Warlock 3 - Preview Chapters

I thought I'd drop this one at a time better for the euro-readers. :)

The Maiden

“Ow! Fuck!”

Waking up to an intensely sharp pain in one’s arm isn’t the most pleasant thing in the world, but it does provide for some instant clarity.

So it was very clear to me that the pain was in my forearm and the pain came from the beautiful, sexy girl who’d just bitten me there.

The beautiful, sexy, aspect of the Goddess, who was kneeling beside me with my forearm held to her face like it was a cob of corn she was contemplating taking a second bite from.

“What the fuck!” I yelled, yanking my arm out of Aveline’s grasp and examining it.

There was no blood — at least that I could see in the moonlight of the Goddess’ Grove — but I thought I was going to have bruises as bad as where Rachel bit me.

“You bit me!” I accused The Maiden.

Aveline shrugged. “My girls have been talking about it — I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” She frowned. “Oddly satisfying.”

“No,” I said firmly. “No more biting.”

What the hell, I wondered, am I going to have to tie all the girls up to protect myself? Maybe gags would work.

“All right,” Aveline said, standing and gesturing for me to stand as well. “Come along, then. I don’t have all night. Especially with as little sleep as you’ve been getting lately — it takes some effort to bring you here, you know.”

Bites me and then starts giving orders — what a brat.

Didn’t Mel say the Goddess’ aspects changed way back when? Maybe they were changing again and The Maiden was fading into The Brat.

I was totally going to suggest that idea to Viera — maybe The Crone could get some use out of it.

Aveline led me to the altar.

“You need to pick up the pace,” she told me.

“The pace?”

The Maiden waved a hand at me, impatiently. “The pace — your coven. You’re slacking.”

“Slacking? I — I’ve marked three witches in the last four months and have a date with Priscilla in a week and a half, plus Prima Rosethorn still has my oath not to bind any more witches until school’s over! How much faster am I supposed to go?”

“I don’t know, just faster!” The Maiden stepped away and started pacing. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since we saw a young coven so full of joy?” She rubbed at her arms, shivering. “It’s fantastic, and I want more!”

I had trouble believing we were that full of joy, or whatever — especially with as unhappy as Cassandra still seemed sometimes. The fear was still there for her and we still hadn’t done more than me easing things for her and draining her Lust resonant, with a little bit of balancing to the others.

“Really? What about the school coven? Aren’t they happy?”

Peter seemed pretty happy and I couldn’t imagine Prima Rosethorn running her coven the same way the Families did. Sure, the Prima seemed pretty angry all the time, but that was at school, not at home … wasn’t it?

Aveline’s brow furrowed. “The school coven? Yeah, they’re happy, but … that’s old-happy. Contentment or whatever — I’m talking about young-happy! You make my girls young-happy and I want more of it — so hurry up! Use my gift, that’s what I gave it to you for — and to show Viera she wasn’t so smart.”

“Your gift?”

All the Goddess’s aspects had given me a gift — along with a geas, which, sort of made me think the gifts weren’t so much freely-given, as Mel liked to say. They did, after all, come with strings. Aurora wanted me to tell someone there’d been a mistake — I knew now that was Mel and wished I was as confident as The Child that I’d come up with the right time to talk to Mel about it. Idalia, The Mother, had given me the power to influence whether the girls got pregnant — something pretty important to witches, but neither Sam nor Rachel were ready yet. While Viera, The Crone, had given me Strength against Wiles — something I could now recognize, at least here, since I couldn’t remember these visits with the Goddess’ aspects once they were over, as what might be “ratting them out” as Sam said.

Aveline had said something about “doubling-down” or something, but I still didn’t know what that gift was.

“How am I supposed to use it when I don’t even know what it is?!”

Aveline moved closer to me and placed a palm on my chest.

“You want to know what my gift to you was?”

I swallowed hard and nodded, afraid to speak, because the scent of flowers filled my senses, seeming to creep and writhe its way into my brain, shutting parts of it off and ramping up the power of others.

I felt myself stir and harden as Aveline leaned ever closer, staring up into my eyes. I hadn’t noticed before, but she was the perfect height to hold close, as the top of her head came to just below my chin. The urge to do just that rose, wrap my arms around her and pull her in to feel the press of her body against mine, and I think the only thing that stopped me was that I couldn’t move.

