Page 21 of The Witch is Back

Emma twisted her hands together, chest tight.

Clarissa’s breath whistled through her teeth. “He’s back, Emmaline. Do you understand that? We get a chance to finally follow through with this marriage and get everything we’ve wanted. You might finally be useful, but only if you don’t run him off again.”

Bastian wasn’t going anywhere, not while his mom was sick. But Emma didn’t raise that, just nodded.

“That means dressing like a woman a man like Bastian would want.” Clarissa’s eyes raked down her body. “This doesn’t show off your figure, it positively reeks of mourning and it is not something a Truenote née a Bluewater would wear.”

“Sorry, Mother.”

“You know I do this for the family. It’s for all of us.”

Emma had her doubts about that but took the path of least resistance and continued to nod.

Clarissa examined her dress again with obvious distaste. “If society hadn’t already seen you wearing that funeral sack, I’d fix it. As it is, for any event in the future, I want you to report to the mansion first so I can approve of the outfit. No mistakes can be made. All eyes will be on you.”

A headache pounded behind Emma’s eyes. She’d known that the engagement becoming official would be the talk of the witch world—they’d all been waiting on it for decades. But to hear it said so baldly was like sticking her hand into frog spawn. Completely sickening. And, just like frog spawn for certain potions, the engagement was completely necessary.

“Now, we don’t have much time,” Clarissa continued, pacing up and down the short runner provided between two facing couches. “The Divining could begin as soon as tomorrow once the High Family are called on to do the spell. So I want you to remember the family in everything you do. Try and emphasize the powerful traits. In fact, I’m not sure you shouldn’t come back to the mansion now Bastian has returned.”

Panic slapped out. “No.”

Clarissa stopped midstep. Her head turned, one eyebrow raised. “No?” she echoed.

Emma balled her hands, nails sinking into her palms as she dragged up a breath. “Bastian said—he said he wanted to see Chicago,” she improvised. “With me. Bonding. And all that.”

“Hmm.” Clarissa’s eyebrow retreated next to its twin. “He always was peculiar. Maybe you two were destined for each other.” She shook her head and continued to pace. “Fine. Then you’ll stay where you are, but stay alert. I will not have you embarrass the family any more than you already have by driving off the boy in the first place. Practice your magic: essentials, potions, hexes. And get a haircut, I can see seventeen split ends from here.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“And for the Goddess’s sake, speak as little as possible. Nobody wants a fool who can barely get above a whisper in the family, not when she doesn’t even bring substantial powers into the mix.” Clarissa cast her eyes to the heavens. “I curse your father for leaving me in charge of this family. At least your brothers have the gift in spades. You, unfortunately, take after your father too much.”

How right she was. Her dad had been an expert at keeping secrets, if nothing else. Sloane was the best example of that.

Clarissa held out a hand and a silver compact adorned with the Bluewater crest appeared in it. She handed it out. “This is a direct line to me. I want you to give me an update any time a Divining brand presents itself.”

Emma nudged her legs into moving, slowly bringing herself to Clarissa’s side. She reached for the compact and Clarissa’s magic snapped out, locking her in place. Immediately she felt the drain, a consequence of the leech power her mother had hidden from their world. She always used it as punishment, ever since Emma had been young. It felt as though someone was tugging on her insides, stretching to the point of pain. If Clarissa continued, soon Emma’s nerve endings would be screaming. Her breath came in small pants but she forced herself still. Struggling wouldn’t do any good.

Clarissa waited a good ten seconds for Emma to feel the warning before she delivered a vocal one. “Don’t screw this up, Emmaline. Flatter him. Obey him. Fuck the boy if you have to, but don’t let him leave again.”

Shock rooted Emma to the spot at the crude suggestion.

Clarissa pressed the compact into her hand and released the magic. “Your brothers have made the family name shine. Now it’s your turn. Don’t disappoint me.”

Emma had never been so thrilled to breathe Chicago air. As soon as she stepped foot out of the portal, Tia threw up her arms.

“Dude, what the hell?” Before Emma could speak, she shook her head. “No, wait. We need Leah and we need some Cauldron cosmos.”

Emma had opened the portal directly into her office, so all Tia had to do was tow her through the back and out front to the bar. Emma tossed the mirror behind her as they left. If it was a direct line to Clarissa, chances were she could eavesdrop.

It was past two in the morning. The bar was closed, but Leah would still be cashing out the register and wiping down. Sure enough, when they came down the passageway, Leah sat on a stool, a stack of bills and a large glass of ice water in front of her.

“You’re not going to believe this,” Tia announced as they strode in.

Leah’s stool wobbled as she flinched and let out a muted yip of alarm before she recognized them. “Hell, guys.” Her hand flew to her chest as she breathed out. “Next time get a gun. It’d be faster.”

Tia pointed to the stool next to Leah. “Sit, Emma.”

Leah eyed Emma as she obediently rounded the bar to hoist herself next to Leah. “Well? How did it go?”

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