Page 36 of What The Hex (The Family Spells)
Better, maybe, if we shut all the lights off.
I snapped my fingers and a hundred or so candles—all in white—flickered to life, illuminating the rest of the room. Slowly, I turned my head to look at Argent, reaching up to remove my ruined witch hat. It was still a bit soggy from my dunk in the water, the charms were all gone, and pretty sure one of those asshole witch-eaters punctured it with a claw.
I stroked the brim of the hat with a single fingertip. There wasn’t a person in my life who didn’t know about my hat addiction. Now, sadly, one less.
Not that it mattered. I handed it over to my husband, a frown etching his perfect mouth. He made certain that his long fingers brushed mine as he took the hat from me, and I lifted my green gaze to his face.
“Go shut the power off for me,” I said, which wasn’t at all an answer to his question. His hand captured my wrist, a single thumb brushing across the new magic mark there. The deal I’d made with Monster was burned into my flesh now. I could no more flee it than I could him.
“Graceley,” Argent whispered, pulling me close. Heat flared low in my belly, but it was dimmed by the situation … and the smell. Argent tilted my face up to his with a single finger beneath my chin. “The situation is dire, yes. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t hurting.” His charcoal eyes searched my own, and my heart pounded. I knew he was talking about Monster; I knew what a seriously big faerie-fucking deal this was. “I will shut the power off but mark my words: I do not like or want him here.”
He bared his teeth at me before leaning down and pressing his hot mouth against mine. It was much a move to comfort me as it was to mark me, to make certain that Monster, who was now standing on the opposite end of the room from us, knew whom I belonged to.
You lost your chance to have her, you fool, is what Argent’s gaze said as he slid it past me, dragged it over Monster and turned, brushing past Hex as if the demon-witch half-breed who’d been a pain in my ass all month was now the least annoying and pressing issue to deal with.
“If this soul-circle weren’t responsible for the powers of the Eluna Enair then I’d say we shouldn’t even bother,” Monster began, striding across the room to me in his plate-armor pants and shirtless glory. His shadow wings flexed behind him, pulling in close to his body as I swallowed against a rush of heat and dug my nails into the palms of my hands, hoping the pain might calm me down. “But as such, this might just work.”
“Eluna Enair?” Hex queried, just before Caine shoved him out of the way and strode into the center of the room, still shirtless and barefoot. He pushed his blond hair back from his face and took a breath.
“Alright, sugar, where do you want me to start?” He glanced back at me with a smile that didn’t quite reach the glorious amber of his eyes. I nodded in the direction of the basket Hex was still holding.
“Set up the healing spell,” I commanded, turning off the wife role and switching on my high priestess voice. I looked back at Hex who was still standing there, puzzling over the demon words; I had no idea if he spoke his father’s tongue or not. Caine snatched the basket immediately and got to work while Hex cocked his head at me.
“Witch Queen?” he translated, his mouth turning down in a frown. “There’s no such thing as the Witch Queen.” His gaze shifted over to Monster, and his expression became even more uncomfortable before he switched his eyes back to mine.
“I don’t know anything about that,” I offered up with a slight shake of my head. “All that I know is that I need you here. If I give you an illustration, can you copy it onto the floor?” Hex didn’t look at all certain of anything in that moment, but he nodded anyway, and I turned back to Monster.
“Your blood,” I commanded, and he smiled at me. “Give a vial of it to Hex and another to me.”
It occurred to me that, as demon royalty, Monster’s blood would be far more potent than what we’d collected down in Hael. I cocked a brow in question as his smile widened.
It was a terrifying smile; it was an angry promise; it was a threat.
I looked away from him and over to Spectre. My rock. My easygoing husband. The cool, quiet balm to the fires raging inside of me. He waited for me to join him in the doorway, and then he put his arms around me, hugging me tightly without needing an explanation.