I was frozen in place, barely breathing, half afraid any movement would break the spell, and half wishing it would, because the longing was unbearable.

“I gave you a bit of my power,” Aveline whispered, and I could no longer stare into her beautiful eyes, because she’d moved even closer and tilted her head up to lay her lips, feather-light, against the skin of my neck. “Or, rather, I gave you access to your own.

“Viera gave you strength against wiles?” Aveline chuckled. “I gave you wiles. Seduction. What to do, what to say, how to drive your prey to distraction with a word, a whisper, a breath.” Her lips grazed my earlobe and I groaned. “With a touch.” Warm breath swirled in my ear and my knees went weak. “With the barest whisper.”

“That … doesn’t seem fair,” I managed to croak out as I struggled to even think.

“Silly boy.” Aveline’s breath seemed to flow over me, traveling farther than it should — wrapping around my head, down my chest, and swirling over the rigid hardness in my pants.

I half expected my dick to pipe up with some annoying and inappropriate comment.

Shut up, my dick told me. I’m busy.

“Silly, silly boy.” Aveline’s tongue was running across my earlobe now, then she was tugging it with her teeth, and her next breath swirled around my ear before seeming to drive directly for my brain.

Aveline went on, punctuating every few words with a lick of tongue, a nip of teeth, a fleeting tickle of lips.

“Our gifts are not the thing itself, but the opening of what you already have. Aurora didn’t give you love — she showed it to you and opened you to it. To accepting it and returning it to others. Viera’s strength against wiles?” The Maiden chuckled. “You know when my girls are playing with you — the old biddy just … made you listen to the part that knows more than you might. Even Idalia’s gift, that’s in every warlock, at least those close enough to us — those who haven’t drifted too far, which, honestly, is very few these days. And the intention must be pure, of course — acceptable to us — so Samantha and Cassandra are going to be very disappointed in your earning potential.”

I’d have laughed if I’d been able to do anything but wait for The Maiden’s next touch.

“I didn’t give you anything you didn’t already have, really. The words … the actions … the power … it’s nothing that isn’t inside you already, Noah. You just get confused, like so many do. My gift simply gives you clarity. Brings that part of you to the fore.” She grinned. “It lets you think of important things in the moment — instead of in the shower three days later.”

I could very much swear that I had exactly zero clarity at the moment.

“Seduction is a game … the players join willingly … the only way to cheat is to lie, but you wouldn’t do that, would you?”

I managed to get out a strangled “no” that must have ranged over at least three chords.

The Maiden’s tongue traced a fiery line from behind my earlobe, down my neck, to place a gentle kiss on my throat just below my Adam’s apple.

“I know you wouldn’t.” She took a moment to nip at the flesh on my collar bone. “You’re a good boy.”

Fuck, I thought, does Sam get that same tremor in her gut when I call her a good girl?

Because, right now? Aveline could call me anything she wanted. She could ask anything of me and I’d do it. I was completely lost in the feel of her touching me and the magic of her words.

“It’s the best game in the world, Noah — do you know why?”

“N-n-no,” I admitted, wondering how one syllable could contain an entire octave.

Aveline’s lips and tongue made their way to my other ear and a hot breath blew away any brain cells I had left.

“Because when you play it fair?” she breathed. “Everybody wins.”

The Maiden pulled away from my neck and looked up to drag me into the pool of her eyes. Her lips parted and she tilted her face up, inching closer to mine. I parted my own lips in anticipation and, just before her lips touched mine, she whispered:

“Pleasant dreams.”

Chapter

“What the fuck is that?”

Not the most pleasant question to wake up to.

I opened my eyes, trying to blink the sleep away, and saw Sam kneeling next to me. Cassandra was on my other side and Rachel was next to Sam — the other two girls were blinking as well. It seemed Sam had woken all of us up with her question.

“What’s what?” I mumbled, rubbing at my eyes.

“That!” Sam said, pointing at my crotch.

Once I looked, it was pretty obvious, even in the muted glow from the banked fire, what had drawn her attention. My pajama bottoms had turned into a little teepee.

Maybe not so little — quite a big one, actually, and almost painful.

“Um, morning wood?” I offered.

Sam shook her head.

“No — no, I’ve seen your morning wood for four months now … that is different.”

“It does seem different,” Cassandra agreed. “Not really bigger or anything … just … more.”

Did my dick have its own presence now?

