between the dimensions of this world,” Mara explained.

I loosed a breath. I was eager to get to the point of our visit, though I also wanted to pry what information I could from Mara regarding warlocks.

“Yes,” I said. “That’s what legend says. How do we access it?”

She gestured to one of her followers lining the wall. The young, blonde witch with the ability to multiply hurried over to a bar I hadn’t noticed in the corner of the room. Ice clinked against glass, and my patience grew thin. Ryder growled.

Once the martini was securely in Mara’s outstretched hand, the Coven Mother took a sip and smiled.

“It’s like trying to get Dad to talk,” Cadence muttered, and her brother chided her. The girl’s dark humor knew no bounds.

“As I was saying,” she finally continued, “one must be able to find a fold of sorts in time and space to access it. A ripple, if you will.”

Ryder gripped his chair with white knuckles.

“Alright,” Walker said. “How do we find one of those?”

Mara sighed. “Must I explain everything to you?”

Ryder’s voice was garbled by too many teeth. “Where?”

Mara ignored him and focused on me.

“Why do you think so many magical creatures have cloistered together on these mountains?”

“The land is rich with magic,” I easily recited then balked. “There’s…there’s a ripple here?”

Like a fool, I searched the room again, as if I could see it. Walker cursed under his breath, and Mara tittered.

“Ripples are infused with the magic of many worlds and many timelines,” Mara explained. “That is why there are pockets of places on this earth that are richer than others.”

“New Orleans has a ripple,” Walker guessed.

Mara smirked. “You’re not the bumbling idiot I met months ago.”

Lightning danced on Walker’s skin. “No. I’m not.”

Dear Goddess, that's hot.

My skin flushed, and Mara’s gaze darted to mine. I waited for her mockery, but it didn’t come. She simply cocked a finely plucked brow.

“Where exactly is the ripple?” Cady asked.

“What are you going to do when you find it?” Mara asked me.

I swallowed.

“I’m going to wrestle the chimera from Cordelia's grasp,” I said, “and I’m going to expose her mistreatment of innocents.”

Mara sighed and took a sip of her martini. “How painfully disappointing.”

I grinded my teeth in frustration.

“What would you have me do?” I asked her. “Steal her crown?”

“You’re not asking the right questions,” Mara said.

"Here's a good question, then," I snapped, "how have you evaded Cordelia's wrath? Surely, she knows of your ill-fated rebellion."

"I possess a weapon from which even the great and powerful High Witch balks," Mara purred.

"What?" Ryder asked quietly.

"The truth." With her dark eyes on mine, Mara leaned closer. “Why does Cordelia want the chimera? Why did your mother spare the creature?”

As my suspicions were confirmed, hope and dread warred inside me. If my mother had spared the chimera, saving Elle was the right thing to do. If I failed to undo my actions, however, I would be failing to follow through on one of my mother’s few acts against the High Witch.

Or were there more I didn’t know of?

She had never spoken of the chimera or of warlocks, yet she had played a hand in Elle's fate before, and it had been the ancient language she’d taught me etched into the Warlock Cave.

I had always taken comfort in being the vault of her secrets, but there were things about my mother I did not know. There were things she had kept from me.

I bit the inside of my lip to distract myself from the pang in my chest.

“Elle,” I said, “the chimera, didn’t think the High Witch was necessarily after her, but rather using her to go after something—someone—worse. Someone who spoke to her as a child.”

“What?” Walker said, and I cringed. I had forgotten to share that tidbit in the last day’s chaos.

“So, you have learned some things,” Mara conceded. “What are you going to do about them?”

“Something,” I snapped. “I’m going to do something, which is far more than anyone else is doing! I’m going to take the thing the High Witch wants most—the chimera. Isn’t that enough for you?”

Mara studied me, gulped down the rest of her martini, popped an olive into her mouth, and swallowed.

“It will have to be enough for now,” she said. “The ripple is concealed on the doorsteps of these lands’ overseers.”

“No way,” Cady said, “the ripple is on our property?”

