Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
She pursed her lips. ‘At least two and a half months. I can remove them, but you should take photos first, or have a Watcher who’s also a witch examine them. Not everyone will take my word on things.’ They’d insinuate a conspiracy was at work or something.
A muscle in Ripper’s cheek ticked. ‘Yeah, and that pisses me off.’ He turned to a clan member. ‘Go get Marvin. Tell him there’s something he needs to see.’
The wolf gave a curt nod and melted away.
‘A town meeting needs to be held,’ Ripper declared. ‘Everyone should be made aware of this.’
‘And we should closely monitor the reactions of the coven,’ Logan threw in. ‘Reena has to have suspects, but she isn’t sharing names. And yeah, okay, that’s not a surprise. You wouldn’t give up the names of people in our clan who’d so royally fucked up,’ he said to Ripper. ‘But you would act. She hasn’t. Which means we need to, because this can’t go on.’
Emberlyn sighed. ‘I do love town meetings.’
Ripper walked toward her. ‘I swear to Christ, no one had better give you shit this time – I’m fucking done with it.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
From his chair on the platform, Ripper eyed the townsfolk closely. Fifteen minutes ago he’d revealed his clan’s findings at Bloodhill. Faces had stared at him, awash with varying emotions such as shock, disbelief, anger and horror. Then the yelling had begun.
And it hadn’t yet stopped.
For once, nobody was accusing Emberlyn of anything. The clans were shouting at the coven, and the witches were either defending themselves or pointing fingers at each other while demanding people ‘fess up’ to being part of the faction. Emberlyn was literally the only witch in town who couldn’t be part of it, so not one person suspected her.
Normally, Ripper would have demanded that they calm the hell down. But he was interested in hearing just where everybody’s suspicions lay; in what names were most often thrown out as potential culprits. It must have been the same for Shane, Carver and Reena – none of them had asked for silence, either. Like him, they simply observed.
So far, though, no subtle looks were being exchanged among the coven. No expressions harbored any guilt or smugness. But then, the faction had been flying under the radar a long time – they weren’t suddenly going to give themselves away.
Ripper glanced at his witch. She sat in the front row between Kerr and Logan. To look at her, you would assume she had no interest in the current proceedings. She was calmly reading a magazine, one leg crossed over the other, one ankle idly doing the occasional twirl. Like someone passing the time in a waiting area.
Ripper didn’t doubt that she was listening to every word. And he would bet she’d chosen purposely to appear indifferent to rub the faction up the wrong way.
Well . . . if you were part of an inclusive group and considered yourself High Priestess material, it would gall you that the most powerful witch in town seemed to feel she had better things to do than discuss your existence.
A red-faced Dez leaped to his feet, glaring at Getty. ‘Would you stop pointing fingers at me! I have nothing to do with this!’
‘Ignore her, Dad,’ Ames advised as he tugged on his father’s arm, pulling him back to his seat.
‘Come on, Gill, you have to admit that Dez makes a good suspect,’ said Getty, batting at her graying bob.
Gill sighed, throwing her head back. ‘Why would he want to be part of some secret society that’s too scared to admit it exists? He has more self-respect.’
‘Thank you,’ said Dez. ‘Sera, you’re a member for certain.’
Bristling on her daughter’s behalf, Penelope frowned. ‘What secret society would welcome someone who can’t keep a damn secret?’
Sera gaped at her. ‘Mom!’
‘Well, I’m not wrong,’ Penelope defended. ‘Everyone here knows you’re a blabber. Personally, I’m thinking Hank is involved. Maybe also Patrick.’
The spines of both males snapped straight.
‘And I’m thinking you’re all playing dumb.’ Colton twisted in his seat to face the coven. ‘You can’t expect us to believe that none of you have a clue who’s part of the faction. You’re just trying to protect them from us, which makes you as bad as they are.’
Crew nodded, his eyes blazing. ‘We deserve to know the truth. Several Rabid might have died in that little spot near the sigils. Those werewolves will now never be brought back to themselves and to their families – their chance at getting their life back is gone.’
‘Which is heartbreaking,’ said Ward, his expression sympathetic, ‘but we can’t tell you what we don’t know. All we have is conjecture.’
‘You have to understand,’ began Patrick, ‘this faction has existed for a long time. It is accustomed to keeping itself secret. We think that members might even be magickly bound to withhold names of their co-members.’