Page 27 of Resurrecting the Witch
“Who would poison me?” I asked and honestly didn’t know the answer. “No one here would do that. Are you sure it isn’t something else?”
“Warren,” Patrick said with no room for argument. He stood behind Lennox, and his eyes blazed with a fury I hadn’t seen, and they were pitch black, like no white in them at all. It even looked like the skin around his eyes had sunk further into his face, creating shadows.
He was so angry.
“We don’t know that, Patrick,” Dom said.
I saw him at the edge of the room with his arms folded. He looked just as pissed as Patrick but more composed since he rarely lost control.
I felt a squeeze on my ankle and saw Guille seated at the foot of my bed. “There weren’t any prints on your water bottle and none of Warren’s scent near it either. I couldn’t sense any magickal signature or tampering of any kind. The little bit of water that was left Anya tested, and it does confirm poison.” I loved when my Guille turned into Dr. Luna and told me facts. “But you can’t tell Patrick it wasn’t Warren because he was the only one who had access. I am inclined to agree with him, but we also can’t say for sure.”
I closed my eyes and leaned back against the pillow, taking it all in.
“Did you call me your mate?” The words directed at Patrick left my mouth before I thought of it, and then instantly felt embarrassed.
“Okay, everyone out!” Anya barked.
Lennox gave my hand a squeeze and a dramatic eye roll while Patrick looked like he wanted to tell Anya where she could stick it.
“I’m fine,” I told him, nodding my head in what I hoped was a reassuring manner.
He gave me a subtle nod before picking up the same hand Lennox squeezed and pressing his lips to the back of it. “I will find whoever did this and bring you their head.”
I choked on a laugh, but the look in his eyes told me he was completely serious.
“Fucking fae brutes.” Anya scoffed again and shook her head. “Now get out.”
Patrick looked at Anya with more contempt than I’d ever seen anyone dare level at her then followed the others out of the room. I still hadn’t seen who all had been here, but the place had been pretty packed.
“The fae beast has balls. I’ll give him that,” Anya tsked and turned toward me.
She reminded me so much of Gran even though they couldn’t have looked more opposite. Gran had been a plump woman with curves for days, and Anya was slender as a rail. Gran had been taller, around five-ten, whereas Anya stood even shorter than me at around five-three. Gran was a witch; Anya was a wolf. Both had the blessing of eternal youth, so even though Anya was centuries old, she didn’t look any older than someone in her forties.
I’d been in this room before at her office, which also had her apartment above it that she stayed in so if someone had an emergency, she didn’t have to waste time traveling. This was a room that didn’t feel like a hospital room. The walls were a dark burnt orange with tapestries displaying the various moon cycles. There were pictures between the tapestries that showed Anya’s many travels and friendships made along the way. One of the best things about our island was the fact that we had Anya on staff. She was educated in almost every form of paranormal medicine someone could be, thanks to her world travels.
You could also see the wisdom and power behind her eyes as if she always knew one more thing about yourself that you might not even know. She stared at me now with more judgment than I cared to experience.
“I know, I know.” I already knew what Anya had to say, and I didn’t want to hear it. The last thing I wanted was another lecture from her or Guillermo about my magick.
“I don’t think you do, Cliona.” Her Russian accent came out a bit more when she was near the end of her patience. “Any witch should have been able to detect that poison, let alone be weary enough to never leave their drink unattended! Do you know what Bryg would say if she were here right now?”
I bristled at the condemnation in her tone. No one spoke to me like this except Guillermo and Lennox, and only when I really deserved it. And, well, Anya. “Well, Gran isn’t here. Is she?”
“No, but guess what, missy?” She poked her finger into my chest and got in my face.
I was still lying in the bed, muscles feeling weak so I couldn’t even sit up to face her.
“I’m here. And she was my best friend. My own Lennox. And I have only waited this long in going in on your ass because of my respect for your grief. And because Guillermo and Lennox were convincing, but I am done. You were poisoned today, Cliona.” She laughed in a way that made me think she was anything but amused. “YOU. CLIONA ERIN Ó CUINN. HIGH PRIESTESS OF THE Ó CUINN COVEN. POISONED!”
“I am not High Pries—”
“?????? ??? ???? ?????. You are High Priestess whether you wanted it originally or not. And I know for a fact your gran was preparing you for this role long before she was taken from us, so don’t even get me started on this.”
My blood was boiling at her words, and in my weakened state, my control was severely lacking. She wasn’t wrong. The only time I’d felt any relief recently was when I was physically exerting my body, or when Patrick was touching me.
“You see? You are losing it right now with a bit of anger. Your emotions are volatile. You drink poison from a cup you left unattended. You have lasted five years without any sort of repercussions of this power that you refuse to form a new coven with. Five years more than any other witch could, Cliona.” Anya’s voice softened to the one I knew as Gran’s best friend as she sat next to me on the bed. “Tell me what is going through your mind, sweet girl. This is more than just you missing Bryg. And I know you know in here.” She pointed a finger at my chest again, this time soft and gentle. “You know she would hate this for you and rip into you if she knew you’d put yourself through this torment. Physically and emotionally.”
I take a deep breath. Anya wasn’t wrong. I just hadn’t wanted to face any of it. “I know. She’d think I’m messing up her entire life’s work.”