“More?” Rachel asked, a little tentatively.

“It looks … harder,” Sam said, reaching out — then she drew her hand back and looked at Cassandra. “You check it.”

“What were you dreaming about?” Sam asked as Cassandra sighed and pinched my dick between her thumb and forefinger a few times.

“I don’t remember any dreams and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but could you girls leave my dick alone?”

Shut up, my dick told me before trailing off as Cassandra squeezed it a few more times. Oh … oh yeeeeaaahhh…

“It does seem harder,” Cassandra said. “A lot. Maybe thicker, too.”

“Should we take him to the infirmary?” Rachel asked.

The rest of us turned to stare at her.

Rachel flushed. “I saw it on a commercial once — if it’s been like that all night it could be dangerous. It might break or something.”

Sam shook her head.

“No doctors … at least not until we’ve … exhausted other possibilities.”

*

It’s good to be the warlock.

Tiring, at times. Even exhausting.

I winced and adjusted myself as we made our way from our cottage to the residence building, entering through the cafeteria doors.

A bit of soreness once in a while … but, overall, good.

I was still hard — which was kind of astounding after the activities that had made me over an hour late for my typical workout time. Honestly, after those, I’d be perfectly happy to skip my workout this morning, but I’d worked hard to establish the habit and didn’t want to disrupt it.

*

“You girls really don’t have to come with,” I protested, holding the back door to the residence building open for my three witches to enter.

It was the Tuesday after the Council meeting, and I was surprised all three girls had gotten up and thrown on workout clothes as soon as I told them the possibilities had been exhausted and I was heading for the gym.

“We do,” Cassandra said.

“I think I can manage a workout and sauna alone,” I said. “If there’s any problem, I’ll just text Sam like I did before.”

“That only works if you really can control yourself and not try to mark every witch who throws herself at you,” Cassandra said.

“Which is why we’re coming with,” Sam added. “Because … guy.”

“It hasn’t been a problem so far,” I muttered.

“You didn’t have that before,” Sam said, nodding at the pronounced bulge in my gym shorts.

We made our way through the cafeteria where a few other early-risers were eating light breakfasts before heading off to their early-morning classes. The food line was open, releasing the scent of breakfast, and my stomach growled.

“Besides, that was before everything else, too,” Cassandra said. “Now they’re going to get serious.”

“Before what?”

“Before we were a recognized Family. Now you’re the Blackwood Family Head.”

“I still think that should be Mel,” I grumbled, grabbing a banana as we passed the coolers.

Rachel shook her head, opening the yogurt cup she’d taken from the coolers. “Melaina doesn’t want it and she’s not part of a coven, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “The Family Head is the high priestess of the top coven in the hierarchy. Warlock, in our case.”

“Great,” I muttered. It was just another complication on top of many, but I wondered how many problems that was going to cause. “I thought being a recognized Family was going to make us safer.”

“It does,” Cassandra said, “but only from force or coercion.”

“Yeah,” Sam said, “so they’re less likely to lock you in a basement until they can mark you.”

“Why does it always have to be a basement?” I asked.

“Single egress point,” Rachel said. “Easier to guard.”

I blinked. If even Rachel knew enough about locking people in basements to know that, maybe there were some things about life behind the Veil that I needed to become more aware of.

“What we aren’t safe from is sneaky little witches getting you all worked up until you can’t think straight,” Sam explained. “There’s no recourse to the Council if you fuck up and get marked like that — the other Families won’t care, since it’s not a threat to them.”

Cassandra snorted. “Like there’s a chance of one of them marking Noah — he marked me, and there’s no one at school who’s more powerful than me.” Sam and I looked at Rachel, then at each other, and Cassandra snarled, “Fine, no one but you guys — I meant the non-freakish girls.”

“Then it’s not a problem,” I argued.

It wasn’t that I minded them coming with me — I couldn’t think of a single place I didn’t want my whole coven with me — but the implication they needed to be around to keep me from sticking my dick in random witches was a little insulting.

“It is,” Cassandra said, “because even if they can’t mark you, we don’t want you marking them either.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “The list is already so long I think we’re going to have to carry half the try outs over until next summer.”

“Try outs?” Cassandra asked.

Sam glanced at me quickly, then away. “Interviews, evaluations, meetings — talking, getting to know each other, that sort of thing.”

“Samantha,” I said.

