Page 105 of Death Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

A dais anchored the far end. The double doors were carved with exquisite detail, and the long live-edge table dominated the room, dark polished wood framed by the pale marble around it. One entire wall held the magical board, a screen of shifting lights marking trouble spots across the town. Shelving units held vials and jars that looked harmless until you remembered nothing in this room was harmless.

And the room was full.

Not just the regular council members. More bodies. More tension. More eyes.

Hunter stood near the table, jaw tight, posture rigid with the strain of being pulled away from containment. Carnell lounged with too much ease for the situation, but his gaze was shrewd. Greyson stood near the magical board, phone in hand. Caton sat with his attention split between the table and the doorway as if he still expected Mina to run in bleeding. Elijah was present, watchful and quiet.

Lucinda was waiting.

Livid did not cover it. She looked like a storm dressed as a woman.

The moment we stepped in, her voice hit the marble and echoed.

“There you are,” she snapped, eyes locking on me. “Finally.”

I kept my shoulders square even though my insides wanted to curl. “We left right after you did.”

Lucinda’s laugh was cold. “Hardly. You caused an incident at the university.”

Faith moved closer to my side, a silent anchor. “The zombies caused the incident.”

Lucinda ignored her and stepped toward me, anger rolling off her in waves. “You are a problem, Salima. Everywhere you go, the situation worsens. You fail to contain. You fail to heal. You fail to follow directions.”

My hands curled at my sides. “I did not summon the undead.”

Lucinda’s eyes glittered. “If you do not get your magic under control, you will regret it.”

The words landed hard.

The room went still for half a second, like everyone felt the heat of that threat.

Faith moved fast.

She stepped right into Lucinda’s space, close enough that Lucinda had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact.

“Was that a threat,” Faith asked, voice low and dangerous. “Are you threatening to kill her?”

Lucinda’s expression did not change, but her eyes narrowed. “Do not be melodramatic.”

Faith did not blink. “Answer.”

Lucinda’s smile returned, thin and controlled. “It is within my power to cut her from the coven.”

Faith’s jaw clenched. “That is still a threat. You know exactly what happens when someone is cut off. There are no guarantees Eve can pull her into her coven.”

Lucinda’s gaze slid past Faith to me, as if Faith were a nuisance she would deal with later. “If she cannot perform, she does not deserve protection.”

Carnell’s voice cut in, smooth but lethal. “Careful, Lucinda.”

Lucinda turned her glare on him. “This is coven business. You have no say over witches.”

Carnell did not rise to the bait. He simply leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing. “There is more at play here than your personal dislike. If you cut Salima off now, you have no concept of the repercussions.”

Lucinda’s nostrils flared. “Do not lecture me about repercussions. I lead this coven.”

Carnell’s smile did not reach his eyes. “You lead it, yes. But you do not own the laws of magic.”

Greyson’s gaze flicked to me, then to Lucinda, and his mouth tightened as if he agreed with Carnell.