Page 123 of The Witch is Back

Bastian grabbed her arms. “Mom, I’m—In the garden, I just heard—” His chest jerked with ragged breaths and his expression could only be called wild.

Diana put her arms around her son. “Shh. Calm yourself. We’ll go somewhere private.”

“No.” Bastian pulled back. “I just heard...” He cut off abruptly, one hand flying to his throat. He opened his mouth, wheezed, shut it again with a look of horror.

“Silencing hex,” Emma whispered, horror sinking into her bones. “Goddess.”

Everything was coming together in excruciating detail.

And suddenly she was ripped out of the memory, a tornado of sensation hitting her as she once again felt the slight give of the carpet beneath her feet, the sturdiness of the wall at her back. The cold, though, the cold stayed with her. She wondered if she’d ever be warm again.

She summoned her courage and lifted her head to see Bastian staring at her, denial alternating with horror on his face.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said hoarsely. “But the spell...it drove me into your mind.”

The chill of the past slid one finger down Emma’s nape.

He shook his head, one hand passing over his mouth. “I saw the night again...but I saw it from your side. Because you were there.” He dropped onto the bed as if his knees would no longer support him. But his eyes, his eyes locked on her face. Almost pleading with her to tell him he was wrong. “It was you. You cast the silencing hex.”

Emma squeezed her eyes briefly shut before opening them to face the consequences of what she had wrought. “Yes.”

CHAPTER 25

Too many thoughts and feelings assaulted Bastian, like he was being stoned to death with them. Each hit with different pressure, each felt like a burn that wouldn’t end.

Emma stood braced against the wall, a lovely slip of a woman he’d let down his final wall for because he’d thought she’d finally told him everything. Bitterness washed up his throat. What an ass he was.

“Why?” he managed, the word more of a raw sound.

She flinched but continued to face him. So brave, he’d once thought. Soft petals disguising steel. Now he marveled at the idea she had anything soft about her at all. She deserved an Oscar for the way she’d played him all these years. The way she’d played him moments ago, giving him just enough without revealing the whole truth.

“Your mother would be proud,” he said, sending the darts of poison her way and delighting when she cringed. “Playing me so well.”

“I didn’t play you.” Her voice was like a sigh, utterly quiet. As if she was the victim.

He wasn’t having it. “You did this to me. You know, my parents still think of me as selfish because of you. Poor Emmaline,” he sneered, ignoring the way his gut twisted as she whitened. “You have society fooled as well.”

“Can I explain?”

“You mean lie to me some more?”

“I didn’t lie.”

“You sure as hell didn’t tell the truth.” He exploded up and gripped his head, almost wishing he’d never done the mind-meld. Wishing he could go back to ten minutes ago, when he’d been happy. Looking forward.

He heard a plaintive meow and looked down to see Hallie had bravely entered the fray. Their bond was new, but he must be pumping distress out like a generator. He picked her up and cradled her, allowing the small vibration of her purr to keep him centered.

“Fine,” he said, sitting again, curling his lip at the way Emma placed one hand on Chester’s head. As if she needed comfort. “Spin me a story.”

She bit her lip and looked away, but the next second brought her gaze back. It was haunted and he didn’t like what it did to him, seeing her like that. He refused to feel sorry for her.

“It all...” She took a breath. “It all started when our dad died. You remember my mother refused to mourn or let us grieve. Well, Kole and I decided to make a project, a tribute of sorts, of going through his papers, finding his hidey-holes where he kept things from Mother. We all had them, but my dad was the best—next to Kole, who has a talent for finding lost things.” Bastian remained silent as one of her hands lifted to toy with her necklace. “About a month before...before,” she finished with a flicker of guilt, “we found a letter to Dad which he’d concealed with a lockpicking spell—only obvious if you know what to look for. I did. The letter was from a woman. A human. She was writing to tell Dad that her sister had died in childbirth.” She met Bastian’s gaze and took one long breath. “The baby was his daughter.”

The truth clicked into place. “Sloane.”

She nodded slowly. “Our half sister.”

“A human.” He blinked, trying to wrap his mind around that. There hadn’t been a half human, half witch that he knew of in decades. “Does she know?”

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