“Yes, Dominus?” She’d suddenly become very quiet.

“Any ‘try-outs’ without my approval and it’ll be a year before I let you come again.”

Sam’s eyes went wide and she gulped. “Yes, Dominus, I’ll be good.”

“Good girl.”

“Freaks,” Cassandra muttered.

Sam stuck her tongue out at her and we resumed walking.

*

I began to wonder if maybe the girls had the right idea in coming with me, because the next half-hour or so showed I had a disturbing lack of willpower when it came to concentrating on my workout.

We were the only ones there, but my three witches seemed to fill every place I could possibly look with skintight sports bras and leggings — I was pretty grateful that my own outfit of gym shorts and a t-shirt was baggy enough not to show my bulge, because I wasn’t sure I could contain myself if one of them saw it and gave an invitation to do something more about my condition.

Cassandra was on the treadmill next to mine and her breasts quickly showed they could not be restrained by spandex — even a side-glance at those bouncing orbs made me think of stripping her top off and burying my face in them.

Sam was on a yoga mat in front of me, twisting and tying herself into some positions I wasn’t sure had anything at all to do with yoga … and muttering something about “fuck a bunch of contortionists”, which seemed odd.

Rachel was on my other side, using the sort of thigh-machine I knew had to be designed by a guy for exactly this situation.

And behind me?

A mirrored wall where the only difference was I could watch Cassandra’s butt instead of her boobs.

I did consider running backwards for a while — Cassandra had an incredible butt.

*

“And that’s why we came along,” Cassandra said, staring at the sauna door.

I’d finished my workout and dropped my clothes in a locker before heading for the sauna — with the girls following me immediately. Now we were clustered around the door, with Cassandra blocking the way.

“Yep,” Sam said, nodding.

“What?” I asked.

“Look at the door,” Cassandra said, waving a hand.

“It’s … the sauna door?”

It looked pretty much the way it always had — wood, big window at the top, but you couldn’t see in, since the sauna lighting was dim and the gym lighting was bright.

Sam sighed. “A witch just told you to look at something.”

“Oh.” I flipped the mental switch that let me see mana — it was very distracting to keep on all the time, because I could see through my coven’s shields with it. While other witches were just the glowing blue-white of their shields in this view, mine were mini fireworks displays, filled with the glowing threads of every emotion or sensation they were feeling.

It was honestly hard to concentrate on anything else, but I did note multiple glowing lines of mana stretched across the sauna door.

“What are those?”

“Wards,” Cassandra said.

“Is someone trying to keep us out of the sauna?”

“Wards aren’t just for keeping something out, they can also act as just alarms.”

“This one’s Liza’s work,” Cassandra said, leaning closer to peer at the door frame. “Her attachment points always suck and…” An even closer look. “Yep, right here, you can see where she had to scratch a rune into the wood to make it work. Lazy witch.”

“Um, alarms?” I asked.

“Yep,” Sam said. “So … six witches want to know when you enter the sauna. Three guesses why they’d want to know that?”

I groaned. “I just want to relax before breakfast — is that so much to ask?”

Sam gave the towel I had wrapped around me a pointed look — fair, since things were pointing right back at her. “This morning? Probably.”

“I still think we should take him to the nurse,” Rachel said. “We only found it when Sam woke up, so who knows how long it’s been like that?”

“I’ll work on it again after breakfast,” Sam said. “But I’m definitely not leaving him alone here with that. He’s not going to be able to control himself.”

“I think I could,” I muttered.

Honestly, more sex was the last thing on my mind, erection or not. Between Sam the night before, and Rachel and Sam taking turns this morning, half of me wanted to blow off class, crawl back to the cottage, and sleep all day — and that was the half of me that usually wanted to blow off class, crawl back to the cottage, and have sex with my witches all day, so it was pretty serious.

Cassandra opened the door and waved at me to enter. “We’re staying,” she said.

I felt nothing unusual as I entered the sauna, but each of the six ward-lines flashed and disappeared.

I sighed as the girls took positions more appropriate to combat than a sauna — Cassandra and Rachel moved to opposite sides, flanking the door, and Sam came with me to the back tier of benches, taking a seat a couple rows higher than the one I typically used. Rachel moved closer to the door and peeked out.

“Someone’s coming,” Rachel whispered, ducking back from the window to put her back to the sauna’s wall.

