Page 42 of Rites of Passage

“They’re meeting with their family.” Bryony’s brow furrowed. “It appears someone switched our reservations.”

Suspicion bloomed in the back of Mae’s mind. She turned to Vlad. “Wait. Did you—?”

A voice cut through the brouhaha from their right.

“What do you mean, the Royal Suite is taken?!” someone snapped. “We booked it months ago!”

CHAPTER20

An immaculately dressedwitch in her fifties with dark hair, gray eyes, and a raccoon at her feet was glaring at one of the front desk staff. A similar-aged sorcerer with a frog and a blonde witch with a Siamese cat stood next to her, their expressions similarly irate and a retinue of attendants hovering anxiously behind them.

Mae’s pulse quickened. She could tell the two witches and the sorcerer were at the same level as Bryony from their magic cores.

“Shit.” She cast an accusing look at Vlad. “You did, didn’t you?”

Nikolai scowled, his distrustful gaze swinging between the two of them. “What’d the asshole do now?”

“I booked the Royal Suite for us.” Vlad arched an eyebrow at their stares. “What?”

Bryony glanced at the fuming witch and leaned closer. “Did you cancel their reservation?!”

Vlad’s mouth tilted in a beguiling smile. “Let’s just say I overwrote it. And you’re welcome.”

Abraham’s left eye started to twitch. The aide looked like he was close to having a meltdown.

“Ah, Mr. Vissarion.”

They turned. A man wearing an expensive suit and a deferential expression had exited an elevator and was making his way toward them.

“We’re so pleased to welcome you and your guests to The Azure.” He dipped his head respectfully. “If you’d like to follow me, I’ll guide you to the Royal Suite.”

Mae stared.Is he the manager?

The dark-haired witch’s head snapped around where she was looming over the distraught front desk employee. “Wait!” She stormed over to them. “Did you just say the Royal Suite?!”

Suit Guy flashed her an affable smile. “Why, yes. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’m sure my staff will see to your needs.”

The witch bristled at his dismissive tone.

The sorcerer accompanying her joined them. “I believe there’s been a mistake.” His gaze swept their group, lingered fractionally on Mae, and settled on Bryony. “You know as well as I do that the Royal Suite was reserved for the exclusive use of the High Council.”

Bryony lifted her chin at his supercilious tone. “I’m aware of that, Gerard. Unfortunately, this matter is out of my hands.”

She indicated Vlad.

Mae squinted.Is she gloating?

Abraham swallowed a sigh.There was no mistaking the jubilant gleam that had darted in Bryony’s eyes. The New York High Priestess was thoroughly enjoying this unexpected development.

Mae studied the sorcerer who’d spoken and the outraged witch huffing and puffing beside him.

He must be Gerard Mosele, the High Priest of the Orlando coven.And she’s Ephra Erwin, the head of the Houston coven.

The blonde witch made her way over.

“What’s the problem?” she said coolly.

Her face hardened when she spotted Mae. Her familiars didn’t look any better.

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