Page 28 of What The Hex (The Family Spells)
“This is the sort of mistake you only make once,” the Crone hissed, and then, at the end of her sharp and cracked fingernails, I saw the beginnings of a hex. A big one. A powerful one. Something that would likely change Grace’s—and her family’s—lives for generations.
The Crone threw the magic out, this black, sticky thing that drifted like dusty cobwebs through the air … but never landed.
The demon man with the shadow wings swung his hand casually in the air, and the hex turned to flame and then, ashes. It drifted to the floor as he smiled, his teeth an almost disturbingly brilliant white.
The rage on the Crone’s face would haunt me well into the depths of my nightmares.
“Ignus artiose, ver Gron Priaposia,” she breathed, her voice a sibilant slither as she stared at him, her beady eyes darkening with the promise of power.
Again, not great with the demon tongue or anything but … I’m pretty sure she just said, Watch yourself, Grand Prince.
Prince?
I did not have the goddess-damned energy to parcel that one out.
We barely made it out of the sanctum.
That much I knew for certain. Much as Monster might’ve pretended to be unaffected by the Crone’s hex, it was a lie. I could see it in the tightness of his shoulders, in the pace of his shuddered breaths.
But still, the night was cool and calm when we emerged, the wind a mellifluous whisper in the trees. We weren’t far outside of town, just enough so that the shouts and laughter of trick-or-treaters was sadly absent, the metallic glimmer of traffic a faraway thing.
With the moon heavy and pregnant in the sky—oh gods, pregnant? was I really pregnant? wasn’t it too soon to tell?—we made our way down the stone steps and into the woods, a small pack of werewolves surrounding us like an honor guard.
When we were far enough away from the sanctum to have a minute (but only just), we paused as a group and Hex finally, blessedly, dropped the ivory tusk to the forest floor. He fell to his knees shortly after, and I knelt down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder that made him shiver.
He was bent over and panting, his fingers buried deep in the wet dirt of the forest floor as his familiar stood watch, headbutting him and purring for comfort.
“You need to summon me,” he breathed, orange eyes closing. I felt an immediate and overwhelming need to protect him, to care for him, to … but even if he was one of my soulmates, he wasn’t my husband. He hadn’t consented to letting me mother his ass, even were he so inclined.
“Summon you?” I queried, my skin rippling at the idea. The thought of it was disturbing enough. Summoning a demon was a big deal. Being a member of Coven Apothecary and summoning a demon was an even bigger deal. Acting as high priestess at the same damn time? Not even a thing.
And on top of all that, summoning my own goddess-damned soulmate? Insanity.
“Before Lulu wakes up,” Hex choked out, putting a dirt-covered hand to his throat as Caine moved away to deal with the other wolves. There was this strange, distant, shameful part of me simmering deep down that always got a little freaked out when my hubby came in contact with other wolves. I knew that he missed the pack sometimes, that he’d give anything for a group hunt, that there were things we can’t do together that he might with a female werewolf …
Ugh.
Now was not the time to obsess over any of that. Right now, the only thing that mattered was saving my mother’s life. Everything else could come after that. Monster, this demon-witch war he was talking about, my personal issues with Hex Sorciere.
“How does that even work, double summoning a demon?” I queried, looking up at, of all people, Monster. He was standing above us, staring down with copper eyes and acting as if he wasn’t seriously drained from flicking aside a Crone’s spell as if it were nothing.
But holy flipping witch hats, it was something.
“Whomever is stronger … wins.” Monster smiled, and that, too, was something. I acted as if it didn’t affect me whatsoever, but I could smell him, even squatting down here in the woods surrounded by werewolves and husbands and that delicious cinnamon and sandalwood smell of Hex Sorciere. “Once Lulu Witch awakens, it’ll be your will against hers. If she gives her grandson’s name to one of the Three …”
“She won’t do that,” Hex breathed, looking up and into my eyes, sparking our sympathetic magic and making me ache. I swallowed hard and glanced away, curling my fingers against the leather on my thighs. Am I really pregnant? After just one round with this stupid witch? Looking at him now though, it wasn’t all that hard to believe. He looked sort of … virile, even as he was currently, bent over and sweating from the poison of the ivory. I returned my attention to his handsome face. “She … I really don’t think she would.”