“Who?” Cassandra asked.

“I don’t know. I ducked back before I could see.”

“Then what was the point of peeking through the window?”

“I saw someone was coming, didn’t I?”

A moment later, the sauna door opened and Sara Morgan-Gould stepped in. Her eyes darted from me to Sam and I watched as her jaw set and her shoulders squared — as well as her hands going to the towel she had wrapped around her torso. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam lean forward, eagerly.

“Out,” Rachel ordered, stepping from behind the door and planting herself between the girl and me, hands on her towel-clad hips.

“What?”

“You’re not gonna get him — get out,” Cassandra said from the girl’s other side, making her head toggle back and forth.

“But —”

Sam sighed, eagerness disappearing as she accepted Sara would be gone before removing that towel. “Tell your mom to call me and maybe you can get on the list for interviews this summer,” Sam said. “You’ll be, like, number fifty-two, so don’t get your hopes up — there are two Swedes, a gorgeous Bulgarian, and a Quebecois who was a contortionist with Cirque, at the top.”

Sara’s mouth fell open and she stared at the three girls for a moment, then her face seemed to struggle between frustration and relief.

“Fine,” she said, stalking to the door.

“And tell the others,” Cassandra called after her. “Noah’s off limits. I may have been nice since I got bound, but anyone tries and he’ll let me off-leash to take care of them.”

Sara huffed, but left the sauna.

As soon as the door closed, Cassandra whirled around and pointed at me.

“Shut up,” she said. “You’re not putting a leash on me.”

I held up my hands, laughing. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

Sam came down the benches and sat next to me, while Rachel sat on the bench nearest the door and Cassandra laid down on a bench on the opposite side from her.

“A contortionist?” I asked Sam, because … priorities.

Sam shook her head and sighed. “So that gets you interested in the list? Figures.”

I shrugged. “Fifty-two?”

“I’ll have it narrowed down before Summer.”

That could have been reassuring — except Sam.

“How?”

“I have a questionnaire.”

I sighed.

“You guys can go back to the room,” Sam told the others. “I can handle it from here.”

Rachel stood up and went to the door, peering through the rectangle of glass at its top. “I don’t want to take any chances.”

“I’m awake and in the sauna,” Cassandra said. “Might as well stay.”

“Seriously,” Sam said, “there’s no need for all three of us.”

Cassandra sat up and narrowed her eyes at Sam while Rachel continued to peer out the window.

“You just don’t want any more of them to run off before they show you and Noah their boobs,” Cassandra accused Sam.

Sam huffed, but didn’t deny it.

“Seriously?” Rachel asked, turning from the door.

Sam shrugged. “I like —”

“Boobs, yeah, we know,” Rachel said, going back to looking out the window.

“Why don’t you just hit the gym showers?” Cassandra asked. “There’re usually girls in there in the morning and after dinner when they don’t want to wait for their roommates to finish using their room’s shower.”

“Ew,” Sam said. “Those are incidental boobies. The boobies that come here intend to be seen.”

“Well, I’m not risking having one of those hussies as a sister just so you can see some boobs,” Cassandra said.

“This is so unfair,” Sam muttered.

Rachel spun around again and stalked right up to the rock pit in the center of the sauna.

“You want to see intentional boobs?” she asked. “Will that get you to concentrate on keeping Noah safe? Fine, here.”

Rachel grabbed the corners of her towel and spread it wide.

The lighting in the sauna was dim, but I think that only enhanced the view. Rachel’s body stood out against the white backdrop of the towel. Her skin glistened from the sauna’s heat and the darker tips of her breasts stood out against the shine. She almost thrust them at Sam and I — these weren’t just intentional-boobs, they were confrontational, and I found myself rising even further to the challenge than whatever I’d been dreaming about had left me already.

“Happy now?” Rachel asked.

Sam blinked, staring. Yeah, she’d seen the other witch nude at Rachel’s marking, and none of us except Cassandra were particularly body-modest around the cottage — something that would be hard in the open space we had. This, though, was directed-nudity, and it hit differently.

“Um … yes, actually,” Sam managed, staring intently at the other girl.

“Good,” Rachel said, “because they’re the only ones you should —” Rachel cut off and spun around, quickly wrapping her towel back around her. “Never mind.”

“You’re not seeing mine,” Cassandra muttered, but I don’t think Sam even heard her.

