Page 137 of Which Witch Is Wicked?
Even in the pedestrian light, it glowed iridescent like the inside of a clamshell.
“Where did you get that?” Tierra asked.
“Same place I got this.” Moira motioned to Justine, who handed her a canvas bag. Moira reached inside and withdrew the intricate crown, holding it up so the jeweled points caught the light before delicately depositing it on a kitchen towel. “It didn’t exactly go with my outfit, and truth to tell, I kinda felt like a fool wearing it.”
“You didn’t answer the question.” Aerin took a step closer, looking like a defense attorney inspecting exhibits entered into a court case.
“Where did you get these?”
“Morgana de Moray gave them to me.”
“Malcom de Moray’s sister?” Aerin asked. Out of all of them, she alone had studied the Grimoire with Talmudic zeal. “How is that possible?”
Moira shrugged. “She just kinda showed up after I fell from the cliff at Siren’s Cry and sank to the bottom of the—”
“Back the fuck up,” Aerin ordered. “You fell off the cliff at Siren’s Cry? By the Standing Stones?”
“Yup. Of course, I’d just been shot in the chest by Nick’s arrow, so my balance wasn’t so great at the time.”
Three sets of eyes widened to the size of duck eggs.
“You were shot?” Tierra fluttered over to Moira and put the back of her hand to her forehead, examining her from one angle, then another to check for other injuries.
Moira put a hand up her own shirt stuck a finger through the demonstrative hole in her tank-top. “Right about here.”
“But that’s right over your heart,” Tierra observed. “How did you survive?”
“I think it had something to do with these here fancy accessories,” Moira said, gesturing to the gleaming objects.
“So, after Nick abducted you, he took you up to Siren’s Cry just to shoot you?” Claire had abandoned her place in the doorway and seated herself on the stool next to Moira. “Why wouldn’t he have done it at their compound? Seems like that would have been a whole lot easier.”
And now it was fixin’ to get awkward.
“Because I asked him to,” Moira admitted, staring down at her own bare feet. “Shoot me, that is. But only if he would do it where we had seen our mother.”
“You did what?” Tierra’s voice had risen a couple of octaves and color flooded her cheeks.
All three of her sisters were gathered around her now with Justine close in the periphery. “I figured it only takes one of us to die to end this. Tierra’s knocked-up. Claire’s all fiery and full of life. Aerin’s all smart and rich. I can’t see much that I bring to the table aside from fried animal innards.”
“She’s Moira all right,” Aerin said sharply, rolling her eyes.
“How can you be so sure?” Claire asked.
“Because only Moira would say something so absolutely idiotic.”
Moira looked into her sister’s silvery eyes and thought she saw just thehintof a glassy sheen.
“You are an extremely valuable member of this…teamand contribute considerable…skillsto the conglomerate.” Aerin tucked a single stray hair back into its bun. “So, from now on, we would appreciate if you don’t attempt to remove yourself from the operation.”
“Gee, thanks, Aerin.” Moira said, dropping an arm around her
sister’s waist. “I love you, too.”
“Speaking of love,” Claire cut in. “Here’s the real test.”
They all followed her gaze to where a small, pink pig had paused in the doorway.
Her heart overflowing with a sudden burst of joy, Moira slid off her chair without hesitation, slapping her hands against her thighs. “Cheeto! Come here, baby! Come to momma!”
