Page 53 of The Wolfing Hour
I replied in my own voice, “But I’m not on the soil, Mom.”
Bronwyn made an approving sound. Margaux shushed her.
Memories, good and bad, flooded into my head.“You carry our soil within you. It lives in your blood.”
“I’m a demon,” I said.
“You are something neither the elemental world nor the demon world has ever seen.”The words, and the voice that spoke them, made me shiver.
Sexton.
I didn’t dare say it aloud. He’d once told me I could summon him by speaking his name, and that was the last thing I needed now. I couldn’t deal with another complication.
The music had provided the distraction I’d needed to battle back my demon side. As the song faded to silence, the numbness and chill receded entirely, and I was myself again.
“You have so much to explain.” I glared at Bronwyn.
“Everything.” Margaux helped the other witch to her feet. “We need it all.”
“I’ll tell you what I know.” Bronwyn touched her face, her mouth, her throat. “Whoa. I can speak. The secrecy spell broke. I must’ve truly believed you were going to kill me.”
“I would have,” I said. “I wanted to.”
“You’re upset.” She swallowed audibly. “I don’t blame you. And Maya. Damn. How am I going to explain this to her?”
I liked Maya, but I gave zero damns about her feelings right now. Ida was in danger. The whole county was in danger. And Bronwyn had answers I needed.
“Who are you really, Rachel Hill? And who is Mason Hartman? But most importantly,who the hell was that on the phone threatening my best friend?”
Chapter
Ten
Chapter Ten
“The official name isThe Esteemed Order of the Removal of the Blight on Humankind. We call it The Organization. The Org, for short.”
Yikes. I’ve found that whenever an organization uses a self-referential term for respect in its title, it almost never deserves any.
“Blight on Humankind?” Margaux’s voice shook with rage. “Betty is irritatingly single-minded, occasionally sanctimonious, and often moralistic to a degree that would shame a monk, but she’s hardly ablight.”
“You’re too kind, Margaux,” I said sarcastically.
“I didn’t name the organization,” Bronwyn snapped. “Obviously, she’s not a blight.”
“You can both stop saying that word anytime now,” I said.
They mumbled, “Sorry, Betty.”
For a moment, I set aside my anger and hurt and approached things with my head instead of my heart. Bronwyn had behaved as if she were my friend from the beginning—except for thewhole spying-on-me thing. If she was telling the truth, she’d even protected me.
It thoroughly annoyed me that, even after everything, I still leaned toward trusting her.
Margaux refocused on Bronwyn. “This person who threatened Betty. Who is he?”
“I only know him by one name—Miles—and it might not be real. The guy is intense. The type not just affiliated with the organization but very deep into the lore.”
Margaux looked at me. “Miles issoldierin Latin.”
