Page 23 of Enspelled

As if in response to my mounting terror, a low growl echoes in my head.

Georgia stops cutting into her bacon and raises her head to lock wide, terrifyingly clear blue eyes on me. “I’d heard it was true, but I hadn’t believed it until now.”

And that’s when I realize the growl wasn’t only in my head.

“Uh, what did you hear?” I ask, still hovering in the hallway, desperately hoping that Keane returns from wherever the hell he disappeared to. I doubt he’d be strong enough to kill Georgia, but there’s something reassuring about having him beside me when we’re facing down impossible odds.

She cuts a tiny piece of bacon before placing it on her tongue.

I watch her chew, and my stomach grumbles, deciding that now is apparently a good time to remind me it would like some bacon too.

After swallowing, she raises her head. Her gaze bores into me. “There is no known spell that can turn a witch into a wolf.”

I sense she isn’t finished speaking, and after a short pause, I’m proved right.

“At least, there wasn’t until now. I don’t know if your coven is even aware of this, but a long time ago, a witch came close—tantalizingly close—to crafting a transformation spell that nearly achieved something we witches have wanted for a long time.”

I dart a glance at the kitchen window when I hear a faint sound I could swear was a truck engine approaching. It’s still some way off, but I’ve heard Keane’s truck enough times for me to know it’s his. It has to be. “Uh, what happened to her?”

Georgia forks another minuscule piece of bacon into her mouth. A thread of irritation works its way through me, because I refuse to believe a piece that small can be the least bit satisfying. “The wolves ripped her to pieces.”

Silence.

“Do you know why?” she asks.

It suddenly hits me why Georgia didn’t set me on fire for killing her sister the second she laid eyes on me. I’ve just proven to be valuable to her, and the Callas have always wanted to be special.

Curious about her answer, I shake my head no.

Something akin to frustration flits across her eyes. “If witches can transform into wolves, thoseanimalsare no longer the only ones who can fight back with teeth and claws. A witch who can craft spells, control the elements, and transform into a wolf is a force of nature. No wolf can stand against that.”

Yep, that’s what I thought. Whatever coven Georgia joined is looking to wipe out the wolves. They must hate the wolves over there even more than the witches in Madden Grove do. The truck engine grows loud enough that I’m positive it’s Keane.

As the vehicle nears, it’s a battle to focus my attention on Georgia instead of turning tail and making a run for it. If I did that, I doubt I’d even make it to the front door, let alone step one foot outside.

I was lucky to survive a blast from Diana Calla, but expecting the same to happen with Georgia might be hoping for a little too much.

“How did you know what I’d done?” I ask, hoping to distract her from the sound of the approaching truck.

“I felt Diana die.” Her voice is little more than a statement of truth. Cold and dispassionate.

Although I search for pain in her eyes, I don’t see it.

Why aren’t you begging for forgiveness, Briar? You killed her sister, and she has a knife in her hand.

“Uh, I—”

“So I came at once,” Georgia talks over me in that same calm tone, “and found her body. The bite on her neck made it clear what had killed her, so I went to the wolves.”

She went to the wolves.

“Liam?” I ask, wondering if Madden Grove still has an alpha, let alone a pack.

After forking buttery-looking scrambled eggs flecked with herbs into her mouth, she chews and swallows. “Yes, Liam Wolfe. Alpha of Madden Grove.”

“And did he… tell you anything?” I hedge.

She stares at me for so long that I’m positive she’s wiped out every single wolf in his pack and is getting ready to rip me apart. My hands become so clammy, I have to wipe them on my pants.

---