Mom shook her head and continued, “If someone did something stupid, we’d be met with,What are you, a Swan?”
Faith smirked.“It’s like the Hatfields and McCoys.”
“You’re not wrong,” I said.“Back in the day, Gran was on the Wicches’ Council, and she worked behind the scenes to cast the Swans in a bad light whenever she could.Uncle Robert, as to why now, I think the feud went from petty irritations to murder because Calliope and Catherine had some sort of arrangement.Cal used the Swans to do her dirty work with the promise of magical rewards, exactly what Catherine has always wanted.She’s obsessed with proving their superiority over Coreys.”
I rubbed my forehead, annoyed at the sudden headache.“When Cal was…” I tried not to think about the athame flying from my hand into Cal’s heart but failed miserably.“When Catherine no longer had access to a sorcerer for gifts of enhanced magic, I think she went a little crazy.She was so close to having the upper hand, but then it was gone again.She didn’t have a demon to call up, so she turned to black magic to get what she wanted.”
“So, when we go to the meeting next week,” Faith began, “how do we show them that we’re not doing what Coreys have always done?”She looked between Mom and me.“How do we get them to understand that we’re not being petty?That they really are torturing people to do black magic.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Mom said.“I think we need Arwyn to be the one to speak at the meeting.”
My stomach dropped.“Why am I getting thrown under the bus?We made you a nice meal.On our best plates.”
“I’m sorry, darling,” she said.“If I speak—which I recognize is my responsibility as the head of the family.If I speak, they’ll only believe I’m continuing the family bias.”
She glanced around the table, then back at me.“You’re different.You’ve never engaged in any intrafamily squabbles.You’re a world-renowned artist with a gallery that’s made the news.I used to go to Wicche Counsel meetings with your Gran and Great-Gran.They know me.And while most probably think I’m the same as those who came before me, you’re different.There are no preconceived notions about you.There’s only curiosity, and that’s a better starting place.”
I stared down at the beautiful dining table, my stomach twisting.“I know you’re right.I’ll do it, but I won’t like it.”
“Is she in any danger, going to this meeting?”Declan asked.He was watching me, clearly not happy with the turn this conversation had taken.
Mom shook her head.“It’s been years since we’ve attended, but given who I believe will be there, Arwyn will be the most powerful wicche in the room.”
“Until someone touches her,” Declan argued.
“Don’t forget,” Bracken said, “I’ll be there too.I won’t let anything happen to her.”
Declan and Bracken shared a look, then Declan nodded.
“Okay, but do we have any actual evidence to present?”Faith asked.
“Not really,” I said.“We have video of someone outside our homes, but we can’t prove it’s Milena.We have video evidence of what Milo did in the gallery, but the only tie between the tortured man and the Swans is my vision.I could be a big, fat liar as far as the Council is concerned.”
I slumped in my seat.“I’m going to need to ask Osso if I could touch the hand again.”A shiver ran through me.“See if I can direct the vision to give me more information that might help us prove our case.”
THIRTY
An Ocean-Tossed Night
We talked a little more, but it was getting late, so we called it.I’d contact Osso in the morning to see if he could get me into the morgue again.Declan and I cleaned up, then headed for the bedroom.
We got changed and met in the middle of the huge bed.He wrapped his arms around me and I snuggled in, already starting to doze.
“I wanted to ask a question at dinner,” he said, “but I didn’t want to offend your mom.”
I did my best to surface.“What’s that?”
“Catherine had to have had that baby—what—forty-six years ago?Your mom said William hit on her, and she didn’t say he was a little kid when he did it.”
“Okay?”I had no idea what he was getting at.My brain had probably already fallen asleep.
“Wasn’t it a scandal back then to be an unwed mother?”he asked.
“Oh.That.Probably in human society.Wicches don’t have that issue.We’re matriarchal and celebrate new life.We also mostly keep to ourselves.I mean, we share the same world, but we only associate with our own kind.”Sighing, I looked up at him.“For safety’s sake, we try to live as separately as we can.We don’t forget how we were hunted and killed by fearful, hate-filled humans.”
I wrapped my arm around his waist.“Did Mom deal with whispers when she was pregnant with me?Probably.Mostly that was because she was clearly the most powerful and the next in line.There were whispers when she did anything.In royalty, there’s a hierarchy and a specific order of who’s in line for the throne.Wicches are like that, except our order is based on power.Gran was on the throne, not because of who her mother was or her birth order.She was there because she was the most powerful of her generation.”
“Okay, but how do they know?How do they measure who’s the strongest baby?”he asked.
