Page 38 of Our Covenant

I hold my hands up and try to calm him with, “I was kidding, Mads. We’ll figure out what to do with her once we know exactly who she is and why she’s been stalking us.”

“What do we tell the coven?”

“Nothing,” I say a little too sharply. “The last thing we need is the council taking her into their custody. They will kill her, and we’ll never know who she’s working with.”

“You think it’s someone in the coven?”

I purse my lips and lean against the counter’s edge. The thought has been plaguing me for hours. It’s unlikely she was raised in another coven by the way she talks about our magic. But without proof of her connection to someone in ours, we have no one to accuse. And that could mean more danger waiting for us later on.

“I think we all need a good night’s sleep. She doesn’t have access to magic while she’s here and she’s warded to her room and the bathroom. As long as you use the other three in the house, you won’t have to run into her at all,” I assure him and finish putting together the traveling tray to take upstairs.

“What if . . . What if I want to be around her?” He sounds ashamed but has no reason to be. I feel it too. Whether it’s the mystery shrouding her or some cosmic pull, I want to keep her talking to hear the way her brain works.

Maddox isn’t weak. In fact, his ability is more powerful than Thorne’s depending on the situation. Having the power to connect with the earth means he could cause devastation to entire cities if he needed to. Which is why his strong feelings toward Elsbeth have been so worrisome. He’s always been a deep thinker who loves with his entire being, but when he lets the darkest parts of him take over, he has to battle his intrusive thoughts harder than the rest of us. I’ll never forgive his father for all those years he put Maddox in dangerous situations, trying to provoke his magical ability to manifest itself. And likewise his mother for pretending it wasn’t happening.

“Let’s get through tonight before we try to make friends out of foes.” I end it there, taking the tray and heading back upstairs to deliver it.

It’s silent when I get to the second floor. Walking past my room, I check that the sigil is still charged and ready to protect me through the night. It’s marked with white ash and endowed with valerian root, which will seal once I’m inside for the night and only open for one of the other guys or myself. Our wards around her room should hold, but we aren’t going to take any chances.

Moving down the hall, I can hear Thorne and Asher talking to each other. They’re still inside of Elsbeth’s room, but she’s now sitting with her legs crossed, boots off, and arm holding her chin as she watches the two would-be guards.

“Hope you’re not vegan . . . or picky,” I say as I enter.

I lower the tray but keep several feet between us, as if she were imprisoned in a Hannibal Lector style cell. I do most of the cooking since the other guys usually don’t get home until late. Tonight was Italian, but since dried-out pasta and congealed sauce would have been unappetizing for all of us, I made chicken piccata with mashed potatoes, green beans, and brown-butter roasted carrots for added color. Nothing makes me want to vomit more than a plate full of beige food.

Elsbeth looks at the meal for a long moment then up to me. “It’s still warm.”

“We aren’t monsters.”

“What would you call a group of men who abduct a woman and hold her against her will?” She levels me with a stoney look.

I glance over my shoulder at Asher and Thorne, who are watching us closely, then I turn back to her and take a few steps closer to lower the tray to her bed. “You’re awfully calm for someone being held in captivity.”

She watches my every movement, waiting for me to take a full two steps away before saying, “Did you know that women are more likely to smile at men in public because our greatest threat in life is angering a man?”

“You’re not smiling,” I point out, purposefully antagonizing her.

Her lips pull into a wide, cheesy smile.

“Cute.” Matching her stride for stride, I give her a wink and walk across the room to stand next to Asher and Thorne.

“Leave the tray outside your door when you’re finished,” Thorne says.

“How do I know it’s not poisoned?” She narrows her eyes on him, but there’s something teasing in her tone.

“It’s too soon to kill you,” he tosses over his shoulder, obviously finished with the fruitlessness of the evening.

Lying in bed, I can’t keep my mind from the woman sleeping a wall away. The branches of thoughts intertwine with worries like vines in gnarled brambles that are too hard to separate. I fear that sleep won’t bring me peace but without it, the night will drag on and on.

Thorne and Maddox have to go to Asher’s family home tomorrow. They will need to transfer some of the harvested magic to Edmund and Emilie as per mandated by coven rules. It’s the worst time to have to give up any advantage we may have, but canceling will make them suspicious. Alric is supposed to be the first to receive his allotted gifts, as he’s the oldest coven member, but after the council meeting, we’ve decided to prolong his waiting period.

While Alric is entitled to his fair share of the yield, he is the last remaining member of his line. Meaning, he keeps all of it for himself. Another worry that’s driving sleep further away from my reality.

What would Alric do if he knew that his nephew and the other legacies were keeping a woman in the legacy manor? I hate to admit that part of me believes that he would agree it’s the safest solution, which makes my skin crawl. A broken clock may be right twice a day, but a pure hand needs no glove to cover it.

I toss to my back and try to envision the waves of my noise machine washing over me to take me into their undertow. The moisture of my exhales mixes with the oxygen in the room and settles on the thin layer of sweat forming on my skin. My heart beats in time with every crash of recorded wave and slows. A heavy weight sinks my body into the mattress. My limbs give into the quicksand of the sweet relief of lucid sleep.

“Come on, baby, follow Mama.” The familiar voice arrives and I struggle to open my eyes.