I grinned against her palm, letting my fangs touch her skin and reveling in the shudder that went through her body.
“Get back in the kitchen. Now,” she ordered. The boy glared at her but did as he was told, swinging that fire poker at his side as he stalked out of sight.
It was almost cute that he wanted to protect her. I imagined she didn’t agree when he’d revealed the deception she’d tried to create. She released my mouth when she felt certain I wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t use my compulsion against the boy I had to presume was her brother.
“That’s quite the secret you’re keeping, Witchling,” I said, staring at the side of her face as she watched him disappear from view. The carefully constructed mask she’d donned for me slowly slipped away, the faint hint of a pleasant but blank smile dropping. Her face hardened, her cheekbones appearing sharper as her gaze glimmered, and she slowly turned it up to look at me through those long lashes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, pressing her lips into a flat line. Her sweater parted to reveal the faint glow pulsing around her tourmaline amulet, shimmering against her olive skin.
“If you come with me quietly, I won’t tell the Coven about the male witch in your house,” I said, making an offer that she wouldn’t have received from any of the others. I was the only one who cared so little for the laws of the witches that I would dismiss them so carelessly.
“You expect me to trust a blood-sucking parasite?” she asked, her eyes flashing in defiance. With the walls dropped between us, the depths of her hatred for my kind became clear in the endless gaze she leveled me with.
“You can’t hide in that house forever. I’m offering you a way to save your brother from making the Choice. Call someone to get him and come with me, and no one needs to know,” I said, raising my hands placatingly. I didn’t back away, didn’t give her the opportunity to close the door as my foot stayed wedged in her way.
She took her eyes away from mine, turning to look back in the direction her brother went one last time before she made the choice we both knew was her best option.
But when she turned her attention back to me, her scowl shifted into a satisfied grin. “Watch me,” she growled, her nose crinkling with the almost animalistic snarl that consumed her face. She released the door entirely, stomping her boot down on my foot in the same moment she jabbed the side of her hand into the front of my throat.
My breath cut off. Sharp pain erupted through my throat as she crushed it. Her second strike went to my balls while I was still reeling from the fact that the vicious thing had attacked me. I covered my groin with both hands to protect myself from the foot she raised, leaving my chest open as she used it to shove me back a step.
I didn’t go far, but it was enough.
She retreated with speed I rarely saw in even the most well-trained witches, grabbing the door and pulling it closed while I gaped after her. My throat pushed out, uncrushing and healing, as I rotated my head from one side to another.
Fucking witches.
The curtains on the front windows pulled closed even though she was nowhere to be seen in them, leaving me to turn to face that Hell-damned mailbox at the end of the driveway. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket, dialing Juliet’s number.
I descended the three steps that led to the ground in front of the porch, pressing it to the side of my face as I stared at the too-quiet house.
“Do you have her?” Juliet asked, and the sound of the SUV starting came through the call.
“No. She knows what we are. I want eyes on every exit point from the house,” I snapped, grinding my jaw as I walked around to the backyard and forcing myself to listen for any sound of escape. I’d be damned if she snuck out while I was alone.
“Got it,” Juliet said, undoubtedly shifting the car into gear. With no need for discretion any longer, she’d floor it down the road to close the minimal distance in no time.
“And Juliet? When she does surface, she’s mine. Is that understood?” I asked, wincing as I took a step and my balls throbbed with pain.
Juliet was silent for a moment, thinking before a harsh chuckle bubbled free. “The witch got the jump on you, didn’t she?”
“I underestimated her,” I admitted, staring at the closed curtains on the back of the small, green house. “I won’t make that mistake twice.”
5
WILLOW
“Get your bag,” I ordered, glaring at Ash and hurrying toward the small pantry closet off the kitchen. I hauled open the door, kneeling in front of the panel in the floor. My fingers felt along the edge, searching for the tiny groove where they would just slip in, and lifted the wood to reveal the rough, shabby staircase my mom and I had built ourselves when I’d turned sixteen.
“Low, what is that?” Ash asked, hiking his backpack up on his shoulders. I stood, placing a hand on the small of his back and pushing him into the dark. I flicked on the light to the hidden basement, illuminating the dirt floor at the base of the steps.
“Down you go,” I said, trying to keep the urgency from my voice. I didn’t want to frighten him—not when there were so many things he didn’t know. But with the Vessel waiting outside and plotting a way to force us out of the house, we needed to move.
He descended the stairs quickly, leaving me to slip into the narrow passage and pull the wood panel closed above me to cover our tracks. Every moment would count when it came to getting Ash out. With his powers bound, he would be safe from the Coven until I died at the very least—the ropes of his binding forged with grasses summoned by my magic.
I moved to one of the paneled walls of the basement, sliding the wood to the side to reveal the massive tree roots that had grown and spread beneath the passage that would lead us to freedom. It was why Mom had chosen this house, this place, as our sanctuary. The trees here went deep underground, making it easy for us to create tunnels beneath the surface.
“What are you doing?” Ash asked as I ran a palm over the first tree root. I grabbed the knife and sheath off the shelves of supplies in the basement, strapping the holster across my thigh and forcing myself to ignore the confused pain on my brother’s face.
This was the day I’d dreaded, the day that all our deceptions came to light.
I watched his face, his little forehead creased in confusion as I pulled the knife from the sheath.
“Willow,” he said, stepping forward as if to stop me when I drew the sharpened edge of the blade against my palm. A thin line sliced through, blood seeping through too slowly as I clenched it and pressed my fingertips into the wound. I held Ash’s horrified stare as I reached out with my palm covered in my blood, touching it to the tree root.