Page 65 of Curses and Cauldrons

“Ah, but you weren’t doing that to please me. You only did it for Penelope.”

“Yes. Another of your daughters that’s being used as a tool. A bargaining chip to control someone else.” I shake my head, a disbelieving sound coming from my throat. “The funny thing is, I would have done it all without that blackmail. If only you’d been kind. If you’d been loving. I never needed more than that.”

“You never deserved more than you got.”

“Why?” I laugh at the same question coming out again and again. “Did I deserve the punishments you and dad inflicted? Did I deserve to have you steal my magic every month?”

My mother’s face pales, even through the glamor. “Who’s been filling your head with such nonsense?”

I gape at her. The audacity.

“Was it because you needed my power?” I push. Maybe what I’ve been thinking about the Maiden, Mother, and Crone is true. Maybe because our coven is only honoring the Maiden, they are weakened.

She laughs, holding her stomach as though I’ve told a hilarious joke. “I did it because I could.”

I’m astounded by how quickly she went from denial to insult. Although, I should know better.

“I’m double parked. The snow’s really starting to come down…” Roman walks through the front door, his voice trailing off as he sees my mother grinning at me. The look on my face is the polar opposite.

My mother throws her head back and laughs again, practically wheezing in her hysterics. “Oh, this is rich. My innocent daughter is fucking a Blackthorn. Now I know why you’re suddenly questioning your mother and your family. Your very coven. It’s shameful.”

Roman’s face is dark, shadows seeping off his body, ready to beat back any threat to me. The silent support means more than I can put into words. It’s an injection of steel into my spine.

“I’m right here, Jo,” Roman says, as though he knows the direction of my thoughts.

“Oh, I’m sure you are, Blackthorn. Does your coven know you’re sullying yourself with the enemy?”

“Which one of us should be ashamed?” My clipped voice pulls my mother’s attention back to me. “Is he slumming it? Oram I? Or maybe it doesn’t matter because this feud between our covens is bullshit.”

Francesca’s chin tips up, and she glares at me before a slow smile breaks out on her face. “Here’s what’s going to happen next. You’re going to bring my dear darling Penelope back home. Don’t think I didn’t notice that she disappeared with you last night. Then you’re going to go back to being an obedient daughter and put all this nonsense behind you.” She doesn’t say “or else,” but it’s implied.

Her hand drags down my arm as she walks past me. Before I shrug free from her grip, Roman is there. He tears my mother’s hand off me, holding her wrist tight as he leans down to snarl in her face. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Got a taste for the Delvauxs? A shame you picked the most pathetic of the bunch.” She lays her free hand on his chest.

Is she trying to seduce him? I’m simultaneously grossed out and embarrassed for her.

Roman laughs in her face. “I would rather gnaw off my own foot than climb into bed with you.”

“As if that was on the table. I’ll see you at work on Monday, Josephine. Because I’m so magnanimous, I’ll let Penelope spend the weekend with you, but don’t test me. I think you know I don’t do well with disobedience.” With that comment, she walks out of my apartment, her hips swaying like sex actually is on the table, and Roman might be interested.

The door clicks shut with the finality of an executioner's blade. My apartment feels tainted by my mother’s presence.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

34

ROMAN

“Idon’t think we should go back to my place,” I say as soon as Josephine and I settle into my car. She shakes off the huge flakes of snow clinging to her hair.

“We can’t just leave Penelope there.”

Josephine’s mother is a nightmare. Mine has her own set of problems, but Francesca Delvaux takes it to the next level. Josephine couldn’t see from the angle her mother was standing, but the fucking woman put her hand on my belt. The delusion is astounding. That doesn’t mean she isn’t dangerous. She’s using one daughter to force the hand of another. The rage I have on behalf of Jo and Penelope grows by the minute.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Ambrose. “Are you entertaining?” I ask in lieu of a hello.

“I have a sparkling personality. I’m the life of the party. Of course, I’m entertaining.”

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