Ascended (War of the Covens 3)

Caia’s pulse raced and she clasped a hand over the throb in her wrist. That didn’t do much for the visible throb in her neck. “Tell me what?”

The faerie’s answer was to vanish.

Reuben hadn’t even moved. He just stood there like he’d been expecting it. Caia clenched her jaw. “What’s going on?”

He didn’t say a word, just stared at her, waiting. Then Caia felt the telltale buzz of energy and Saffron was back in the room, smiling. A second later, another slight figure appeared beside her.

Caia’s jaw dropped as she took in the familiar mass of fire-red hair and fey features.

“Marion?” she gasped and got to her feet on trembling legs, tears filling her widened eyes. Was it really her? Was she really here … alive?

The witch’s own familiar violet eyes watered up, and then she rushed at Caia, her strong arms encircling her in a tight hug. Caia held on for dear life, breathing in the familiar scent of her friend and mentor, clutching her as if afraid she would disappear at any minute.

“It’s really me, sweetheart, it’s really me.” Marion stroked her hair, murmuring reassurances. The overwhelming relief took over, and Caia’s body shook with hard sobs. Marion merely held on tighter.

“How are you alive?” she asked sometime later.

Marion smiled smugly, a familiar expression that served to lighten the weight on Caia’s chest. “I was never really dead.”

Drawing Caia back down onto the sofa, the four of them sat as Caia was told the tale of their deception.

“You see,” Saffron said, “I’d already contacted Reuben, telling him Marion was very ill from having traveled with too many children. That’s when he came up with his plan to deceive Marita. He masked Marion’s trace, making Marita think her sister was dead. If she thinks Marion is out of the picture, she won’t hesitate to go to the places that Marion knew about.”

Clever, Caia thought. Pity that along with it, they’d caused her, Magnus, and Vanne untold heartbreak.

Marion must’ve seen the anger in Caia’s eyes because she patted her hand. “I know it was ruthless and deceitful, but we couldn’t risk anyone finding out I’m alive. This is the best weapon we have against her.”

Caia gazed at her in admiration, taking solace in Marion’s seemingly unending strength and determination. “I am sorry about Marita, Marion.”

She frowned and looked away. “I am sorry that I was a fool not to have seen it sooner.”

“Apologies aside,” Reuben muttered, eyeing the witch carefully, “Marion claims to know where Marita is.”

A mixture of excitement and apprehension rushed through Caia at the thought, and she gripped Marion’s hands harder than she meant to. “Really? Where?”

“In a small village in Scotland. She has a safe house there, a derelict inn. Only myself, Marita, and my mother knew of it. Not even Vanne knows of its existence.”

Caia’s heart was going overtime. “So we’re going there? We’re going after Marita?”

Reuben nodded grimly. “That’s the plan.”

“But what about Vanne and the Council? I have to tell them I’m going after Marita. The oath.” She held up her hand, palm out, so they could see the annulet.

Marion frowned at it. “I can’t believe they made you take a blood oath.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I mind.” She scowled. “It was unnecessary. Bloody idiots running this place like …” Her voice trailed off as Reuben spoke again.

“Caia, I must remind you that no one can know about Marion’s existence. Marita will be checking the trace for anything and everything, and we can’t tell them about this safe house because she’ll find out we know and leave.”

Of course, dumbass, Caia silently berated. She took a minute, tracing the texture of the carpet with her foot. “OK. How about I just tell them I have a lead that I can’t discuss because I don’t want Marita to uncover it in the trace, and that I’ll only be taking you and Saffron with me as backup, to ensure Marita doesn’t find out.”

“I don’t see how they can argue with that,” Marion agreed.

Finally, Reuben nodded. “It’s our only chance. I think—”

Caia felt an unexpected prickle of energy, as did Reuben who stopped talking. Caia’s eyes widened as Vil appeared behind the vampyre. Reuben was out of his chair in a blur, and when he stilled, it was with Vil clutched by the throat, Vil’s pale eyes wide with fear and shock.

“Reuben!” Caia hissed, launching herself at him, tugging poor Vil out of his stone-hard arms. “Let. Him. Go.”

He growled at her but finally let up, and Vil stumbled toward Caia, happily letting her place herself between him and the vampyre.

“It’s just Vil,” she snapped. Reuben grunted, shouldering past her to take his seat again. Vil hastily jumped out of his path. “What’s going on?” she demanded. But Vil was staring at Marion like he’d seen a ghost … which technically, he had.