Nick: 2pm is fine.
Mase: Perfect. I’ll meet you in the car park when you arrive.
Putting my phone away, I got out of the car and headed towards the front door of the pub, apprehension growing with each step. I usually enjoyed catching up with the six members of my coven who lived near me. We tried to do it at least a couple of times a month because it was important to keep our bonds strong.
Our magic was better that way.
Bitterness spiked, taking me by surprise. It’d been a long while since I’d let it affect me like that. I rubbed the inside of my wrist, not needing to look down to know where the mark was.
Closing my eyes, I stopped and took a second to get myself together.
Everyone in my coven knew about my situation, but it wasn’t just the usual six waiting for me inside the pub today. I wasn’t as close with the rest of them, and I was in no hurry to let them see how wearing the council’s binding mark still tormented me.
I couldn’t stay outside forever though; no doubt some of them had sensed my presence already. Gritting my teeth, I pushed open the heavy wooden door and walked into the pub.
The Black Cat was owned by a witch and staffed by non-humans. Had been for as long as I’d lived here. But that didn’t mean humans didn’t frequent it. On my walk to the bar, I counted at least seven.
Solomon greeted me with a flirty smile as I approached him. “You want a drink before you go on through?”
A nice cold pint was incredibly appealing after the morning I’d had, but I needed a clear head for seeing Zane. “Not this time, thanks.” I gestured off to the side where a corridor led to a private meeting room. “They all in there?”
He nodded, adding, “Give or take a few, if you’re expecting all of them to show.”
Truth be told, I wasn’t. I didn’t think this was something that required the whole coven. “I’d better get in there, then.”
He nodded, let his gaze trail over me once more, then turned to serve a customer. Solomon was an attractive man. His black curly hair and wide smile did it for me, and under other circumstances, I would definitely have tried my luck.
But the mark on my wrist wasn’t common knowledge outside my coven. The council had sanctioned it, but at the request of my coven hadn’t broadcasted the fact, and the last thing I needed was another witch recognising the mark for what it was.
Solomon was off-limits for at least another three years.
The door to the back room stood ajar, but no voices drifted down the corridor to meet me. Either everyone in the room was sat in silence—doubtful—or they’d already cast a silencing spell. My money was on the latter.
I pushed open the door. The telltale tingle of magic washed over me as I crossed the threshold, and I shivered. Twelve heads swivelled in my direction. Not as many as I’d expected but more than I wanted.
Which was shitty of me, and I knew it. My whole coven was great. I was lucky that they readily took me in after being forced to leave my own. Everything that had happened was my own fucking fault, and I shouldn’t blame them for the council’s decision to mark me with that binding spell.
But a part of me did blame them. Couldn’t help it.
And they knew it.
Yet despite that, I was greeted by nothing but warmth in the faces looking back at me.
David Asher, the leader of our coven, stood and came over to greet me, tugging me into a hug.
Swallowing down the instinct to hold myself stiff, I relaxed into it, David’s magic curling around me, recognising me asfamily.
“How are you?” He stood back, hands on my shoulders, grip loose but firmly reassuring.
This was what I needed.
Despite my reticence about coming here today, they were all on my side, and I needed to acknowledge that anything else was all in my head. I was far too stubborn to accept that sometimes I needed the reassurance and comfort of the people sat in this room.
The last few weeks had taken a toll, whether I wanted to admit it or not.
Zane was one of my closest friends, and not only had he lied and put my friends lives in danger, he’d used a memory spell on me, Mase, and Callum Walker.
I’d worked for him in the days afterwards. He’d looked me in the eye and carried on as if everything was normal.
