Chapter 179: Frenemies
I knew I was in for more than I'd planned the moment I passed through the house wards and into the kitchen. There were strangers here, the feel of them clear to me now they weren't masked by the protections wrapping our house in magic.
It took me a moment to decide what to do. I heard voices talking, coming from the living room and was pretty sure Mom felt me the moment I arrived home. I tried to keep the rustling of my shopping bags to a minimum as I stuffed them into the corner behind the table, not sure why the sounds I made caused me to flinch and wince. It was as if I was intruding in my own home or didn't want to be noticed all of a sudden.
The little girl in me wished she was anywhere but there just then.
Mom needed me, I was sure of it. She didn't reach for me or influence me with magic, but I could sense her now that my power was united, and always seemed to know what she was feeling in a peripheral sort of way. I shook off my nerves. This was my house, our coven's house. No matter who these strangers were, and I was pretty sure I knew their family name if not their individual identities, there was no way I was showing them my soft, weak underbelly.
I was a Hayle witch, damn it. Time to show it to the world.
My magic wrapped around me in a coil of mixed power, demon feeding witchcraft feeding Sidhe as I strode down the hallway and into the living room.
Mom's eyes lifted, met mine, but only for a moment. She seemed a little startled before approval lit her gaze. I let my eyes drift around the room, pulling off my best calm and slightly arrogant expression, hoping it was working.
Because from the look of our visitors, it would take a lot to impress them.
There were a handful of strangers mixed with family, and I took their measure while adjusting to the weight of tension hanging over everything. Whatever this was, it was no social call. It was almost hard to breathe the air was so thick with unspoken suspense. Ever the coven leader, Mom didn't show it a bit, only nodding to me with a small smile of welcome.
"My daughter, Sydlynn," she said. "Sweetheart, I'd like you to meet the representatives of the Dumont coven."
Bingo. I was right. The two witches and their odd bodyguard at Johnny's were Dumonts as well.
"Ah, Sydlynn." My gaze riveted on the old woman who sat in the center of the sofa, her words tinted with that same soft French accent. "What a distinct pleasure, my dear. We've heard so very much about you, I've been looking forward to it."
Her blue eyes were brilliantly clear and reminded me of someone. But who?
"Ms. Dumont," I said.
I could feel Mom's approval at my tone and attitude. Not rude, nope. Just... proud. I shook on the inside while my demon purred her delight. Even Shaylee seemed to approve.
The old woman's smile slipped just a little, eyes tightening around the edges. She was smoothed faced for one so old, her age written in every other part of her. I wondered if she used magic to keep herself looking young. Because there was nothing youthful about neither her power nor the sense of her spirit. It crackled around the edges, not worn smooth like Gram's. And despite her attempt to seem kind and interested, a thread of pure venom ran through her. Even if Mom and Gram hadn't warned me, I'd never have trusted this woman for a moment.
It made me wonder what was wrong with Quaid that he didn't sense it. Speak of the devil, he stood to the right, next to a girl about our age. My eyes skimmed him, refused to settle on her, instead finding a pair of ice green eyes watching me with cold, flat precision. The owner of those eyes also stood, directly behind a tall, broad blond man. Another bodyguard, I assumed, and this one with the same odd feel as the woman with the brothers.
"My son," Odette said, gesturing beside her at the blond. "Andre."
Handsome, with the same European aristocratic features as Jean Marc and Kristophe. But he too had a ruthless feeling about him, like a predator searching for his next meal. I'd always thought Dominic Moromond felt greasy, but this guy won that competition hands down.
"Charming," he said with a smile. At least he didn't call me mon cher. I'd have hurt him, I swear it.
I wanted to wash my eyeballs. Gross.
Just to escape his gaze, I lifted mine to the man behind him again. He shifted ever so slightly, tall, compact body at ease. And yet, he had a deadliness about him, from his shaved head to the tiny goatee darkening his chin.
"Our head of security, Raoul Moreau." Andre's smile didn't change.
"You need security?" That escaped me before I could stop myself. The dryness in my voice made me worry until Mom's mind wrapped around me and hugged me with glee.
Finally I was doing something right. Wicked.
"You know our darling Quaid, of course." Odette watched me closely. Why? Was she hoping for a reaction? I tightened my shields even further, grateful for all the years I'd perfected at least that technique and simply nodded to him.
Quaid wouldn't meet my eyes. The coward.
