Trial by Fire

“Okay. But later?” Lily asked plaintively. “I’m starving.”


After dinner, Lily claimed Tristan. She was much gentler than she’d been with either Rowan or Caleb, even though the urge to take him over completely was strong. She didn’t grab him or break off contact too soon. She tried to allow Tristan his privacy as she had tried with Caleb, but some kind of memory exchange seemed to be part of the process. Lily saw several of Tristan’s formative memories, some of the many women he’d been intimate with, including something currently with Esmeralda. But mostly she saw Lillian and Rowan. She wondered if Rowan knew how much Tristan both admired and resented him.

He knows.

Then why did you let me claim you, Tristan? Why not find another witch so you don’t feel like you’re always second to him?

Because you need me, Lily, and so do Rowan and Caleb. I can be a selfish person sometimes, but in the end I’d rather help my friends than help myself.

I know. That’s probably why I’ve always cared about you. No matter what universe we’re in.




Gideon kicked off his shoes and dropped down into his chair. The meeting with Roberts, Bainbridge, and Wake had not gone as he’d hoped. Gideon had told them where the other Lillian was hiding. One raid, and they would have the physical proof they needed that there were other universes and that Lillian had learned how to access them, but they’d balked. Roberts had sputtered like a fool, saying that they would need Coven approval for a raid, and if they were wrong, they’d hang. Gideon wondered how long that petulant old man would be alive and debated whether or not it would be useful to try to help him along with dying.

“You’d think they’d want to at least try to capture the other Lillian,” Gideon said, disgusted.

“Not necessarily.” Carrick stood by the window, looking out. “Being able to access other worlds may mean that the people no longer need witches to get them what they need. But if they no longer need witches, they may decide they don’t need Councilmen either. They’re afraid.”

Gideon cocked his head at Carrick, studying him. Whatever the Outlander lacked in formal education, he made up for with keen intuition. He certainly had an uncanny understanding of what people feared.

“Whoever holds the most power is the one in control,” Gideon countered. “And there is no greater power than this.”

“But you still need a witch in order to do it,” Carrick reminded him. “And the problem with witches is that they tend to do the controlling.”

A very good point, but Gideon hadn’t given up yet—wouldn’t give up until he solved this problem. Too much was at stake. If he could find a way to control just one witch, he might not need the Council or the Covens. With the ability to access other worlds, the possibilities were endless.

“The Council will never back us,” Gideon said. “We need to move without them. Get in touch with the traitor.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Let’s do it tonight.”




Caleb didn’t want to wait until morning to start work on the tunnel. With three witch-powered mechanics hauling rubble and shoring up the braces, Rowan figured they could have the rest of the tunnel dug out before dawn. It was decided that arriving in the Outlander caravan outside the walls would be safer at night, and the sooner they got out of Salem the better. Esmeralda had already needed to call in a few favors to hide the extra supplies they required, and no one wanted to tempt fate another day.