Page 84 of The Witch is Back

It didn’t take a warlock adept with mind magic to pick up on the violent images flickering in there. As Kole was clearly Emma’s favorite brother, Bastian obliged his request.

“I’d say the rake is a bit excessive.” He shrugged. “But the other weapons would do the job.”

Kole smiled.

“Impressive,” intoned the eldest brother, Johannes. He didn’t look impressed. He looked as if he’d sat through a six-hour lecture on the best plants to use for potions. “Is that what you plan to do at the Exhibition?”

“No.” Like with a magnet, his gaze was drawn back to Emma. She looked even paler, if that was possible, and she’d barely eaten anything on her plate. Concern added an edge to his words. “I’m going to be doubling up with your sister.”

“Mouse?” The second-eldest chimed in with a snort. “What can she do?”

Mouse? Bastian’s eyes narrowed. “Plenty” was all he allowed himself to say. After all, he couldn’t get into a fight with Emma’s family. She’d clearly been terrified of this dinner not going well; she’d barely been able to get the invitation out.

He was here to help, not to torture her mother or punch her smirking brothers. Or to telekinetically drop them in the swamp. With some come-get-me gator bait.

“Emma has told me what she plans to do for the Exhibition,” Clarissa interrupted. She sipped her wine, a queen presiding over her court. “I think it’s best if she identifies her power away from you.”

Emma’s eyes went to the table and he saw the white bones of her knuckles as she gripped her fork tighter.

“I’m sure she appreciated the advice,” he said, taking care to sound casual as concern blended with temper, “but that isn’t really your call to make.”

Every sound in the room muted as suddenly as if a vacuum had sucked out the noise.

Emma’s eyes were wide and so dark, he couldn’t tell where the black pupil ended and the brown iris began.

Well, fuck it. He wasn’t scared of Clarissa.

Bring. It. On.

He picked up his glass of wine, his stare direct. He sipped calmly.

“I’m her mother,” Clarissa said, stiff. “I know what’s best for her.”

“She’s not a child anymore,” he pointed out, enjoying the shifting from the Brothers Dim across the way. “She’s going to be a wife.”

“Yes, a position of responsibility. I’ve been training her for it but, as you must have noticed, she is lacking.”

His jaw tensed. Goddess, her daughter was sitting right there, staring at her lap. Kole stiffened beside her, opened his mouth.

Bastian slapped a mental hand across it and Kole’s eyes bulged with annoyance.

But Bastian wasn’t letting this go. He may have had his doubts about Emma’s allegiances, but he would be her husband, her teammate in this game, and there was no way he was letting an enemy player sack his teammate and get off unscathed.

“In what ways?” He cocked his head, his tone a perfect balance of warning and inquiry.

Clarissa’s eyes didn’t move off him. “A Higher family wife must be poised, resplendent, articulate and gracious: a shining example to those beneath her. Emmaline, try as I might to have her do so, has never risen to any of those traits.”

What a bitch.

He took the mental hand away from Kole but sent him a steady look. Kole was furious, but he tipped his chin up with a smirk as if he didn’t believe Bastian would go up against Clarissa.

The old him might have run from the challenge. Taken the easy path. But what did he have to lose now?

“I disagree.” Bastian put his glass on the white tablecloth. “I’ve never found Emma to be less than charming.”

A hint of a glacial smile tipped Clarissa’s mouth. A passing resemblance to a smile, really; it was more of a sneer. “It’s gracious of you to say, Bastian, but we all know you’re contracted to marry her. We all know she was fortunate to have a mother looking out for her interests—or are you saying you’d choose to marry her? That you came back from Africa because you couldn’t bear being away a minute longer?”

He seriously wanted to put the hurt on this woman, even without the hex and Joining stuff. Maybe he could conjure a nightmare. He hadn’t done it since he was a prank-loving kid, but some things were like riding a broom.

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