Now, as she stood in the midst of this room, she could only feel a sense of—peace, that she had done something worthwhile.
“How do you feel, Miss St. Clair?” Heloise asked. The older lady had introduced herself earlier as the woman with whom Lady Erica had recently roomed in the village.
“I’m… not sure.” Marlene frowned slightly and closed her palm. “Not really any different.”
“It is certain to take some time,” Lady Catharine said smoothly, as she moved to her side. “I think you should lie down now. Get some rest in order for it to take the full effect.”
Marlene looked at her curiously. “Is that how it’s supposed to work?”
“Sometimes.”
She wasn’t entirely sure that the lady was telling the full truth, but she had watched Alaric cut his palm with her own eyes. That was the missing piece she had needed to complete the circle. At least, that was what she had been told. She was starting to wonder if it had all been nothing more than an illusion to pacify her.
Nevertheless, Marlene decided that she would allow them to take this win and left the room.
Once she was gone, Alaric moved his hand and removed the blood that he had added to the knife, as well as the wound on his hand. “Who came up with the asinine idea that Miss St. Clair should become one of us?”
“I fear that honor belongs to me,” Gerald said without any remorse or reservation. “But the rest of the members agreed.”
Alaric walked to the edge of their circle and glared at each of them in turn. “Listen now and listen well. I will not allow Miss St. Clair to be deceived in this manner. She is not aware of the full implications that this will cause. She will be hunted down like a fox, forced to live her life in a hole like the rest of us, for fear that she will swing from the noose.”
“Most of us live rather normal lives,” Lady Catharine spoke up. “In truth, I’m quite content with my status in the world of witches. Now that some of the excitement has died down.”
“How long do you imagine this peace might last?” Alaric snapped. “There will always be those who would dare to strip us of everything that we are, because they believe we will alter their entire way of thinking with our forward ideals. They do not attack us because of our bloodline, but out of fear. It can be a powerful deterrent when there is a crowd of people with torches at our front doors. They have gathered at my stoop more than once, and I know they have each of yours as well. And yet, you would dare to allow another to endure the same torment when she can be spared?”
He was satisfied when no one said anything further. Even Lady Catharine was smart enough not to speak when he was upset. “Under no circumstances is Miss St. Clair to be told that she is not truly wicca. We can defeat Hector on our own, if you would but just place your faith in me. In all of us.”
Heloise gave a heavy sigh. “We were wrong to act against your will, High Priest. It shall not happen again.”
He inclined his head as she placed her hand in the center of their circle. The rest of them slowly did the same. The last to do so was Lady Catharine and Gerald, but seeing that their plan was defeated, they offered their loyalty as well. “Very good,” Alaric murmured. “Now let us gather together and defeat our enemy.”
Once he had explained what he planned to do, the eleven other members nodded in unison. “It is a good plan,” Docine noted. She was the newest member, having joined their numbers just six months before when Ancor had fallen at the hands of the local magistrate. That was what concerned Alaric even more than Hector. He knew that the hunt had never fully diminished when it came to killing those of his kind. And it would never stop. At least, not in his lifetime.
“If we are all of one accord, let’s join hands.” As they all made a ring in the center of the room, Alaric began to recite the sacred language of his ancestors, while praying to God that they didn’t all perish in this quest.
Marlene rose the next morning feeling the same as she ever had. She was convinced now, more than ever, that the process of initiation had been smoke and mirrors. She should have known that Alaric wouldn’t have allowed her to change so much of herself, just to save him. He thought he was unbreakable, able to withstand anything—even the devil himself.
She worried that would be his demise.
Nevertheless, she told herself that she wouldn’t stand by and wait for something bad to happen. She intended to make some preparations of her own.
She snatched the key from the lantern and snuck it into her pocket once she’d dressed. She knew that plans were going to start moving ahead for the masquerade ball that would take place by the week’s end. She’d had to hear about it from Lady Erica last evening at dinner, because Alaric hadn’t seen fit to tell her about any of it. She knew that he wanted her to stay as far away from Hector as possible, but then, he obviously didn’t know her very well. She might have been timid and afraid when she’d first arrived at Rosedale Heights, but too much had happened in the interim for her to hide any longer. The struggles she had endured thus far, along with the knowledge of her past, had given her a new insight into the kind of woman she was. She did not want to see the sacrifices her parents had made on her behalf to have been made in vain. They had lost their lives to an evil witch, and she would not allow him to prevail.
This was not just Alaric’s fight. Nor focused on that of his coven.
It was hers too.
She left her chamber and sought out the one person she knew would be able to offer her any sort of assistance. Although she hadn’t been too sure of Lady Catharine’s welcome the day before, she was not about to shy away from a challenge.
Lady Erica had told her that she had been given rooms in the west wing, so Marlene headed in that direction. She spied Gerald, the man with the long blond hair she’d met in the orangery, leaving his chamber. He glanced up and saw her, offering a slight smile. “Miss St. Clair.”
She inclined her head. “Good day.” She wasn’t exactly sure if she should address him as sir, Mr. Gerald, or just plain Gerald. Since she was uncertain, she went with a neutral greeting that ensured she didn’t have to use any of them. “Might you point me in the direction of Lady Catharine’s rooms?”
His grin widened. “Coming to plead your case, are you?”
“How did you—” She shook her head and answered her own question. He was a witch. “Never mind.”
He pointed to the door directly opposite his. “That is where you shall find the mistress of the night.”
