And this time, I allowed him to guide me away from the conservatory towards our room, certain that he was soothing a half crazed animal in place of Corinne Rand.
When each of us woke up, we all marched towards the Conservatory dutifully to inspect the candle. I wasn't the first Witch in the conservatory, Brenna beat me there with her ever-pressing need to know everything when it came to Magick, despite it being my spell.
"It's burnt down completely." Brenna gestured towards the dark obscure hub that was once the candle as soon as I stepped into the room. The morning sun flooded the room entirely, somehow making the melted candle seem even more grotesque in the light of day.
Maxine was the second Witch already in the conservatory, with the smell of whiskey and cigarettes rolling off her pores. Her lipstick was smudged, and she had the air of a woman that went on the prowl and got exactly what she had been looking for.
"Your spell worked." Maxine's voice was throaty and low, and I wondered how much smoke had filled her lungs from whichever shady bar she had seated herself at.
"We'll only know for certain once we get confirmation from Stacey that Lauren is alive." Brenna's voice was sharp and shrill, deftly reminding us of the very purpose of the spell.
"I'll call her once everyone is awake." I turned away from them - away from the room - away from the candle, and marched towards the kitchen.
I pulled the coffee pot out, following the same motions I had seen Marie execute each morning since she had arrived, but the Magick wasn't there - not in the way that Marie managed.
Her presence was a soothing balm akin to what I imagined a home would feel like. She was warmth and contentment combined in that French way of hers, making you feel as if anything was possible, and when her hands wrapped around my shoulders and she hugged me from behind, I sagged. It was a combination of relief and acceptance that washed through me, brought about by her touch alone.
"No one is blaming you." Her soft French accent crept across my skin, leaving a flush in its wake. "We all knew what needed to be done, and you did it. No one in that room expected otherwise."
"Didn't they?" My sea-coloured gaze clashed with her ice-blue ones as I pivoted to look at her. I allowed the question to hang between us, knowing full well that Zoey and Jesse had not walked into that room last night with the same expectations.
"You did what needed to be done - you saved an unborn child, and that is worth more than that awful man's life - is it not?"
"I played the role of a god." I hissed the words through clenched teeth, my jaw ached from how I had ground them against each other throughout the night as if the corrosion of my dental technique may offer the answers I so desperately sought.
Marie tsked softly at me. "But that's what we do mi cheri, as Witches we are gods. Every spell, every card reading, every movement of ours has the ability to change things around us - to bend it to our very will. What is more godlike than that?"
"I don't want to be determining who lives and dies - I don't want to be stabbing people in the heart to save an unborn child because I cursed someone in an utter rage."
"Ah." Marie leant across me and began preparing the coffee I had just started, my hands somehow stalling with each word I spoke - each confession I unburdened myself with. "But that is only because you don't like the outcome of this spell, not the countless others you have cast."
I hated Marie's ability to simplify my emotions, but at the same time, she also seemed to have a knack of highlighting exactly how I was feeling and how insignificant those feelings truly were.
Brenna walked into the kitchen next, and without missing a beat, she began setting the table, as if eating breakfast as a unit was the most practical thing one could do. As always, her foundation was perfectly applied, her appearance polished, and I marvelled at her ability to pull herself together even in the wake of a curse.
Dimitri had rolled out of bed just as dawn broke, leaving me with a string of kisses before he left me to take care of some business. It was an oddly domestic experience, despite him being the leader of the Bratva.
Jesse was the next Witch to enter the kitchen, carrying a bright yellow notebook and a bright pink pencil that seemed to bend in impossible directions without a feather on the end.
"Good morning, everyone." Her voice was cheerful, and even though she didn't seem to waver in her happiness, I knew that last night would stay with her for a long time.
"Look, Jesse, about last night - "
"No apologies." She cut me off pointedly, "You saved a baby, and I think that's what we need to be focusing on." Her smile was strained as she spoke, even if her words were genuine.
"Thanks." I swallowed past the lump in my throat as she sat down at the table and began opening a large file before her. Only it wasn't a file, but a calligraphy set, and I stood in awe as she began creating different versions of mine and Dimitri's names next to one another. Once she had five different variations of our names together, she held up the sheet of paper for me to inspect.
"Which one?"
I blinked at her, suddenly aware that while I stood mesmerised by her calligraphy, everyone else seemed to have slipped into the room - probably staggered in separately, but they were all there nonetheless.
None of them went home. The thought was sobering because I hadn't fully realized how worried I was that one of them would leave.
"Where will we be using these scripts?" I pitched my voice in a careful, even tone, refusing to allow my gratitude to overwhelm me.
Jesse tilted her head up at me as if she were evaluating whether I was making fun of her or not, and after a few moments, she must have found what she was looking for because she gave a small, near-missable nod.
"For your invitations, of course."