Mor shakes her head. “Selena warned that if we become the aggressors, it’s us who could be banished. We don’t get to decide the laws.”
My teeth grind together at the unfairness of the situation.
I cradle Mor tight against my chest until, eventually, she slips into a fitful sleep. But I don’t slumber, my mind shuffling through possibilities that will keep my new family safe.
There is one I can’t deny. A solution that would fix everything.
But how high will the cost be?
Whatever it is, for Mor’s safety and peace of mind, I’m willing to pay it.
Carefully, I roll my witch onto her side and slip out of the bed, my steps soft now that I know which floorboards creek. I slink down the steps and out into the chill night. Instead of transforming, I set off at a steady jog in my human form, letting the idea turn around and around in my head. Making sure I’ve examined all the angles and I’m still satisfied with my decision.
By the time I reach his house, my mind has not changed.
I pause at the edge of the barrier that kept me back last time, but when I step forward, I’m allowed through.
Tonight, I mean him no harm.
My fist is a loud pound on the door, echoing through the mansion the monster built for himself in the far corner of Lake Galen.
He keeps me waiting, but I keep my patience. This is too important to let my prejudices creep forward.
Finally, the door swings inward, revealing a smirking Sev.
“Well, if it isn’t my old friend Bosephus. What did I do to deserve this”—he flicks his eyes to how close I am to his front door—“nonviolent visit?”
“I want to make a deal.”
He blinks once.
Twice.
Then his smirk curls into a satisfied grin.
“In that case, do come in.” Sev turns his back on me—a clear message that he’s not scared of me in the slightest—and strolls into the depths of his house.
I follow after, shutting the door behind me and praying to the gods that I am still able to depart at the end of this conversation.
I trail him to a sitting room that’s full of furniture that looks like he bought it at a Dracula garage sale. Old, fancy, and possibly hiding bloodstains. He settles onto the most ornate chair, as if perching on a throne, but makes no indication that I should sit. That’s fine. I’d rather stand even if it gives the dynamic of a peasant begging royalty for a favor.
“Two new witches came to town yesterday. Helena and Alistair Shelly.”
“The parents of your precious librarian,” he says.
I’m not sure if he already knew they were here or if he simply used deductive reasoning. Either way, I nod.
And there’s no point in being coy about how I feel toward Mor. I don’t plan to love her quietly.
“I want you to make them leave town.”
Sev raises a single brow. “You don’t get along with the future in-laws? This is a drastic step, don’t you think?”
“You don’t need to know my reasons.”
“No, I don’t. But Iwantto know. And what I want I get, or you have no hope of convincing me to make a deal.”
I clench my fists, then relax them.
