“I believe that concludes your time, Councilor,” Vivica’s voice rings out as Renard seethes. “Ms. Byrke—I’ve heard such lovely things about you from my daughters, it’s wonderful to make your acquaintance. Setting aside your unique powers for the moment, how have you been adjusting to life as a witch?”
Is she serious? “I’ve had better days.”
She chuckles. “I’m sure. It can be difficult to shoulder a burden such as this. Most witches have a coven to support and guide them—have you given any thought to joining one now that your powers have awoken?”
“Not yet, no.”
“As Head of the Witch’s Council and Matriarch of my own coven, I feel a sense of responsibility for one so young and without direction. Is there anything you need at present?”Without direction? Awfully presumptuous of her. I know exactly where I’m going as soon as I get the chance: the fuck away from all this shit.
Her attempt at killing me with kindness is a nice touch, but, “I think I’m good for now. Thanks.”
“You are most welcome. I have asked my coven to look through our grimoire for any mention of blood magic or Bloodwitches, and I will send word through my daughters if I find if our search is fruitful. Grandmaster, I’ve also tasked the Council Archivist with the same search, and will notify you if there’s anything useful to report.”
Brandt nods, “Thank you, Councilor, that will be most helpful as we continue Ms. Byrke’s education.”
She nods to Amadeus. “Councilman Mondragon, I yield my time.”
He grumbles, but doesn’t bother answering her. Instead, we stare at one another. And keep staring. Then his eyes flash green, and he smirks cruelly.
“Ms. Byrke. Is it true that you’ve been associating with my son, Ramsey?” All three Heirs eyes focus on me at his question, and part of me wonders if they’re going to try and call me out for bending the truth.
“That depends on who you talk to and how much they like to gossip.” I shrug.
“You’ve been seen together over the last several months. Are you in a romantic relationship with him?”
I quirk my head in faux confusion—there is zero chance I’m sharing anything about Ramsey to the man that maimed him. “Why do you ask?”
“Much like you are currently the world’s only Bloodwitch, he is the only Moratus dragon.” He turns his predatory glare to the Headmaster. “Headmaster Church, you now have arguably two of the most powerful wielders of our time at your school, bothof whom currently have a tenuous control over their abilities at best. It is merely a matter of time before one of them causes irreparable damage. Do you truly believe other students are safe?”
The Headmaster doesn’t falter when he responds to King Shitbag. “Yes, Councilor, I do. The faculty at Dreadhurst is second to none, and fully capable of?—”
“Letting their students get thrashed so thoroughly their powers decimate wards that have been in place for over four hundred years?”
“As I said, Councilor, that brief lapse in judgement has already been addressed?—”
“I distinctly recall warning this Council and the Deadhurst Board of Trustees against admitting Ramsey to prevent this kind of disaster, and here you’ve gone and admitted someone who could—who alreadyhas—put not only our students at risk but our entire way of life. If her power had gotten through your attempt to contain it, Grandmaster Brandt, can you say with any certainty that it wouldn’t have targeted humans?”
Even though Amadeus is literally talking down to Brandt, he ignores the dragon king’s challenge. “No, Councilor, I cannot say definitively one way or another.” Amadeus smirks and opens his mouth, but Brandt isn’t finished. “However—as the world’s only Grandmaster of the Fourth Order who’s been teaching students, including some on this very Council, longer than you’ve been alive—I am the only one qualified to not only assess that risk, but mitigate it. There is simply nowhere else on this continent where these students would be safer as they learn to master their powers.”
Amadeus’ eyes begin to glow a sickly green and I wonder if he might crack, but after a moment he merely smiles that same toothy, predatory grin. “Then we are fortunate indeed, to havesuch an accomplished and dedicated educator at our disposal. I yield my time to you, Councilman Altair.”
Out of all the assholes I’ve spoken to today, the Unseelie Fae unnerves me the most. Every breath, every movement is deliberately precise and intentional. He doesn’t fidget or twitch or otherwise react to the other Council members. He just stares at me with yellow eyes that delve under my skin, framed by blue-black hair that falls down to his shoulders, highlighting sharp, refined features.
When he finally speaks, his voice winds around my body like a vine until I can’t look away. “Ms. Byrke. With such a marvelous power, Fate has surely smiled upon you. A word of warning, however, that the stars are not the only ones watching what becomes of this gift, Daughter of Night.” Icy dread falls down my spine at his words, and then I’m released from whatever hold had on me when he looks to Councilman Foucault.
His aquiline nose framed by deep-set brown eyes gives him an air of old-world aristocracy, and when he speaks with an accented voice to announce he has no further questions, I can almost imagine he actually was.
Renard adjourns the hearing after that, informing us that we’ll be notified when deliberations are over. With that dismissal, Church and Brandt lead the way out of the Council chamber. This time, I don’t give Roth the chance to sneak up behind me, peeling off from the group to hang back with Augustine as the others walk to the portal mirror.
“Bad news, Auggie,” I say quietly. “Pretty sure I pissed all of them off.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “I expected nothing, and I’m still disappointed.”
33
RAMSEY
There’s something wrong with that fucking cat.
