“Yeah...” Caitlyn said slowly. “You’re really giving me Debbie Jellinsky vibes.” Isadora sneered, but Caitlyn continued, “And if you had even one ounce of sense rattling around in that sea-foam brain of yours, you’d realize thatnoneof the witches in Briar Coven are full-blooded. We’re all part succubus, you self-centered bitch.”
If I hadn’t already started to fall for this beautiful witch I’d only met last night, I was falling hard for her now. I’d already noticed the way she rambled when she was nervous, but in this moment—self-assured and unflinching—sheoozedconfidence, and I loved every second of it.
“It was never about you not being a full-blooded witch,” Caitlyn went on. “The magic never accepted you because you’re an absolute dog turd of a person. You don’t deserve to find love. You don’t deserve a house that looks after you. Because—guess what? You actually have to put the effort in too. You need to—”
While Isadora seemed perfectly content talking about herself, her patience snapped the moment she was criticized. Her mouth opened—but nothing came out.
Or rather, thanks to the earbuds, nothingIcould hear came out.
A second later, it became painfully clear who she’d directed her song toward.
Priscilla’s eyes glazed over, her features smoothing into something eerily serene. Her arms, which had remained crossed until now, fell slack at her sides. Her hand slipped into her purse, and she drew out a large, iridescent shell.
Caitlyn barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think my house gives off seashore vibes. Keep your tacky decorations to yourself!”
“Do not let Priscilla anywhere near you,” I murmured to the house. I flicked my gaze toward the window by the door andspotted Creep, her little hand pressed to the glass as she watched Priscilla approach.
“She’s under her mother’s compulsion,” I continued quietly. “She can’t help it. But if she gets that conch to you, Isadora will make you try to hurt us.”
Creep’s eyes snapped to mine. Then she looked back at Priscilla, who was already more than halfway across the field.
“And as for you,” Isadora snapped, glaring me up and down. “I can see you’ve had a feed since the last time I saw you—”
“Blaise, protect Caitlyn. I’ll take Isadora,” I murmured, stepping in front of my mates and flaring my wings.
I caught Blaise wrapping an arm protectively around Caitlyn, ready to pin her in place if Isadora attempted another song. I drew in their scents—Blaise’s cardamom and sandalwood, now laced with the coppery tang of barely restrained murder, mingling with Caitlyn’s honeysuckle. Her scent still carried that faint undercurrent of caution, the lingering urge she’d been pushing down our bond, begging us not to attack just yet.
“Ambrose,” Caitlyn shouted, “you can’t! Not until she—”
Isadora barked a silent command, this one aimed squarely at Caitlyn.
My mate’s lips snapped shut. She struggled for a heartbeat before that familiar hazy look slid over her eyes.
Fuck this,I thought. Whatever it was that had Caitlyn urging us to hold back wasn’t worth putting her in even more danger.
I flared my wings, ready to launch into the air and slice Isadora’s throat with the razor-like blades of my feathers when Isadora’s gaze slid to Blaise.
The sung command that followed was drowned out by the earbuds—but judging by the way Caitlyn’s face contorted in horror, it wasbad.
I had just enough time to register the murderous creak of rage rolling from the house, the splintering crack of wood as Creep finally lost her patience—
And then the oddest thing happened.
One second, I was staring at my mates standing at the foot of the porch. The next, there was no porch, nor a house at all.
I spun on my heel and froze. Where Isadora had been standing seconds earlier, the house now stood instead. Creep appeared in the window, lifted one small hand, and gave us a jolly little wave before disappearing back into the depths of the house.
Caitlyn finally managed to pry her lips apart just as Priscilla came to an abrupt halt in front of us, the conch slipping from her fingers and hitting the ground with a softthunk.
“Did...” Blaise started. “Did... Creep just Wicked Witch of the East her?”
All four of us scanned the ground, searching for any sign of Isadora’s legs sticking out from beneath the house.
But no scrawny legs in red heels were visible anywhere along the base of the house.
Still,somethinghad clearly happened to Isadora. Her compulsion over Caitlyn and Priscilla had broken.
I glanced at Priscilla. Her eyes were wide, her brows slack with relief, but the corners still burned with unshed tears. I could only hope she had managed to get the answers she needed from her mother in time.
