They’d need a new Queen.
Having her on our side would work to our advantage in the conflict that had been brewing for centuries.
“Right, so she’s off limits for the Reaping then,” Kairos said, grinning as he shoved his hands into his pockets. The memory of Willow touching him from the back seat was like a burning flame in my blood, making me want nothing more than to rip out his throat.
Even I knew that was probably irrational, since Willow had been the one to do the touching.
I’d put an end to that now that she had more of my blood in her.
“None of the witches are to know about it,” I said, taking a sip of my whiskey and watching their puzzled looks. I could understand it, because what was the point in making a claim of ownership over a witch if I didn’t want the world to know she was mine?
“Why not?” Juliet asked, stepping up and taking the drink from my hand. She tossed back a sip of her own, holding my stare as she handed it back.
“She likes to play games,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “And I want to watch her be the one to squirm for once.”
Juliet chuckled, shaking her head as she made her way back to the sofa. “This should be interesting.”
“Who wants to place bets on how long it takes for her to rip out his throat?” Kairos asked, looking at the other Vessels in the room. While Kairos and Juliet were my closest confidantes, the others were my people in the same way the witches belonged to the Covenant.
They were my responsibility, my duty. But where Susannah Madizza was more than willing to let hers die; I would do anything to protect mine.
Even risk the wrath of the little witchling waiting in my bed.
24
WILLOW
I woke slowly, pressing up to sit. My body hummed with warmth as I looked around the empty room. The door to the bedroom was closed, the room unfamiliar except for the fuzzy haze of being brought here when I’d been in pain.
I touched a hand to my ribs, finding nothing but smooth, unblemished skin when I twisted to look at it. The memory of Gray’s blood came over me quickly, making me queasy with the reality of what that might mean.
The area between my legs throbbed with need, as if the blood he’d given me had only amplified the desire he’d created in me before. I wanted to tear his throat out. I wanted to tear his clothes off.
The fact that I wasn’t even sure which one I wanted more terrified me.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, pausing for a moment to glare down at my ruined shirt. The buttons were missing, and I found one on the floor as I looked around. With a scoff, I tugged it off my shoulders and tossed it onto the bed behind me. Making my way to his closet, I helped myself to one of his dress shirts, slipping it on over my shoulders and buttoning it slowly.
It was so long it covered my skirt entirely, so I unzipped the stiff green fabric and shoved it down my thighs. I couldn’t stand to wear Susannah’s house colors for another moment. It gathered at my feet, leaving me to step out of it and toss it onto the bed with my ruined shirt. With only my thigh-highs and Gray’s shirt, I swallowed as I moved to the door and pried it open to peek out.
The seating area was empty, so I pulled the door open wider and stepped out. I ran my fingers over the back of the sofa as I moved, glancing at the books covering his coffee table. I wouldn’t have pegged the immortal being for a reader, but there was no denying the way they were littered around his space.
“Are you looking for something in particular, Witchling?” he asked, his voice coming from the alcove where I knew his desk was. I moved toward it slowly, a flush creeping up the back of my neck as I tried to will the need in my body to just die already. The depth of his voice did something to me, sending a pang of want through me, which I felt with every step.
“Something sharp and pointy, preferably,” I said as I strode toward the alcove. I touched my hand to the wall as I curved around it, feeling the moment his gaze settled on me.
He dropped his pen to the desk, leaning back in his chair as he stared at me. “Are you sure about that? Helping yourself to my shirt, I would be inclined to say you’re looking for something to gag on.”
My mouth dropped open, an incredulous laugh tearing free from my throat. Of all the things he could have said…
That was the last thing I expected.
He grinned as he stood from his chair, stepping around the edge of the desk to approach me. He stopped in front of me, making no move to touch me.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his forehead pinching as if he were genuinely concerned.