Page 33 of Hexes and Exes

Ambrose has been watching with increasingly narrowing eyes. Tucker pinches Piper, and Ambrose’s jaw ticks. He strides across the room in his golden glory, holding his hand out to my mother and somehow managing to knock into Tucker. He’s forced to let go of Piper, and Ambrose slips right in between the two of them. It’s so perfectly maneuvered, I could almost believe it’s an accident, but Ambrose’s good humor momentarily fades when he looks at Piper. For a second, I barely recognize the good-humored man. His eyes darken and his jaw tenses, but then he flashes a bright smile, distracting the others around him as he shields Piper from her uncle.

Lucida saunters over to me, a glass filled with a dark red wine in her hand. I’ve been aware of the leader of the Tenebris coven for years, but know next to nothing about her. She’s in her late forties, although her age is hard to judge. In this case, I don’t believe she uses a glamour, just that she has good genes.

She’s wearing a dress that highlights her ample curves and yet somehow gives her a mystical appearance. Her long brown hair tumbles down her back in a cascade of curls. She always looks effortlessly earthy and beautiful. I, on the other hand, am wearing brown pants, a cream blouse, and a knitted sweater that even I think is ugly. Most of my clothing that isn’t jeans and T-shirts, are meant for the office, which is why they’re hideous. Plus, it has the added bonus of pissing off my dad, who believes women should dress for the admiration of men.

“Avalon, right? Thank you for having me in your home.”

I shake my head. “Ava, please. And this is definitely not my house.” I really need to stop blabbing about stuff other people don’t need to know. Next, I’ll inform her that my blouse was only three dollars at the discount rack at the thrift store. I peer down at the sad, cream affair. I really don’t think she’ll mention it.

Lucida offers up a secretive smile for me and peers around the room. My father’s taste runs ornate. He likes stuffy paintings and overly detailed furnishings. I think it’s fussy and cramped. As a kid, it made me feel closed in. The air was always heavier in the rooms my father favored. Walking back into this house tonight brings all those feelings rushing back like no time has passed. I rub a hand over my throat as if it’s starting to close up.

“So is this just a get to know each other thing?” I glance around the room, wondering where Lucida got that wine.

Lucida takes a slow sip of her drink, her eyes drifting over everyone in turn. “Apparently. Selene organized.” There’s a bite to her tone. I painstakingly keep my face from showing surprise.

“Oh, how…thoughtful.”

Lucida hums into her drink. “Yes, it’s been quite an adventure getting to know everyone.”

I peer over at the witch who led the Tenebris coven for years. The Lumen coven is full of awful people, but was their coven all that different? From what I know about Bram’s father,he’s a piece of shit. Ambrose’s parents are never around. I’m not actually sure which one of them sits on the council. Then there’s Odie’s younger brother. I’ve heard rumors about him, but haven’t seen him at a coven event yet. Not that we’ve had many joint coven outings at this point, but still.

I suppose in comparison to my father, Piper’s uncle, Josephine's mother, and Philip fucking Masters, the Tenebris witches might be a whole lot better. From this conversation, Lucida doesn’t appear to be fully on board with our newly formed coven. Or maybe I’m reading into things.

“Welcome founding families and Luminara council members. Alice and I are so pleased to have you in our home.” My father stands at the head of the long dining table. We’ve had many coven dinners in this room over the years. Each as unpleasant as the one before.

My mother has pulled out her winter themed decorations and plates for the evening. Glitter-coated snowflakes fill vases in lieu of flowers and are evenly spaced down the table. Because who doesn’t want a sprinkling of glitter in their food. The plates are as busy as the wallpaper. They’re decorated with a fussy holly and pinecone pattern that’s probably hand painted. Just because it’s expensive doesn’t mean it’s good taste.

“Let’s break bread and enjoy the company before we discuss any coven business.” My dad gestures toward the table and the group moves in to take our spots. There’s no assigned seating, but Stellan and I look at each other. We know where we belong. My father sits at the head of the table, my mother opposite him with twenty seats between them. Stellan’s spot is on my father’s right side, while mine is on the left. I’d prefer to hide in the middle, but one sharp look from my father, and I know I won’t get away with that.

Bram pulls out my seat, surprising me. “Did Fitz rub off on you?” I raise a brow as I sit.

“Avalon. Don’t be so familiar. I’m sure our guest would prefer you keep your thoughts to yourself,” my father snaps.

Bram slides into the chair beside me. “I’m quite capable of voicing my own opinions, Ivan.”

Diana Blackthorn scoffs. “That’s certainly true. I’ve never met someone who knows better than everyone around him.”

“Mother,” Roman scolds.

The amount of people around the table shooting daggers with their eyes is growing by the second.

“Before we eat, I want to make a toast to the coven. Let’s all affirm our continued support and loyalty to the new Luminara coven.” My father lifts his wine, effectively changing the topic. The rest of the room follows suit. Stellan and I lock eyes. Something about this feels more ritualistic than a regular old toast.

“Drink,” my father commands, and everyone takes at least a sip. There’s a flash of warmth that I’m not sure came from the wine.

A line of servants enters into the room with bowls of soup, breaking the growing tension by blocking a few people’s line of sight. My stomach lurches when a bowl of lumpy cream-colored liquid is set in front of me. It’s clam chowder, my father’s favorite. My parents have a chef they bring in for special occasions, like tonight’s party. Dear old dad thinks the man is the epitome of fine cuisine, but he’s a shit cook. Several years ago, I got food poisoning from this very soup. It looked exactly the same coming up as it did going down.

My stomach gives a heaving protest. I dip in my spoon and mix the thick soup around, hoping no one will notice when I don’t eat it. Bram frowns down at his bowl and doesn’t even bother picking up his spoon. Stellan eats it like he’s about to get shipped out and won’t have food available for the next month.I’ve seen him chow down on leftovers out of a garbage can, so that’s not saying much about his palate.

“Ava, I understand you and Bram are planning our Lupercalia party. How’s that going?” Lucida smiles at me from the middle of the table. I noticed she hasn’t touched her soup either.

“There’s nothing to worry about. Vincent and I are making sure these two are doing their job,” my father interjects before I get a chance to speak. “My daughter might be new to you, but let’s just say, she can be forgettable.” My father chuckles, and his jab hits its mark. “I mean forgetful.”

“Ava’s been an asset. I doubt we would have half the items checked off our list without her efficiency.” Bram points to a server to come and take his soup.

His stepmother giggles into her wine, the sound mean. “How unsurprising. Passing off the work. You always were lazy. I couldn’t get him to do a thing as a child.”

“That would have required speaking to me, Diana. I believe that could have been the problem.”

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