Page 51 of The Rowan
Fuck me. No wait, fuck her. I swing around and fling a spell at her, piercing her shield with ease. Needle and thread appear and sew her lips together. “Don’t worry, the spell will dissolve when you see your father and tell him everything—what you did to me, your love for your incubus, and the fact Cassandra’s blackmailing you. If you don’t spill everything, your mouth will remain sewn shut. I heard your dad is going to be back tomorrow?” She nods with a sniff. “Good. That’s enough time for you to think long and hard about your current path. Good luck.” I spin on my heel and open a portal to Witchwood, Astor’s hand still clasped in mine.
“Bravo, gorgeous,” Astor whispers in my ear. He tries to untangle his fingers from mine as we walk through the portal.
“What are you doing?” I ask, gesturing to our hands.
“As much as I appreciate your declaration, let’s keep it on the down low for now…hmm?” he suggests. “We don’t want to push Caro over the edge before your placement ceremony, do we?”
“No, you’re right,” I respond. “But when all this is over…”
Astor nods, and a small smile of satisfaction appears. “Shall we?” He gestures to the door of Witchwood.
Unlike Reyna’s house, Witchwood’s gates are wide open, the wards programmed to let witches pass. Startled, I glance at Astor and raise my eyebrows. I didn’t think about it the first time I visited because I didn’t feel any wards. This time, though, the wards are up, and yet, they let me and my mixed blood right in, and Astor, too. The magic recognizes witches, and pure or mixed blood doesn’t seem to matter, which makes sense, if my theory is correct.
Henry opens the door. “Good afternoon, Miss Arden. Mr. Astor. Do you have an appointment?”
I decide to ignore his question. “Is Caro home?”
“Yes, Miss Arden. She’s in the Heritage Room,” he replies. “Please, follow me.”
“Thanks, Henry,” I say warmly. We follow Henry to the room, where he announces us to Caro.
Startled, she tries to block us from the room. “We don’t allow outsiders to see this room. It contains our witch heritage.”
“Really, am I included in that heritage?” Astor asks, stepping into the room.
Incensed, Caro stalks over to him. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” she demands.
My eyes are drawn to the large tapestry hanging on the wall depicting a massive family tree. I walk up to view it closer. “What is this?” Entranced, I trace each family’s branch. A leaf on the Perrone branch says Gia Perrone with the day and year of her birth and death on it.
Caro stands stiffly beside me. “It’s the rowan tree, our coven’s tree. It lists every witch ever born,” she answers. With a glance at Astor, she amends her statement. “Every pure witch.”
As I turn my head towards her, my peripheral vision catches a micro-thin layer on top of the tapestry. It shimmers like a second skin, almost entirely translucent. My eyes widen when I realize it’s a concealment spell. Is it a spell Caro knows about or not?
A bowl with a thorn in the center sits on the table beneath the tapestry. Centuries of dried blood has turned it black. I think this is the bowl Cassandra mentioned to me. “What’s this?” I reach out to touch the bowl, but Caro grabs my hand.
“We use that during the placement ceremony,” she says. “It confirms you are a witch, with witch powers, and it accepts or rejects you into the coven.”
The bowl just became infinitely more interesting to me. “Do you know your daughter drugged me, then placed a spell on me to make me accept a vampire’s Mate Kiss?” I drop the question into the discussion without fanfare.
“What? You must be mistaken. Cassandra would never drug or place a spell on another witch, especially without my knowledge,” she states. “I assume you have proof?”
I glance at Astor, who narrows his eyes, and remarks, “Unfortunately, they disappeared before we could catch them, along with any proof that might have lingered.”
Caro sneers at Astor. “They?”
“Reyna Santiago was with her,” he sneers back.
Caro scoffs. “As if you have any right to hold my daughter or Reyna in your custody. Witches fall under coven rules.”
“The cadre is the ultimate power at The Abbey. Please tell Cassandra I’m looking for her. If she steps foot in our sanctuary again, I’ll be waiting,” he requests with a sinister smile. “The next time it happens, we’ll kill everyone involved. Nobody messes with those under our protection.”
“Who’s under your protection?” she asks, laughing.
“I am,” I answer softly. I glance at Astor. “We’re done here.” A couple of steps brings me to the door. “Oh and, Caro, the Killian blades found me, not the other way around. I wouldn’t mess with them, if I were you. They have a nasty habit of killing everyone, not just the Fae.”
31
ARDEN
