Destined (War of the Covens 2)

Marita was very like her sister. She was as small and fragile looking as Marion, as elegant, her hair as fiery red. But where there was gentle warmth in Marion’s features, Marita seemed sculpted in ice. Her eyes were tight and sharp, her jaw tense, her hands clasped rigidly in front of her. Vanne, on the other hand, was almost as tall as Lucien, except leaner and wiry. Seeming far more relaxed than his wife, Vanne stood, smiling widely at Caia. He didn’t leer at her, she was sure of that—but he did seem to find her extraordinarily fascinating, as if he was waiting for her to do something unexpected.

“I’m glad we have this opportunity to meet,” Marita said, walking gracefully toward them. She took Caia’s hand in her own and shook it quickly and soberly. “Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you,” Caia managed. With a subtle nod from Lucien, she followed Marita and Vanne farther into the room. She and Lucien sat on a Louis XIV sofa facing the Head of the Coven who perched primly across from them in a matching chair. Vanne lazed back in a leather La-Z-Boy that was so out of place and stared, entirely relaxed, at the fire blazing brightly in the massive, ornate fireplace to their right.

Caia knew she must look like the biggest dolt, her eyes wide as she took in the rich surroundings. Her gaze fell on Marion, who took a seat away from the small gathering at the fireplace. She smiled at Caia in reassurance.

“Well,” Marita began, her ocean-blue gaze fixed like granite on Caia, “Marion has filled me in on your reports about the Midnights. However, I would like you to reiterate for me this Pierre du Bois’s plans for the MacLachlans.”

Caia nodded, feeling the butterflies dissipate a little now that she had some control in the situation. “In three weeks’ time, Sunday the fourth to be exact, Pierre and a few of his agents intend to ambush the MacLachlans during one of their pack runs. He was investigating best possible attack strategies, and then he learned that, like us, the MacLachlans have organized pack runs every month. They drive out to Remnant Forest, the woodlands that border the city to the east. According to Pierre’s agents, the MacLachlans have employed a magik to mask their activities on public property?” she queried, having never realized such business went on.

Vanne grinned at her. “Some of us are extremely enterprising. We like to think on the whole that the Daylights are a tight group. We work well with each other regardless of race. And yes … we are aware that one of our magiks is employed by the MacLachlans. Seems only fair, considering the MacLachlans have been providing the coven with excellent Rogue Hunters for many generations. One of the finest currently, in fact, Phoebe MacLachlan.”

“A female hunter?” It was Caia’s turn to grin excitedly.

He chuckled. “There are a few. We’re not as backward as you may think, Caia.”

“Having lived among humans for so long without any supernatural influence other than one measly lykan”—Marita smirked and Caia bristled at the condescension she sensed in her tone—“it’s only natural that you would think human females have more rights than supernatural females—”

“Lykans in particular,” Vanne teased, grinning at Lucien. Caia felt him tense beside her.

“Hmm, well, no matter the race, we are aware your opinions may be unduly influenced by your upbringing, but I assure you, the Daylight Coven has much to offer. Why, I’m a woman. One could surely say I’m one of the most powerful supernaturals today. A very bright future awaits you here.”

Okay, so how did her detailing the MacLachlans’ plans suddenly detour into a sales pitch? She wanted to laugh. They had jumped on her surprise and delight at there being a female Rogue Hunter because they thought she was being oppressed by Lucien? And suddenly their sales pitch turned into some feminist bull?

She managed to keep the smirk off her face as she leaned closer to Lucien to reassure him.

“As I was saying,” she managed diplomatically, “Pierre will ambush the pack in Remnant Forest with ten magiks, guard the place with four, and he’ll have five spies watching the MacLachlans. Together they live on five streets in town. So we’re looking at nineteen magiks.”

Marita frowned. “That’s an impressive arsenal.”

“I’d say overkill.” Caia nodded.

“It also means Pierre has the beginnings of quite a rebellion,” Lucien added, his voice husky from concealed anger.

Marita nodded in agreement and then snapped her fingers so abruptly, Caia flinched. A magik appeared almost instantly beside the Head, a tall, hulking figure of a man whose face held no expression.

“Noble, I assume Ms. Ribeiro’s and Mr. Líder’s rooms are in order?”

“Yes, madam.”

She turned back to them. “Noble will show you to your rooms. Get some sleep. Tomorrow, after Mordecai and Marion have shown Caia around the Center’s facilities, I want the two of you to reconvene here at five o’clock to discuss our plan of action. Lucien, I thought you might be interested in our Second Unit.”