Page 46 of Magic and Matrimony

“Besides your required attendance at the founders’ parties, it was three years ago when Alexander died. I don’t recall you being back for any reason other than that, but maybe I’ve forgotten.” Alexander was the old Tenebris coven leader. He was barely functioning at the end, but I believe that’s how the council preferred it. “Again, outside of the founders' parties, the last time you were in town was when Lucida took over the leadership of the coven.” I slide into the seat beside the head of the table where my mother takes up her perch. “I don’t recall missing any phone calls from you since then. Maybe your letters were lost in the mail.”

My mother’s nostrils flare, but she doesn’t continue the argument. There’s no point.

Across from me is Anastasia Lexington. Her dress is high-necked, but unlike my wife’s, it’s because she has the word predator scarred into her chest. That was a nice little magical revenge by Roman when Anastasia tried to sexually assault him. The dress is backless, almost to the point where I can see her ass crack. She makes sure I look as she does a full circle before she sits in her chair. It’s business in the front, nasty party in the back.

“Ambrose Roth.” Anastasia smiles across the table at me. At least I have this much going for me—in all of my sluttiest days, I never slept with Anastasia.

She licks her lips, her eyes drifting down my chest, and then back up to my face. “The one that got away.”

A server brings over wine, displaying it for me to approve. I don’t care if it’s rot gut. I snatch the bottle off a tray, pour myself a healthy glass, and down half of it. I’m going to need to be drunk to get through this dinner.

“I don’t think I’m the only one who got away.” I look over my glass at Anastasia. Her eyes dart down the table to Roman, who’s glowering at Francesca.

Josephine’s mother is a piece of shit. Much like Piper’s uncle. In many ways, I lucked out when it came to my parents. Yes, they were absent from my childhood, from most of my life, really. They would leave for months when I was a kid. I know I have abandonment issues because of it, but I’m also a modern man and I’ve gotten therapy. Josephine’s mother Francesca used to torture her. I don’t know exactly what Tucker has done to Piper, but I have my suspicions. It’s obvious she’s been physically abused and mentally tormented. In comparison, I suppose I should be grateful for the fact that my parents just left me alone.

Tucker is in the middle of the table. He keeps looking at Piper as though he wants to throttle her. He has two black eyes and a bandage taped over his nose. His mouth is turned down in a sour expression.

“What are you looking at?” Tucker snaps when he turns his head and finds me staring at him.

I point to my nose and click my tongue. “That looks like it hurts. Don’t know anyone who can whip up a good healing potion, do you?”

I know for a fact that Piper is excellent at making potions.

Tucker snarls and then winces at the pain the movement causes.

“Or Francesca, don’t you have a daughter with healing abilities?”

Roman glares at me and mouths,what are you doing?

I grin at him.

Francesca has three daughters. Josephine would sooner cut off her nose than help her mother at this point in her life. Her younger sister, Penelope, is barely a teenager and lives with Roman and Josephine. She has no contact with Francesca or her father. It’s weird to think Roman basically has a teenager at home. They also have another sister who’s a few years younger than Josephine, who has the ability to heal. However, she alongwith Josephine’s mother and father, tried to do a ritual which backfired on them. It caused Josephine’s curse to rebound onto them. So now Francesca, her husband, and their middle daughter can’t touch anyone without feeling pain. How sad for them.

“We’re not in the healing business any longer.” Francesca glares at me, ice coating her glass where she holds it.

“Right, because your punching bag is gone.” Roman sets his glass of wine down so hard the red liquid splashes over the side and stains the white tablecloth beneath it. “Or maybe it’s because my brother sucked all the magic out of you. Although it looks like it’s starting to return.” He stares pointedly at the iced over glass. Francesca has water magic. The fact that she can’t control it is telling. “What a relief, right? Even if it’s a bit glitchy.” Roman chuckles to himself.

Bram, Roman’s brother, has the ability to literally suck the magic out of a person. That’s exactly what he did to Francesca at a recent coven event. Her magic has obviously replenished, but wouldn’t it be incredible if it went away forever? Tucker’s too.

“Please, everyone. We haven’t even started eating yet.” My mother waves her hands and a small army of servers file in with food. “It’s in an amuse-bouche.” She laughs as the servers bring in small plates with mini bites of food. They’re all very pretty, but I have no idea what anything is.

Lucida is sitting in the seat to my right, and I turn to her. “So how is it that a magic spell that should have the best interest of the coven, at its core, selects candidates to be part of our council who are under house arrest for having betrayed said coven?”

“Ambrose.” My mother’s fork clinks against her plate.

“I think it’s a fair question,” Piper says from farther down the table.

“Since when do you have a thought in your head?” Tucker snorts, and then hisses, his fingertips gently probing his nose.

“You’re right,” Lucida says. “It’s a fair question. And one I’m looking into.” Lucida scans the table, taking in every one of the individuals who might be the future of this coven. The direction our town could take swings wildly in two extremes.

“There’s no going back now,” Lucida says calmly, but her eyes tell a different story. She’s pissed. “The spell has been cast and what’s done is done. But I’m confident that our trials will weed out those who don’t deserve to be in power.”

“By whose determination?” Francesca asks. She’s at the opposite end of the table, as far away from other people as she can put herself. “Sometimes the weak need a firm hand.”

“And sometimes compassion goes further than brute force,” Odie signs.

Anastasia sighs loudly. “What is she saying? Nobody knows what she’s saying.”

---