Page 63 of Which Witch is Willing?
Tierra glanced at each of her sisters in turn. “Aunt Justine wants to hold a baby shower.”
Aerin straightened. “A fuckingwhatshower?”
Claire laughed, though she did understand Aerin’s reservations. Polite tea parties weren’t their cup of tea.
Tierra chuckled. “A baby shower. She wanted to hold it at their place, but I said, no. If I’m allowing a multitude of people around Violet, it will be here, where all of you and the guys can protect her.”
Violet squirmed and opened her eyes, staring at Moira with a most-interested expression.
Moira grinned with obvious affection. “As much as I’d like to tell some of them biddies to kiss the north end of a south-facin’ mule, I’d say this little one deserves all the gifts she can lay her chubby paws on.”
“Good,” Tierra said. “The more the coven believes she’s a normal baby, the more likely they’ll accept her. It’s traditional for all witches to be introduced this way into their coven.”
All but them, Claire thought.
The tea kettle shrilled, and Tierra stood. “I’ll let her know that she can go ahead then. We’ll make sure the house is heavily warded and that no one who’s not invited can enter.”
Great, Claire thought. A house full of witches who hated her. What could be more fun?
30
Early afternoon, several weeks later, one by one, members of the Port Townsend coven arrived at the quaint, nineteenth-century home sitting on the hillside above the Victorian seaport village. Witches young and old came dressed in their finery, sporting silk skirts and a variety of crystal encrusted jewelry like any respectable witch would. They chattered as they ascended the steps carrying pink or purple gifts in a variety of sizes, prepared to celebrate the arrival of Tierra’s child.
Claire and Aerin flanked the front door, supposedly to welcome their guests, but really to assess everyone entering the house. Claire had warned Aunt Justine to only invite the witches who personally knew Tierra well.
Considering the number of guests arriving, either her sister was a popular lady, or Aunt Justine hadn’t listened at all, which was a potent source of frustration for Claire.
Moira had been willing, but not happy, to be banished to their mother’s special room in the attic, where they all hoped no one could sense Moira and the dark-souled baby that she carried. Even Aunt Justine thought it was better to introduce the coven to one world-changing infant at a time.
Honestly, Moira didn’t know how lucky she was, not having to deal with the mostly unpleasant witches. Plus, Moira had Nick there to entertain her, and Claire had no doubt that he would.
Aerin and she received several dull looks from the haughty witches as they passed. Although Aerin in her expensive pantsuit far outclassed them, neither she nor Claire, in her red silk shirt and leather pants, won their approval. Likely never would.
Not that she cared.
A lull came between arriving guests, and Aerin sighed with impatience as they waited for the next party of guests to make their way to the house. “This is such a shit show.”
Claire groaned. “You’re telling me. If I have kids, and that’s a big ‘if’, I don’t care if the whole town disowns me. I’m not subjecting myself to their ridiculous trivialities.”
Aerin grinned. “Truth. I have better things to do than entertain the lot of nasty women. They don’t care about us, don’t care about Tierra or little Violet. They’ve sensed the power and light she’s brought into the world, and they’re here to witness her firsthand, to judge her power, and to plan the future of the coven based on what they see.”
No doubt Aerin was correct. “Still, who in their right mind would subject themselves to silly games and mindless chatter, all for the sake of a baby they don’t even know? There are other, better ways of gaining information.”
Aerin snorted. “But this is the easiest way. Theyknowshe’s not just any baby. How could they not? She was born of one of the four who were never supposed to live. They know who we are, know that we’ve opened six out of the seven Seals, and I’m sure they’re wondering who the hell Violet is. Or should I say, what she is.”
A tendril of fear snaked through Claire. “This was a mistake. We shouldn’t be letting anyone close to the baby. Not until she’s old enough to protect herself.”
“Yeah. Though I’m not entirely sure Violet can’t do that already. She has extremely strong powers.”
True enough.
Claire reached out to Dru with her senses, needing to feel him near in case anything went wrong. His presence reassured her, and she knew the other three horsemen weren’t far away. Out of sight, but not too far should they need them. Death would be the nearest, of course, closed up in a room just off the parlor where the baby shower would take place.
Personally, she could care less if the coven accepted little Violet, but she supposed if there was going to be life after the apocalypse, the sisters would all want Violet to be accepted by her peers, something Claire, Aerin, and Moira had been robbed of.
Two witches approached the house, one dressed in a flowing purple skirt and the other in a flaming orange Victorian dress and matching feathered hat, and they strode through the white picket gate. The hat partially obscured the orange-clad woman’s face until she looked up to climb the front porch stairs.
Gwen.
