Page 148 of Black Willow Witch
That they did, she conceded as he left the room.
Hearing the front door swing shut behind him, she rubbed at her cheek, still a little thrown. Maybe his declaration of intent shouldn’t have caught her so off-guard, but she’d thought he might suggest they claim each otherin the future. Not so soon. And not out of nowhere when she was tired and her defenses were down.
He’d said he’d give her time, but she didn’t want to spend weeks chewing on it. Leaving the matter unresolved would eat at her. As would knowing that – though he’d never let her see it – herneedingsuch time would hurt him. He was just so damn sure of her, ofthem.
Had she never mated Michael, she probably wouldn’t be so knotted up inside right now. Which meant that Ripper was right: shewasletting her past impact her decision. Emberlyn didn’t want to do that.
Ripper would never do what Michael had done. Would never betray her, never hide any fuckups from her, never refuse to apologize if he hurt her. He was too loyal, had too much integrity. And he loved her. Loved her as she did him.
‘You weren’t meant for him. You were meant to be mine. We just didn’t get that until now.’
It sure did feel that way. Everything she felt toward Ripper had come to her so easily, so naturally . . . as if it had been inevitable.
She supposed it didn’t make much of a difference if they claimed each other now rather than later. Because shewouldsay yes in the future. Why insist on more time now? Especially when a sense of such sheerrightnessthundered through her at the thought of saying yes. She could—
The curtain fluttered. The lamp bulb flickered. The flames in the hearthpuffedout.
Cold washed over, eerie and otherworldly and filled with a thousand frantic whispers.
Emberlyn sat up straight, instantly alert.
Well, well, well, it would seem that she had company.
Emberlyn pushed off the sofa, walked purposefully out of the room and headed into the kitchen. She stopped at the door to the basement, turned the knob and opened it wide. She didn’t clamber down the wooden steps that disappeared into thick pockets of shadow. She merely called out, ‘It’s time.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Every part of her body aching, Reena weakly lifted her head from the cold, hard ground. A ground she’d pitilessly been dumped on by one of the people now lined up in front of the manor. Her ears ringing, she blinked to clear her blurred vision and focused on the scene playing out in front of her.
Eight robed witches stood with their feet planted and their hands extended. All bloated with power that didn’t belong to them, they were chanting fast beneath their breath as they worked to take down the manor’s shield.
The taut air crackled with magick, hot and sticky and veryother. A force not of this world. Not meantforthis world.
They’d ‘borrowed’ it, she thought. Borrowed it from some creature or deity they’d summoned, and probably in exchange for a sliver of their soul.
They had to be members of the rebel faction. She couldn’t tell whoexactlythey were because each wore an animal mask. Going by the length of their hair and how slender their hands were, she felt sure that the goat, cat, rabbit and blackbird were female. The rest – a fox, wolf, deer and owl – appeared to be male.
Though the power they wielded only danced along the manor’s shield, dread licked through her. It wasn’t so much these assholes who worried her. It was that they each had a Rabid on a magickal leash that currently kept them docile.
Currently.
They likely wouldn’t remain that way for long. Reena was in no state to fight them. She could barely move.
The witches had come at her from behind, the little cowardly bastards. They’d not only attacked her with magick and sappedher of virtually all strength, they had also managed to suppress her own magick, leaving her weak and defenseless.
She had no idea how they’d managed to draw Ripper away from the manor, though she’d heard them gloating about it. Heard enough to understand they’d come here because the rest of the coven now wanted their heads on a silver platter. Only earning respect and fear would make the coven accept the faction as worthy. In these witches’ view, defeating Emberlyn Vautier would earn them both.
Reena inwardly snorted. They were underestimating just how powerful the lone witch truly was. Eight witches, twenty witches, forty witches – it would make no difference. Not even while they were tanked up on borrowed magick. They were fools if they thought differently. It was just as foolish of them to think that getting her alone would turn things in their favor. Emberlyn didn’t need werewolf muscle at her back.
Trying to sit up a little straighter, Reena winced as pain bloomed through her head again. Her belly churned and beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. Closing her eyes, she tried accessing her magick again.Failed. It was still buried too deep.
Hearing a flutter of wings, she looked upward. Three crows had gathered on the roof of the manor. Another soared down and settled on the porch rail. A fourth circled the building before landing on a turret.
If the faction noticed, they didn’t show it. They were focused on lowering the shield – their chanting growing louder, faster, more intense.
Reena’s gaze slipped down . . . and stopped as she did a double-take. Several partly transparent people stood in the manor’s windows, staring out at the scene below. Women and men dressed in clothes from varying eras.
Two in particular caught her attention – Lilith and Millicent side by side, shooting daggers at the faction.
