Page 83 of Last Gift: Supernatural Battle

I wasn’t sure whether making that statement about the original coven to myself and the occupants of this room was smart or stupid. She’d been leader this long, so I was inclined toward the smart option, and regardless, I respected that she showed strength and moral caliber even when outnumbered.

I inclined my head. “My deepest thanks, High Esteemed. If your people are called upon, we will do our utmost to keep them safe. We are holding training sessions geared toward demon combat. If they are interested in joining those, please let us know.”

“They will be. I’ll have my minions speak to yours.”

I smiled at Barrow’s muffled grunt behind me. “A pleasure, High Esteemed.”

“The same to you.” She sounded surprised.

Nightlock closed the portal, and I faced my advisors. “We have Frond’s motive.”

Ruby was about as furious as I’d ever seen her. “I can’t believe it. You should hear him talking—all indignant about how you’re doing this, that, and the other, while he makes deals with another coven to take over leadership.” Her face colored. “We won’t accept him. Everyone should know about this betrayal.”

“I’d like that too.” I walked back to my authority. “Varden, what are our options?”

“You only have hearsay,” he confirmed my direction of thought. “Your options would be to search Frond’s quarters, place him under a truth charm or serum, or to place him on trial. The latter two options require some strong evidence of guilt to be set in motion. The first is possible, and yet if you find nothing in his quarters, then Frond will use the encounter to further his cause. Frond is many detestable things, but he is not a fool.”

No, he’d be keeping anything incriminating in the rooms of his magus mob.

“So we do nothing?” Delta said, her hand curling to a fist.

Frond had more traction than I was comfortable with. Too late to regret not dealing with Frond from the outset. Like the others, I hadn’t expected him to betray us to this extent. If I had, then I might’ve felt less lenient about allowing him a voice in the coven. “We watch the situation for now. An opportunity will appear to bring our accusations forward.”

Huxley scoffed. “That’s it? He’s trying to usurp you, and that’s the reaction?”

“I’m open to other suggestions.”

“Kick him the fuck out.”

It was tempting. “Without hard evidence and a firm belief in a magus’s lack of remorse and lack of intent to make amends to the coven or injured party, then I won’t exile any coven member.” Frond may like to form mobs. I did not. Everyone was treated fairly—even those I couldn’t stand.

“Then you’re giving him far more than he’s giving you, and it’s going to kick you in the ass when you least expect it.” Huxley ignored the shocked looks from some of the others.

Huxley hated Frond for reasons beyond this betrayal.

“That could happen,” I agreed. “If it does, then I’ll be consoled by knowing that I didn’t sink to Frond’s level. I don’t wish to set a precedent in the coven that I can’t continue if another coven member were to break a law in the future. I won’t kick out magus based on how I feel or what the situation appears to be. There must be proof and no possibility of a solution.”

Huxley didn’t reply, just shook his head.

Was I making the right choice? I didn’t know. “Barrow, Opal, please extend our sincere apologies to the covens who rescinded their support. Let them know that subterfuge wasn’t our goal, and we will always appreciate their initial offer of aid.”

“You mean that?” Delta asked.

“When you only have shit to throw…,” I replied, my lips curving. “I understand that magus prefer to be closed off, and that’s a hard mindset to challenge.”

I’d expected more of Rguc, but there was no point crying over it.

However tempting.

There was a knock at the door. Good. I was about done with bad news today. I waved a hand to admit the person.

Rooke was on the other side with her hand still raised.

“Could I have a word, High Esteemed?” She skirted a look at the others.

“You can. Please keep me updated,” I told Barrow and Opal.

The advisors trickled out, all except Huxley, who believed himself better than the rest.

---