I don’t think she heard Rachel’s last, either, but I did, and I suppressed a grin.

We’d been dancing around Sam and Rachel since I’d bound her, with both girls hesitant. I’d talked to Sam about it a little and she was worried she’d scare the other witch off. Rachel, I think, was trying to come to terms with something she’d never even considered until just a few months ago. Practicing Purity and not being able to even think about sex with a warlock didn’t leave much room for exploring other attractions.

If Rachel was thinking hers were the only boobs Sam should need — and that was what I thought she’d been about to say — then she was clearly thinking along those lines. So far, I’d been staying out of it, not wanting to either encourage or discourage something I felt the girls should decide on their own, but maybe the two did need a little nudge.

“I think she was nicer when she was afraid of blowing up all the time,” Sam muttered, pouting.

Chapter

The erection faded in a few hours — long enough for even Sam to become concerned that I should maybe see the nurse, or at least ask Mel. The last thing I was going to ask Mel about was “Hey, why has my dick been hard for the last six or eight hours?”

Midway through the morning, we found out why Rachel was so concerned — she was worried too much Heartfire had maybe broken me, but Sam said she’d researched that and it wasn’t a problem. I wasn’t sure I believed her, but it eased Rachel’s concern a bit.

A couple days later, Thursday afternoon, the girls went to the cafeteria for a baby shower — or whatever they called it. I wasn’t invited, because … warlock. Sam and Hannah had arranged it, including wrangling every witch on campus who didn’t hate Cassandra — mostly those she hadn’t had a lot of contact with — to show up. A lot of the witches weren’t going, and I hoped the turnout was enough to make Cassandra happy about the event — I also made a mental note to have Sam plan another one for just family at Mel’s townhouse so Morgan and Felicity could attend.

So that left me in the rare position of having nothing in particular to do and no one to do it with.

When I was in foster care — it must have been the home just before Alex and Karen, because I was eleven or twelve — one home was a fifth-floor walkup. Pain in the ass, but the surrounding buildings were only three or four stories, so we at least had a view. Sort of.

One summer, must have been August, because it was horribly hot, the building next door wound up needing a new roof — or recoating, whatever the hell it’s called when you spread tar all over the roof.

All the guys in the home would sit around the window nearly every day they were working over there, drinking soda or ice water, and watching the guys on that roof work.

Lots of comments like: “Oh, bad pour. That’s gonna set before they get it spread good.” Or “That’s a nice spread, right there.” And “Hot work to do.”

I took a couple cans of soda, still dripping cold water from our cooler, and went out to watch Peter put in plumbing and electrical lines.

Peter had started the job later than expected, because the school didn’t have enough piping, or conduit, or wire, or something in stock and had to order more.

The first step was digging a trench through the forest from where the main water and electrical lines ran from the campus buildings to his coven’s cottage. That was about a hundred yards of digging, which had been fascinating to watch.

Peter worked his way from the main lines toward our cottage in ten-foot lengths, standing still and concentrating for several minutes, before the earth in front of him rose. Chunks of the forest floor ten feet long, three feet wide, and six feet deep rose into the air — sides cut cleanly, even the tree roots that ran through the cut looked like they’d not only been sliced, but sanded smooth. With every cut there were rocks, some pretty big, cut just as smoothly.

“Need to make it deep enough to get below the frost line,” Peter said, then grinned at me. “Had to load up on mana last night for this.”

I’d have grinned back, but it was hard not to remember who, and what, that consisted of — and that I’d be seeing the whos around campus for the next three years. There were some images I didn’t need to have in my mind during classes.

Peter chuckled, knowing exactly what images he’d put in my head.

I did like the older warlock, though, and we’d started having some good chats when he took a break.

“Want a soda?” I asked, holding one of the cans out.

Peter nodded, letting the next section of twenty-foot long, four-inch wide, pink piping settle back to the forest floor. He came to sit beside me on the porch.

“Have to say,” he said, nodding at the pipe, “can’t be sure the work of laying these is that much of an improvement over the chamber pots of my youth — a lot easier to just incinerate things when you were done.” He frowned. “Did smell a bit, though.”

I shuddered at what Cassandra’s reaction to that would be — then pondered when that youth might have been. Witch ages were still a surprise to me when they’d casually mention something like that.

Peter must have seen my expression.

