Under a Blood Moon (Beaux Rêve Coven 2)
Chapter One
Miren Lynch dropped her foot into the murky bayou water, deep enough that the leather cord she wore around her ankle, decorated with alligator and snakes’ teeth, dipped below the surface. Then she circled her fingers above the water.
“Water demons, lurkers from the deep,
Keep venom and teeth on your banks.
Have no fear we will disturb.
For your mercy, we’ll give the Goddess thanks,
In your name.
As I will it, so mote it be.”
She ended the spell with a splash of her foot, smiling as her sisters leaned back on their arms and churned the water with their feet like children.
“You know Ethan would have a cow if he knew what we were doing,” Miren said, glancing sideways at Bryn.
Bryn wrinkled her nose but otherwise showed no concern. She wasn’t afraid of her husband. He might be a big bad troll, but with Bryn, who was now four months pregnant with a lovely baby bump, Ethan was doting. She shrugged and winked a silvery-gray eye. “What’s he gonna do? Spank me?”
The rest of the sister witches giggled at the thought. When Ethan was around, Bryn rarely even walked. He’d made it a habit of scooping her up into his arms to deposit her in a chair or a bed, whichever best served his immediate purpose.
But the women’s enforced seclusion at Beaux Rêve Inn, however well-intended, was beginning to wear. Although it was October and the mornings were becoming nippy, the afternoons were still quite sultry in their little bayou town. Today, they’d snuck away from Bryn’s bed and breakfast and Ethan’s overdeveloped protective streak to enjoy the last of the warm weather. They sat on a concrete barge tethered to the end of the boat dock, bare feet dangling in the bayou.
Miren suppressed a twinge of jealousy at her sister’s good fortune—a devoted husband, a baby on the way. And she wasn’t alone in her envy. All the witches were growing restless. Surrounded by the most handsome specimens of otherworld masculinity, they had their choice of mates. But none of them had committed. The problem, they all agreed, was that there were too many juicy choices. And there was the lingering fear, one not misplaced, that once the women made their choices and were claimed, everything they’d worked so hard to build would be gone. Demons would be demons, no matter how playful or polite. In the natural order of things, demons ruled their witch mates and syphoned off power for their own gain.
Thus far, Ethan had proved himself a man of his word. But he was a troll, and likely grateful Bryn had overlooked his low status to marry him. Already the most physically powerful among demon kind, he had less need of Bryn’s gifts.
Darcy tossed her red mane of thick curly hair and cast a sideways glance around the small coven. “It’s silly the way they keep us penned up. We won the battle. The council has backed away. Hell, they banished us, giving us our freedom from their rule. Don’t you think it’s time for us all to move back to our own homes?”
“Ethan’s still worried that so many unclaimed witches will draw the wrong element here. Or that your many beaus will fight.” Bryn kicked her feet in the water, the corners of her mouth pulling downward. “Besides, I’ve enjoyed having everyone under foot.”
“That’s because you’re in nesting mode,” Darcy said, rolling her eyes. “It’s understandable, and it has been nice to share this time with you. But we all have businesses to run. I think it’s time. Besides, you’ll never be able to rent out your rooms while we’re occupying them.”
“Ethan and his men pitch in with expenses. They’ve more than covered the rent and the groceries.”