“You think they’ll come?”
“They will,” I said, surprised by how certain I sounded. “Poppy is one of the witches leading the coven. She helped us stop Magnus.”
“You know Poppy?” he said, shaking his head, his expression becoming incredulous. “Why am I not even surprised?”
“Wait. You’ve met her?”
“Last year. She was there when Jeremy—when I became alpha. Thierry called her for backup when we realized the bleeds were active again.”
“Huh. Small world.”
“Even smaller than I thought, apparently.”
“Look, I’ll call Cole and have him talk to his brother. Thierry’s close friends with Poppy and her mate, Simone. They’ll come if we ask.”
Reed’s eyebrows shot up. “We?”
There wasn’t a single chance in hell he was doing any part of this alone. “Yeah.We.”
Reed’s throat worked, as if he wanted to protest. But then he nodded sharply. “Okay,” he said at last, the word rough. “You’re right. We need to ask them for help.”
* * *
Just as I predicted, when I called him, Cole agreed to relay the message that we needed the coven’s help. And they came, right before nightfall. Reed was beside me, his hand in mine, as we waited at the edge of the circular gravel parking lot. The rest of the pack stood behind us, watching. Tamrand was with us as well, his expression pinched tight with worry.
“Here they come,” Reed said, tilting his head to the side, as if listening.
The witches arrived a moment later—two black SUVs that looked like they didn’t belong on the unpaved road. They were too sleek and pristine for a place so thoroughly natural, with its moss-covered log cabins, looming evergreens, and dirt walkways. They parked beside Reed’s truck in the gravel lot.
Poppy exited first. She was a short, thin witch in her twenties, with long flowing red hair, sharp blue eyes, and pale, freckled skin. I could almost see the magic crackling around her like a halo of power—something that hadn’t happened when we’d first met.
Exactly like with Daniel.
Weird. I’d never seen magic before coming to Crescent Springs. Now it was happening every other day. Was this another side effect of the mate bond?
“Can you see that?” I asked, glancing over at Reed.
He didn’t have to ask what I meant—he merely nodded, his spine rigid.
Then, out of the same car, stepped a tall blonde woman, perhaps in her late forties or early fifties, with a severeexpression on her regal features. She was dressed in an all-black skirt suit so expertly tailored it looked like it might’ve been some high-end designer brand. Then came an older, matronly woman, also dressed all in black, with her salt-and-pepper hair in a tight bun, a somber look on her face as her gaze settled on us. I recognized them both—vaguely—from the rapid-fire introductions I’d gotten at Thierry’s wedding. The first one was Tatiana, the witch queen of Seattle, and the other was Wynn, the eldest member of the witches’ council.
Then there was Simone, the dark-skinned vampire who was mated to Poppy. She was dressed in a flowing ruby-colored gown. She took the redheaded witch’s hand with a radiant smile. Her dark eyes swept over each of us in turn, seeming to miss nothing. I had met her once before, at the same time I’d met Poppy. Despite her incredible age—Cole had once told me she was one of the oldest vampires he’d ever personally met—she was surprisingly down-to-earth and kind, in her own way.
She caught my eye and nodded at me, recognition flashing across her face.
I nodded back.
From the rear of the second car, a thin, white-haired warlock with violet eyes, dressed in a black suit, stepped out. I could see a shimmer of power around him the same way I had with Poppy, like heat rising off pavement. A tall, broad-shouldered vampire with sandy hair was right behind him, dressed in an identical black suit.
“Holy shit,” Reed whispered, his gaze fixed on the sandy-haired vampire. “That’s Nathaniel Bailey, the vampire king of Seattle, and his mate Ethan. I wasn’t expecting them to come.”
“You’re the alpha,” Emma replied from behind us. “He must have come as a sign of respect. His husband, Ethan, is the future leader of the Seattle witches. Him and Poppy both.”
Reed’s gaze settled on the white-haired warlock. He didn’t say anything more, but I could feel his anxiety. I squeezed his hand reassuringly.
From the last vehicle, two more witches emerged that I didn’t recognize. They formed a line behind the others, facing us.
“Tatiana, the wolves of Crescent Springs thank you for answering our call,” Reed said, addressing the regal-looking blonde witch with a bow of his head.
