Page 27 of Hell Hath No Fury
“This meeting … I think it’s important you to be the one to attend,” Ridley said, showing her teeth.
Eyes darted back-and-forth between us, Nyx and Minerva tensing beside me once more.
“I have an important meeting with those transporting my shipment—”
“I can handle that,” Ridley interrupted, brushing imaginary dust from the surface of the table. “After all, if it’s as important as you say, the leader of this coven should be taking care of it,” she added, grinding salt into the nick she’d created.
My grip on my athame tightened.
Hazel shifted once more in her seat. My gaze flickered to the young, fresh faced, pretty witch, her delicate features twisted into a grimace. She was in distress. And would likely be in more if I continued this conversation.
My chair screeched as I stood. The air thickened, and Ridley flinched, just a little, expecting a blow.
I managed to catch her fear before she emptied her features. She was likely readying whatever spell she’d had ready for this moment.
I smiled at her. “I better get going, then,” I gritted out.
She blinked once, confused. Then she processed my words. “We’re not done here,” she said.
“I’m done here,” I informed her flatly then turned on my heel and walked out. Before I did something really stupid.
* * *
“You’re mad.”
I didn’t look up from the bottle of whisky I was contemplating. Hard liquor was regulated here for the effect it had on our senses and therefore our magick. I thought that was a load of shit and in truth a subtle means of controlling the coven.
Therefore, I had a great stash of whisky and quite the taste for it.
I was shoving clothes into a duffel while drinking from the crystal tumbler that was something insane like one thousand years old and was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. It had belonged to some mad king or another. There was nothing I liked better than disrespecting artifacts revered by the patriarchal society from which they were born.
“I’m not mad,” I replied, taking a long sip as I regarded Nyx leaning against the door. She was wearing a white jumpsuit that clung to her every curve, a gold harness draped over top, molding her torso, and crystals hung delicately down the sides. Her raven black hair was braided intricately, falling to the small of her back, the golden-brown hue of her skin glistening in the late afternoon sunlight. Her sharp gaze was focused on me, all of her delicate features schooled carefully in an expression of tranquility I knew far too well.
“The wildfires that Juniper has been putting out all afternoon beg to differ,” she said mildly.
“There are at least five fire witches in this coven who could be responsible for that,” I countered, refilling my glass. I didn’t know why I was standing on ceremony, why I wasn’t just drinking straight from the bottle.
But the ritual itself was calming.
Witches liked rituals.
“Those witch’s powers could light one, maybe,” she conceded. “Notsix.”
I sucked my teeth. “Global warming,” I offered with a shrug.
She smirked. “Humans are ruining the earth at an unprecedented rate,” she agreed. “Ridley is on the warpath.”
My grip tightened around my glass, and a small earthquake rattled the room. It was unnerving that my control over my powers was slipping with every passing hour. I didn’t let that show, though. “She wants war, I’ll give it to her.”
Nyx’s smirk disappeared. “You do not want that right now. It is not the time.”
My blood chilled at her somber tone. I focused on her more intently now, staring at her usually deep brown eyes which in that moment were almost pure onyx. That meant she had seen something.
Something that did not bode well for me if I finished this bottle and went to challenge Ridley like I had been planning on doing.
I hadn’t thought it through, of course. I rarely thought things through, yet they always seemed to work out. But then again, even I hadn’t done anything quite as drastic as challenge the coven leader after drinking an entire bottle of whisky.
“It would end in death,” Nyx warned, her voice not entirely her own. “Not yours, but many of your sisters. It would break the coven. It would break parts of the world. The fabric of nature.”
