Iris’s brows furrow, and she glances down at the table.
“What did Aster say?” Iris asks.
“She said that I took her magic from her when I was born, and she decided to live a human life. That she probably put me up for adoption because she couldn’t handle what I did to her.”
I glance over at Violet. She hadn’t told me this yet. It doesn’t match the same mother who set up a nursery, wrote letters, and clearly worked very hard on a necklace to preserve her other half.
“You don’t believe her,” Iris says and Violet shakes her head.
“It just doesn’t make sense, none of it. Why can no one truly remember my mother?” Violet asks.
The two other witches look contemplative.
“You told him this before us?” Iris asks, and Violet shakes her head.
“No, he didn’t know what grand-mère said before now.”
Iris looks at me, her eyes going hazy for a moment, and she quickly looks away.
“How can we help?” Ember says in an upbeat voice that makes Violet smile. I eye the witch, wondering why she’s so suddenly eager to help Violet and not concerned about going behind her High Priestess’ back.
“Grand-mère can’t know what we’re up to. We can’t bring anyone else in from the coven, not yet. I need to work on getting this issue resolved,” she says, shoving a thumb in my direction. “I also need to find out what really happened.”
“Is it not in the past?” Iris asks.
Violet simply shakes her head no, and Iris sighs.
“Ember can look through the archives. Her grandmother has some of the best kept histories of the coven. I’ll help with this situation,” Iris says, glancing at the two of us. “What do you have so far?”
Violet blushes, and it’s endearing. “Not much.”
Iris rubs her temples, clearly frustrated with the lack of initiative on our end.
“I have an idea. I need to talk to the shifter alone,” Iris says.
Violet looks panicked, but Ember takes her hand as they go out into the backyard. I watch from the window as Ember uses her gift to regrow and revive some less than fortunate plants in her backyard.
“Are you going to be a hindrance in reversing this spell?” Iris asks.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I reply, and she narrows her eyes at me. I cross my arms over my chest and she mimics the motion, not backing down for a moment.
“We could lock you up and toss you into the basement.”
“This house doesn’t have a basement, and I’d simply shift and free myself.”
“We could confine you to the house.”
“You could,” I reply, staring down at the formidable witch.
“Violet is a lot softer than she looks, if you think I’m going to let you fall back into her life and tear her apart again, you’re dead fucking wrong.”
Confusion is riddled on my face as I speak. “She left, not me.”
“Please, as if she had a choice. The first months she was here, all she would do is cry over you and endlessly talk about you to the point where I would wish for my hearing to give out. She’s my sister and I’ll have her back no matter what. That includes ruining you if you hurt her.”
“We’re working towards dissolving this marriage,” I remind Iris, who rolls her eyes.
She pulls out her wand, just toying with it, not threatening me directly.
