Page 51 of Rites of Passage

Giant chandeliers glittered brightlyabove the ballroom at the top of The Azure. Their light washed across the cream, marble pillars framing the rich, parquet floor and reflected prettily off the French mirrors lining the upper galleries running the length of the function room. The place was magnificent. Except Mae hadn’t gotten a chance to appreciate it yet.

They’d been there nearly half an hour and there was still no sign of April Blackwood, the host of tonight’s reception. The High Council hadn’t put in an appearance either. Though a few people had come over to greet the New York coven and pay their respects to Mae, most of the sorcerers and witches were keeping their distance.

From what Bryony had said, until the High Council recognized her as the rightful Witch Queen of prophecy, many would not swear their allegiance to her.

Mae was conscious that they needed to utilize every resource at hand if they were to win the war against the Sorcerer King and his Dark Council. Though she was powerful in her own right, Vedran Borojevic had an ally in the form of Barquiel that could more than match her. And Nikolai’s half-brother Oscar wasn’t to be sneered at either.

She had initially been reticent about coming to Philadelphia for the annual covenstead. Now that she was here, she understood why Bryony would have desired her attendance even if the High Council had not commanded it. They needed to strengthen the existing partnerships Bryony had with the other covens and make new allies that would commit to their cause.

Mae couldn’t suppress the disquiet knotting her belly. An expectant tension shrouded the ballroom, like the calm before a storm. The bad feeling she’d had ever since the ghouls attacked her apartment had gotten stronger since they arrived in Philadelphia.

Brimstone sat next to her, his piercing gaze carefully assessing the people around them.Do not fret, my witch. None here poses a threat to us.

Mae’s fingers tightened on the stem of her champagne flute.I know.But we need their help if we are to defeat Barquiel and the Sorcerer King. I would rather not make enemies of them.

Would you like me to threaten them?Hellreaver asked in a hopeful tone.

Mae grimaced.No.

Brimstone huffed.You are too hot-blooded.

The weapon drooped dejectedly where he hung around her neck.You guys are no fun.

Nikolai scanned the ballroom above his champagne glass. “You could cut the air with a knife.”

“Our covensteads are normally fraught affairs, but even I have never seen it this strained before,” Bryony remarked in a troubled voice.

Mae carefully sipped her drink, all too conscious of the stares being leveled her way. She’d already cast a subtle version ofNullifyand hadn’t identified any black magic users in the crowd.

“Are you sure your friend is okay?” she asked.

“I got a message from April before we came here,” Bryony replied. “She sounded on edge, but fine otherwise.”

Movement near the entrance caught their attention. Barbara Nolan swept inside the ballroom ahead of the Chicago coven delegation. The witch wore an elegant, black dress with a matching cane. A distinguished, middle-aged man in a royal-blue tuxedo and with a ferret in a matching bow perched on his shoulder was acting as her escort. Thorn, Barbara’s terrier familiar, ambled beside them, a black bow similarly tied around his neck.

Mae side-eyed Brimstone.

The familiar grunted.Don’t even think about it.

But you’d look cute.

So would daisies,Brimstone said scathingly.I’m still not wearing one.

Barbara and her entourage nodded at their acquaintances as they made their way over. Bryony introduced the Chicago High Priestess’s companion.

“Mae, this is Armand Duprey, a close friend of ours. He’s the current secretary of the High Council.”

“Enchanté, mademoiselle.” Armand dipped his head courteously. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” He glanced around the ballroom, his brow furrowing faintly. “Although I wish it were under better circumstances.”

Mae didn’t like the sound of that.

From Bryony’s tense expression, neither did she. “Is there something we should know about the High Council meeting tomorrow?”

An awkward expression flitted across Armand’s face. “I’m afraid I cannot divulge the details of the agenda. Suffice to say you need to keep your wits about you.” He studied Mae guardedly. “I would like to ask for your patience and forgiveness in advance,mademoiselle. Know that they mean well, even if they often fail to express themselves that way.”

Mae narrowed her eyes slightly.So, he’s warning us that whatever will be discussed tomorrow has the potential to piss me off.

Brimstone growled faintly beside her.

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