“Born eighteen seventy-five,” he said. “Called to my coven nineteen years later — the Families weren’t nearly so entrenched here then. Evelina’s first warlock had been killed in the Brother’s War — took her some time to be prepared for another.”

“The Brother’s War?” I asked.

Peter nodded. “You all call it the Civil War now, I suppose.”

“Witches fought in the Civil War?”

Another nod. “Some — we were closer to the mundane world then, as well. Even with the Veil. No more, though — the cost finally became too high, no matter the cause.”

I could see that — there weren’t that many witches, much less warlocks, that they could afford to involve themselves in mundane wars.

“So a lot of witches died in wars?” I asked.

Peter shook his head. “Not a cost to us alone, lad, to everyone.” He took a deep breath and his eyes grew distant. “September twenty-fourth, nineteen forty-five — it was the first time in centuries those of us behind the Veil worked as one. Not all of us, but most — even many of the Fae joined us.”

“In what?” I prompted when he’d been silent for a time.

“Binding her,” Peter said, then took a deep breath and shivered, glancing at me. “Not like binding a witch to a coven, binding her to Fairy so she can’t access the mundane world. Easy to forget you’ve not grown up behind the Veil and don’t know everything we all do.” He took another drink. “August sixth that year — every Precog in the world screamed, some for hours, but we didn’t understand. Even when we learned what it was, we didn’t truly understand — not until the kitsune-mochi got word out two days later and we could scry the destruction. Even then, we didn’t understand — we only knew the visions. Hundreds of them — thousands — all different, but ending the same, as though every future led to the same end.”

“The bomb,” I said.

I wasn’t much for remembering dates from my history classes, but the year and the description made it pretty clear.

Peter nodded. “The Veil hides us from the mundanes, Noah, but it doesn’t protect them from everything it hides — and some things hidden are horrible.”

“Like vampires?”

I’d only met one vampire, but the casual way she talked about murder still chilled me.

Peter chuckled. “Worse. Far worse.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what was worse than the fucking vampires.

“The Phantom Queen,” Peter said. “The Morrigan.”

“A goddess?” I asked.

Peter shook his head. “A Power, not a goddess.”

I frowned. “Like Mel? I mean Magistra Blackwood?”

“A Power’s different. The Blackwood is described that way for being so strong without a coven, but even she pales beside a true Power. The Powers are Fae — the most powerful of them. Some were called gods or goddesses, but they’re not — doubt we could bind a goddess.”

“I thought the Fae here had been exiled from Fairy?”

Peter chuckled. “The exiles are stuck here, the others come and go as they please, and in The Morrigan’s case, the mundane world is where her influence is most strong. War and chaos.” Peter sighed. “It was one thing when the mundanes fought with swords and bows — quite another with those new devices.”

“She caused the war?”

Peter shook his head. “Oh, the mundanes have no need of help starting things, but The Morrigan’s influence makes it all so much worse. She’s not … evil, just indifferent. She even has some positive influences, but she truly thrives on the chaos of war and conflict. In any case, I’ve never seen so many of those behind the Veil agree and act in so short a time — it wasn’t just us witches who’d had the visions, you see. Nearly every tradition in the world had. They all decided on which of their own bindings might work and a date was set for … well, possibly the greatest working ever attempted.”

“And it worked? She’s gone?”

“For a time — beings of that power can hardly ever be truly destroyed, but she was bound to Fairy. Not forever, either, but centuries at least. We destroyed her earthly vessel and it will take that long for her to regain the power to create a new one.”

 “Wow.”

“Anyway — hadn’t meant to get that deep. Toilets and chamber pots are a far more pleasant topic than The Morrigan, I assure you. Has it sunk in what you’ll be telling some young warlock, yourself, a hundred years from now? Maybe a son?”

I froze, then swallowed hard. It really hadn’t. I’d accepted that witches lived so long … but I hadn’t really thought about what that meant for me.

Peter chuckled. “Thought not. He’ll likely not believe you actually had to flush a toilet. Crone knows what the world will be like then.” He drained half his soda and licked his lips. “I do have some bad news for you, though.”

I suppressed a groan. “What?”

Peter scratched at the back of his neck. “You must have really irritated Evelina — or somebody did. She was serious about you taking on all of the interior renovations. I can run the lines up to the cottage here, but after that the work’s on you.” He shrugged. “I’ll come by to check on the electrical and plumbing before you connect to these lines — but the cottage interior is your work.”