Mara smiled at her. “Indeed.”

“I think I would’ve noticed if I lived on a magical ripple in time and space,” Walker argued.

“You didn’t notice your neighbors are witches, wolves, and vamps,” I reminded him, though I was skeptical.

Hol Creek was rich with magic, but it was hard to believe I had grown up near a ripple without ever knowing.

“How do we use it to get to the court?” Ryder asked.

Mara checked her glimmering black nails, which were filed into talons.

“Unfortunately,” she drawled, “only Clyde Reid knows that.”

Ryder snarled, and Walker paled. Cady’s sad face made my jaw clench, and I took a deep breath.

“You never knew the answer to our question,” I said, “yet you’ve made us posture here for far too long. Why?”

I readied my magic in case of an attack, but Mara and her followers remained still.

“I told you where to find your answers.” Mara sighed. “Youth today are so ungrateful.”

“My dad is in a coma because of you and your vampire friends,” Walker said in a low, dangerous voice.

His magic crackled in the air, and mine danced on my skin, desperate to answer it. The battle had exhausted most of the magic Walker had shared, and my own power was eager for more of his.

“I heard about that,” Mara said casually. “It’s rather unfortunate what happened, but you know vampires. They can be a bit…bloodthirsty.”

Mara and her cohorts chuckled in unison. Their callousness stirred my rage, and I fought to control the magic thrumming under my skin. My friends shifted, and the tension in the room was palpable.

“That’s it?” Ryder demanded. “That’s all you have to offer?”

Mara’s sultry smile was replaced by a stone-cold glare. She looked at Ryder like he was a bug she wanted to squash.

“You come to my house,” she said, “ask me for information, and dare insult me because I haven’t made all this easier for you? Get out.”

None of us moved. Dark, oily magic slithered across my skin like a snake.

Mara rose, and her followers crept closer.

“Get. Out.”

With Arion taking the lead, we rushed outside and into the dark, safe comfort of night. Though it was bitterly cold, no one complained. No one spoke until we were halfway down the mountain, far from Mara and her coven of dark witches.

Ryder opened the conversation with a string of curses.

“What are we going to do now?” he grumbled and gestured to Walker. “Your dad’s as useless in death as he was in life.”

“Hey,” Walker barked, “he’s not dead, asshole. And he got hurt fighting on our side, remember?”

Ryder’s only answer was to growl and pace.

“We can try to wake him up?” Cadence suggested.

I shook my head. “I-I know that’s what you want, but we’ve been trying for months. I’m not sure what we could do differently.”

Walker ran a hand through his hair. “Damn it, it’s just so frustrating. You figured out how to bring me back to life, but we can’t wake him up.”

Ryder paused. “You’re right.”

Walker shot him an incredulous look, but my stomach sank. Walker noticed the dread on my face, and his jaw dropped. Hope lit Cady’s face.

“We couldn’t…” Walker began and cleared his throat. “We couldn’t make him a warlock, could we?”

“No,” I said firmly. “It’s too risky.”

Ryder scoffed. “Risky? The guy’s a vegetable!”

Lightning danced on Walker’s skin, and Cady’s magic buzzed.

“You got a pass for your earlier comment because you’re sad and pretty,” she threatened, “you won’t get another shot at insulting my family.”

Surprisingly, Ryder’s shoulders sunk, and he waved his hands in surrender.

“Sorry, rugrat,” he said.

“Though Clyde has remained unconscious,” I said, “we could deal him a much worse fate by trying to transform him. We could turn him into a monster.”

“But you changed Walker,” Cadence argued. “If anyone can save him, it’s you, Freya.”

Pressure and fear built in my chest.

“Dad wouldn’t want to lay in a bed the rest of his life,” Walker said softly. “Like you said, nothing else has helped. I think transforming him is worth a shot.”

I studied the furrow between his brow and the soft sparks of hope brimming in his gaze. Cadence stared at me like I could grant her heart’s greatest desire. Every day Clyde laid in that bed was another day of disappointment for the Reid siblings.

My voice was small. “We can try.”