Cuckoo in the Coven

Celeste felt uncomfortable. She and Fox had sat at that table many times, shared meals, discussed magic and eternity, making plans to unite forces.

“You never give up, do you, Fox?” she muttered under her breath.

Frantically, she craned her neck and tried to see what Sunny was doing. Making magic, by the looks of her. Surely she couldn’t mean to go over to his side? Not after everything they told her and taught her.

She glanced back over her shoulder and saw Cullen, who was peering out the door of the van, which he appeared to have booted open despite his restraints, glaring at the building as if he could take it apart stone by stone with his bare hands. He loved Sunny every bit as much as she loved him. And Sunny wasn’t going over to Fox. She had a plan. She loved Cullen too much to give up on what they had.

Celeste looked back indoors.

“I can’t believe it.” She stared into the scene and the dining room beyond. Two black panther

s roamed freely around the dining room, but it wasn’t them that’d caught her attention. “It’s Imelda!”

Willow came quickly to her side. Craning her neck, she tried to see beyond the foliage masking the window. “Imelda?”

“It’s her, it’s really her.”

Imelda was a local, and a close friend of Hanna, Sunny’s grandmother. Imelda had disappeared years ago. She often visited family in Dorset, and when she didn’t return one time, word was sent she’d settled with her cousins. Clearly, it was a lie.

Willow looked over Celeste’s shoulder, taking in the scene. “But we thought...we thought she’d gone to Dorset.”

Celeste’s fury built. “Fox had her up here all this time.”

“Why didn’t we know?” Willow looked aghast.

Celeste felt it too. They thought they knew when he was around and what he was up to. They’d been wrong. Who else had he sucked into his world, never to return?

“Why Imelda?”

“I have no idea.” Celeste shrugged. “No wait, I do recall he mentioned her once. Said she made a good tiramisu.”

“Seriously? He’s kept her caged up in his fortress because she makes a good tiramisu?”

Celeste frowned. “There must be more to it. Why would he want to keep Imelda close?”

“It must be serious, the reason why.”

“We really need to get them out. Alive,” Celeste added. “Both of them.” She paused. “Sunny will surely sense Imelda’s a friendly local, trapped there.”

Willow shook her head. “Yes, but I still can’t help wishing Sunny hadn’t gone in there.”

“She had to though, didn’t she?” Celeste could see it now. “If his guard ever goes down, it’s here, in his family homestead. She wants to make her move on his turf.”

“Dangerous.” Willow gave her a chastising look.

Eben approached them. “I had a talk with Cullen, had to. He was kicking the shit out of my camper van. Says he knows Sunny has to deal with it, but he can’t just sit around waiting.”

Celeste and Willow looked at each other.

“I suppose we need all the help we can get,” Willow offered.

“He didn’t bring that bloody sword of his, did he?” Celeste asked, remembering the display he’d put on for Sunny’s family.

“No.”

“In that case, watch him, but let him free.”

Eben nodded and headed off.