I sighed. “I’m pretty sure the girls know less about plumbing than I do.”

Maybe Rachel did — who knows what other jobs besides mechanic and bartender her grandmother had her try.

Peter chuckled. “Well, you are here for an education.”

I couldn’t argue with that — I just wasn’t sure how magical plumbing was.

Peter took a sip of his soda.

“You seem to have adjusted well, for all they’ve not thought to teach you what you really need to know.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I … think they’re teaching me a lot,” I said, wondering if the school warlock was going to dump another class or two on me — or, worse, independent study.

Peter laughed. “Plenty of classes, I know, but dropped in the thick of it, I think.”

I nodded. “Well, yeah.”

“So ask your questions, then — I won’t assign any homework, I swear.”

I let out a sigh. Questions? Where to start? Honestly, I could almost ask Cassandra why she hadn’t hired me that tutor yet, there was so much I didn’t know, but that would be all witchy-shit. What I really needed was to know how to be a warlock — one who wasn’t in the fucking Families. And most important of those questions, was how to help Cassandra.

“Um, your coven, do they ever get … unhappy?”

“You mean in the thirteen times a year way?”

“Ah, no…”

I hadn’t even thought of that — I’d read something about cycles syncing? Was that really a thing? Maybe I should get some good locks for one of the upstairs rooms so I could hide out … fuck.

Peter nodded.

“Might be best to start with something more fundamental. I know you grew up as a mundane, and they have a lot of different attitudes these days — some better, some not. Witches are more old-fashioned. There’s one leader of a coven — doesn’t matter if that’s high priestess or warlock, one person is in charge. That doesn’t mean you don’t listen to the rest of the coven — think of them as your advisers, but you’re the leader. Witches want structure — that’s why we have rituals, to provide structure to the magic. Sure, you can do the same thing by waving a hand, but it’s harder, takes more mana, and the results are iffy — the whole coven’s the same. Do they test you?”

“Test?”

“Tease, push your buttons, chaff you?”

“Chaff?”

“Ah — give you shit?”

I laughed. “Oh, yeah.”

“How do you handle it?”

“I say ‘girls’ a lot.”

Peter laughed. “In my day, it was ‘ladies.’ Do they listen?”

I thought about it. They did — it had started with Sam, when a stern “Samantha” would get me a ducked head and a little smile. It was the same with Cassandra and Rachel — even Priscilla had stopped the dating and biting teasing that morning at Mel’s.

“Until the next time,” I said, grinning.

Peter laughed again. “Get used to it, but that’s good — it’ll lessen with time, but never stop … if you’re lucky. They need that reassurance — that you’re paying attention and care enough to draw the lines. That you’re strong enough to stand with them if there’s danger, strong enough to stand up to them, care enough to not just let them do whatever they want.”

I nodded. I’d learned that with Sam pretty quickly … actually, with Morgan, first.

“Good. Keep that up — and remember it’s a two-way street. It won’t be as clearly said as ‘girls’ or ‘ladies,’ but they’re watching for you to go too far, as well.”

“One’s pretty clear — ‘dumbass feral’ is hard to misunderstand.”

Peter spewed soda from his nose. “Agh,” he said, laughing. “It’s been some time since someone made me do that.”

The other warlock was quiet for a minute.

“So, unhappy — and what to do. Trust the coven bond.”

I frowned. “I thought that was just physical?”

“That’s the compulsion — it’s part of the bond, but the bond itself is … more. You know where they are? What they’re feeling, if it’s strong enough?”

I nodded.

“There’s more beyond that. The bond wants you to be happy — all of you. It’ll guide you if you listen. Not enough do these days — fight against it, even.”

“I don’t think I’ve been hearing it,” I said, thinking about how unhappy I could see Cassandra was still, at times.

“It’s not going to send you a bloody telegram, you have to pay attention — hunches, feelings, urges. If it feels right to you, deep down, follow that.”

“What if it’s not the bond and it’s just some stupid idea of my own that doesn’t work?”

Peter stood and walked toward the wide trench and the waiting piping.

“I imagine somebody’ll call you a dumbass feral.” He gestured for me to stand. “Come on — I’ll teach you how to weld these sewer pipes together —” The older warlock grinned. “— that way if it leaks and runs down the hill to ours, I can tell Evelina it’s your fault.”