Immortals After Dark 04 - Wicked Deeds on a Winters Night

devastating. But life with her had been wonderful .
    She remembered her mother blindfolded and smiling on the beach, arms out, as she’d tried to catch Mari, who’d been squealing with laughter. “ Where’s my little witch?” she’d cooed, with her red hair shining like fire in the sun. When Mari had let Jillian catch her, she’d swung her up, and then they’d collapsed laughing onto the sand.
    Elianna had explained that her parents were—or had been—Important People, and that they had—or had had—Important Things to Do...
    Acton, Mari’s first love, had ditched her as well. For years, the young demon had been her boyfriend. He’d courted her when they’d been fourteen, taken her at sixteen, and then she’d taken him at every opportunity for the next three years.
    She’d been happy with him until he’d thrown her over for a tall, willowy nymph with flowing golden locks. Well, not technically thrown her over. Because storm demons didn’t have a single fated demoness, they often kept harems, and he’d still wanted a relationship with Mari as well as with the nymph. That was bad enough, but it was clear Mari would have been B team if she’d stayed in the game.
    Of course she hadn’t, but losing him had hurt so much and for so long. He was her first love and letting him go had nearly killed her.
    Seemed Mari always was B team. Was that her fate?
    She glared over at MacRieve. Ten-to-one odds said his fey princess was blond and tall.
    And the Lykae wasn’t merely choosing another woman over Mari—he preferred what he thought was another version of her.
    As if reading her mind, MacRieve said, “Been thinkin’ about the question you asked me last night.”
    “Oh, I have been, too,” she said in a deliberate tone, her anger simmering. The werewolf had no idea he was sidling round a spring trap hungry for his paw.
    “And what have you come up with, then?”
    “No, no, you first.” When he hesitated, she added, “I insist .”
    “I doona know that I’d answer it the same,” he finally said. “The more I’m around you, the more I... the better you appear—even for a witch.”
    Suave, Lykae, melt my heart.
    “Now you tell me.”
    She met his eyes. “I was thinking that if you don’t come to a different conclusion, I’ll be forced to protect myself.”
    He hesitated, clearly not presented with the answer he’d expected.
    “It’s a simple matter of self-preservation, MacRieve. If this reincarnation could possibly have taken place, then there’s no way I’ll allow you to go back and wipe me out. I’ll destroy you first.”
    “Could you do it? You could no’ kill me yesterday.”
    “You weren’t intent on erasing me yesterday.” She cast him a menacing smile, feeling very witchy. “Besides, I’d already killed my quota for the day.”

26

    “I’ve always wondered what goes on behind coven doors,” Cade said to Mari when he’d returned from recon several miles ahead.
    “I really can’t speak for all covens, but mine is pretty worthless. Lots of soap opera and internet addiction.” She was supposed to lead them to greatness, but then, Mari liked her soaps, too. “Have you pictured a slew of hoary old women cackling over a cauldron?”
    He raised his brows. “Yes.”
    “If someone busted out a cauldron, we’d chortle with laughter and make fun of them for being ‘old skool’ for months. And you rarely see hoary old women because most witches use glamours of some sort.”
    She noticed MacRieve seemed to be listening intently. Even Rydstrom and the archers appeared interested in this topic.
    “Do you really chant spells and make blood sacrifices?” Cade asked.
    “We chant spells when they’re new, but they quickly become second nature. It’s like you wouldn’t say to yourself, ‘I am walking to the kitchen, and there I will boil water for tea.’ You would just do it. But if it was the first time you’d ever walked to a kitchen or had tea, you might talk yourself through it.”
    “And the blood sacrifices?” MacRieve prompted.
    Mari gazed around at everyone. “Do you guys really want me to talk about witchery ?”
    Cade hastily said, “Yes,” just as MacRieve grated, “Aye.” MacRieve in particular seemed absorbed in everything she was explaining. Could he really feign interest like this?
    “Well, some witches still do the blood thing. But in our coven, we look at it like this—giving up whatever is prized and personal is a sacrifice. In the old days