"And this is Ameline Benoit," Odette said, meaning I was finally forced to look at the girl who stood so very close to Quaid. My heart begged me to walk out of the room, telling me this introduction would only end badly. But I stood my ground and kept my poise while Odette finished her introduction. "Quaid's hand fasted."
It hurt less than I expected, because I was expecting it and because I was studying her when the old witch spoke. Pale porcelain perfection? Check. Flawless black hair with a charming fringe? Check. Elegant name? Double check.
I hated her immediately. And in that moment as I stood there, her blue eyes that matched Odette's studying me with equal calm and detachment as I hoped I portrayed, I was grateful to Alison for the morning primp session. At least I looked okay.
Enough with the pleasantries. I felt my outrage at the entire situation rise, noticed then Mom wasn't alone. I opened to the rest of the room. Dad stood close by with Erica and Celeste seated in the last two chairs. I opened my focus, drew my family to me and decided I'd had enough of the fake pleasantries.
Time to put the screws to my new enemies.
"I believe I've met a couple of your coven members," I said, linking with Mom to make sure I had her approval. I've never felt that much pride from her before. It would have blown everything if I'd let the grin I knew was coming escape so I suppressed it. "Jean Marc and Kristophe?"
Odette nodded while Andre spoke up. "Ah, yes. My sons. They are charmed by your little town and wanted to explore."
"They were doing more than explore." I put all of my irritation into my tone. "They were leaning on mortals."
No one said anything for a moment as the blanket of tension in the room wrapped tighter around us. When Andre laughed, I felt my anger rise.
"Boys will be boys, won't they?" He studied me, eyes frigid while his mouth remained twisted in humor. "I can't imagine they were harming anyone."
"Not the point." I wanted to scream at him, amazed my voice stayed level and in total control. Mom had taught me a few things, it seemed. A sense of absolute protectiveness for Wilding Springs and its inhabitants seized me suddenly. "It's against coven law to coerce normals with magic."
"Normals," Andre snorted. I hated being prodded, but this was clearly some kind of test. "They should be grateful we let them live their sorry little lives. Even more so when we bless them with our attention. I'm sure the boys were simply having a little fun and meant nothing by it."
It was clear to me he was jerking my chain, looking for something to accuse me of so he would have reason to call me out. As tempting as it was, Mom's gentle warning, sent through our connection, told me to back off a bit.
Not that it was in her plan to let it go, mind you.
"My daughter is correct," she said, and I understood. Time for the coven leader to crack the whip. I grinned on the inside. I loved seeing my mom slice the legs out from under those who deserved it. "You are in my territory and no matter your usual rules, I expect your family to obey our coven laws for the duration of your stay."
Andre looked like he was about to argue. I saw the spark in his eyes, his growing anger, but Odette laid a subtle hand on his knee, smiling with apology, the expression twisting her lips until they appeared clownish.
"Of course," she said. "Forgive them, Miriam. They are only boys. But I will speak to them the moment I see them. It will not happen again."
Andre settled, a sullen frown just reaching his mouth. So sonny boy had a hard time controlling his temper? Good to know.
Someone shifted to my left and I let my eyes land on Quaid. He was scowling at me, finally meeting my gaze, dark eyes angry.
Screw him. He could be as pissed as he wanted. He'd left me for her-them. That meant he sided with them and was no longer worthy of my attention.
The doorbell rang. I didn't move as Dad got up, eyes meeting mine on the way by. He looked worried, hand settling on my shoulder as he passed. The room was totally quiet when he was gone, as though his departure signaled a pause in existence.
Someone brushed past me on the way through, but I ignored Jean Marc. Kristophe hit me a little harder with a muttered, "Excuse."
Like he was really sorry. Jerk.
I watched them go to their father, the dark brother draping himself over the arm of the sofa, lounging there with a grin on his face while the blond slid in between Andre and Odette, putting his feet up on the coffee table.
I was about to lose my cool as I hadn't done with the older Dumonts. An intense hatred flooded me, something I'd never felt before, so powerful my demon started offering me a variety of ways to kill them both without leaving a scrap of them behind.
Before it could go too far, Quaid stepped forward, hand gripping my arm.
"We'll fetch some refreshments," he said before pulling me along behind him.
Jean Marc smirked and winked while Kristophe offered a little wave to me on my way out.
They were so dead.
Dead.
***
