Katherine knew why Sylvia wasn’t naming her. The basic details of Katherine’s past were known by most of Aestas’ members, but aside from Fiona and Sylvia, no one knew the full truth. She was a murderer, the blood of three teenagers on her hands. Although Noctis’ policy officially welcomed formerly unsettled witches once they’d settled,there were limits to what they’d be willing to forgive. They wouldn’t abide a killer in one of their covens.
So she kept her mouth shut, even though she was dying to jump in and be another slap in the face of the ignorant viewpoints Silas spewed.
Katherine didn’t know what she was expecting Silas to do at Sylvia’s declaration that there was an unsettled witch in their dining room—probably something along the lines of screaming “Back, devil, back” and running away in fear—but staring at Sylvia with open curiosity was not it. Suddenly, he looked less like a privileged ass and more like an English major who had just come across a signed edition of their favorite novel at a used book sale.
“I apologize,” Silas said. “Clearly I have some internal prejudices and a lack of knowledge on this subject. Hopefully you will forgive my ignorance and allow me to use my time here to learn more about the larger witch community.”
If Silas actually turned out to be nice and reasonable on top of everything else, Katherine was going to smash something.
“But, while I admire what you’re doing to help young witches, the wards remain a problem.”
Oh, thank goodness. He was still a dick.
Silas ran a hand through the thick waves of his dark hair. “As you know, per the handbook Section D, Subsection 17, a coven whose wards are found lacking has one week to get them up to par, otherwise we will need to pursue Noctis intervention.”
Katherine knew what Noctis intervention meant. Noctis intervention meant Sylvia losing her job. Noctis intervention meant assholes like Silas and Byron taking over her home. Noctis intervention meant unsettled witches dying alone.
“We will get those fixed immediately,” Sylvia promised, and Katherine hoped it was true.
“There’s one other matter to discuss,” Silas said. “Can you tell me about Libertad? According to my records, they have over twenty members, but they still haven’t signed with Noctis.”
Libertad was the East LA coven run by Niles Cabrera, a former member of Aestas who had broken off to form his own group a fewyears earlier. Katherine had first met him when she was an awkward, newly settled teenager and he was a twentysomething agitator yapping in Sylvia’s ear about the unequal distribution of magical wealth. Libertad refused to sign with Noctis, sharing all of its spells with all of its members, with no restrictions—none of the favors or money that other covens demanded for access to the most powerful spells in their libraries. Noctis, which ran off the tithes and payments other covens gave them in exchange for their advanced rune developments, detested Libertad’s existence.
Niles had recruited a couple dozen members in the last few years, but the coven was still held back without the support Noctis provided. They had managed to scrounge together one spellbook, but it was sparse, every rune in it hard-won through years of dangerous, painstaking research, done without any of the resources or safety nets Noctis had to do their spell developments. Despite Niles’ hatred of the official coven system, Katherine and Niles had formed a tenuous peace that had grown over the years into a solid friendship. She didn’t want to expose him to the annoyance of Silas Khatri, but she doubted she’d have a choice.
Sylvia waved a hand. “Nothing to be concerned about. LA is full of hippies who hate authority. They just enjoy being contrary.”
“I’d still like to meet with them,” Silas said. “We want all covens to be able to come to Noctis for assistance if they need it. We share the common goal of helping witches thrive without detection.”
He was reciting by rote from the handbook again. Per that handbook, offshoot covens like Niles’ that refused to abide by Noctis’ rules were one of the biggest dangers facing witches today. Katherine supposed no one had told them about car accidents or drug overdoses.
“We’re happy to help facilitate that,” Sylvia said. “Katherine is our liaison with Libertad and can assist in setting a meeting with you and their head, Niles Cabrera.”
Silas’ intense stare landed on Katherine again. She itched for him to look anywhere else. “Thank you, Katherine.” She hated the way her name sounded in his mouth—corporate and clipped, with an overemphasis on theKatpart.
Sylvia stood, picking up a small piece of gauze from a stack in the corner of her desk and using it to stem the bleeding from her palm. She handed one to Silas, but he waved her off, instead pulling an ornately embroidered handkerchief out of his pocket.
“Can you give us a few minutes to discuss arrangements?” Sylvia said.
Silas nodded, then stood and stepped into the hallway. He was so tall that his head nearly grazed the doorframe as he exited.
Katherine sighed in relief as the door creaked shut behind him, her body deflating. “God, he’s a jackass, isn’t he?” she said, trying to cut the tension.
Sylvia shook her head. “No, he was perfectly polite. Which is more worrisome, if you ask me.” Sylvia ran a hand through her hair. “He’s the spitting image of his mother.”
Katherine froze in her seat. Sylvia was very tight-lipped about her past. All Katherine knew were the basics—she’d been born in Pennsylvania and had run away to New York City after she got her magic, leaving behind a neglectful family she had no desire to continue speaking to. She never snapped, so she had no deaths on her conscience, and she’d even been able to be a part of Noctis for a few years before leaving to find a place more welcoming of unsettled witches. Katherine knew she’d known Silas’ parents—the current heads of Noctis, Vikrant and Nina Khatri—and knew that they had been a part of why she had left, but Sylvia had never given her any details of the hurt she’d experienced.
Katherine hoped Sylvia might reveal more, but instead she started to shuffle around papers on her desk. “I don’t like that he’s here,” she muttered. “I don’t like that they sent their son, and I don’t like that they sent an Executor instead of a Bookkeeper.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Katherine lied. She started running through a list of the wards that they’d need to fix, trying to calculate the amount of magic they’d need.
“Aestas is the largest coven in the country that isn’t run by either a member of the Khatri extended family or a person who’s directly in their pocket. Do you think Nina and Vikrant are okay with that? Because I don’t.”
Katherine bit the inside of her cheek, working at the same spot until she tasted the tang of blood against her tongue. “So we strengthen the wards,” she said. “And we make everything prim and proper and perfect, so he gets the hell out of our hair.”
Sylvia nodded, but her teeth still worried her lower lip.
Katherine shifted in her seat. “You can’t sell spells with Silas here.” Although Katherine couldn’t name the specific subsection, she knew that taking life force from ordinaries was strictly against the rules. “It’s too dangerous. If you get caught, Noctis’ll take away your magic forever.”
