Page 41 of Which Witch Is Wicked?
“I may not be able to kill you, Nicholas,” Julian said rather glibly. “But it’s damned uncomfortable to be an immortal with an incurable rash on your nethers.” Standing, he set his empty wine glass on the sideboard and started off in the direction of the study.
Dru paused in his sword sharpening. “The risen, they’ll be after the witches once their own vengeance is achieved. We let them do their thing? Let them consume one of the de Moray sisters?”
Nicholas gave a shrug that conveyed much fewer fucks than he actually gave. “Could possibly take the decision out of our hands.”
“So, we’ve decided then.” Dru blinked down, returning to his past time. “One of them still has to go unless we can figure out how to get rid of Lucy first.”
“There is no ‘getting rid’ of Lucifer,” Julian said.
“How would you know?” Nick challenged.
“What do you think I’ve been studying all these centuries in isolation?” Julian hissed. “Unlike you, it hasn’t been the many uses of my own cock.”
“Jealous, much?”
“Not in the least.”
Right before Julian quit the room, Bane stopped him with his dark voice.
“We still have to choose one of them to die,” he stated bluntly. “You never answered the question, Julian. Is Aerin de Moray corruptible? Would she join forces with Lucy to overthrow humanity?”
Julian paused with his hand on the door jamb. “I think not.” If anything, she’d overthrow humanity by herself.
“I’ve seen her soul… it’s perturbing and opaque. Does she have a good heart?”
Julian was silent, every molecule in his body screaming to protect her. But he’d never lied to the faces of his brothers. Not in years beyond number. He was already hiding their rendezvous from them.
But an out and out falsehood? Honor wouldn’t permit.
“I don’t profess to know what is in Aerin de Moray’s heart,” he murmured, and quit the room, intending to find out.
4
“Ijust can’t understand why it isn’t working,” Aerin grumbled, planting her forehead on the kitchen table. “I said the spell a million times. I’ve blown enough dandelions to impress a back alley whore. What else can Ido?”
“Maybe you’re using the wrong kind of broom. Perhaps it has to be made of all the elements,” Tierra suggested from where her busy hands prepared lunch.
Aerin sat back up and squinted at the page again. “But polypropylene is just a thermoplastic polymer that comes from the earth. And when it’s processed, it’s liquefied and then heated with fire…should be good to go.”
Skin-tight leather creaked as Claire leaned across the small table-for-four situated in the nook overlooking the sound. “That’s quite a stretch, even for us.” She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe you should try to make a broom that looks like the one in the book. A live branch, that would still have water inside of it, and then straw bristles that we can singe with fire.”
“As suggestions go, it’s a genius one.” Moira’s bare feet slapped against the floor as she wandered in with her little fire-breathing teacup pig, Cheeto, tucked under one arm. Once she set him on the floor, he rooted beneath the long lace tablecloth, content with chilling in the dark until scraps that he could pilfer fell from the table.
“I agree…what is this?” Aerin narrowed her eyes at the plate Tierra set in front of her. Luckily her sister missed her wince as she’d used her considerable waitressing abilities to carry all three of their plates at once and set identical ones in front of Claire and then Moira.
“It’s an olive and feta soy cheese wrap with brined tofu and garden veggies. You guys are lucky, I found these wraps made of ground quinoa and coconut flour!” She turned to retrieve her own plate.
“Thanks.” Aerin pasted on a fake smile that she hoped didn’t show too much teeth.
“Delicious.” Claire’s amber eyes collided with hers in panic.
Moira blinked at it for a few seconds. “That looks as…green as a bullfrog in a blender.”
“Aw, thanks!” Tierra beamed at them from back at the counter.
“That wasn’t meant as a compliment,” Moira muttered under her breath.
“Never can tell coming from you,” Aerin whispered, and received a toe-jab to the shin.
