The thought made my stomach clench. How could I convince them that I could help?
More than anything, I didn’t want them to shut me out and treat me like a child. No matter that I was afraid, and not used to these kinds of situations. I wanted to help.
I pulled into a parking spot outside the coffee shop, A Little Brew, that I’d been invited to, pushing my hair back over my shoulders with a sigh. I wished it was the same coffee shop I’d met Merric in. That one had at least been in a more popular area.
“It’s just coffee,” I told my reflection. “With a stranger. A witch, who probably isn’t my biggest fan. It’s fine.” It would be fine. I would make it fine.
The rain hadn’t let up at all, and on my way to the doors I got soaked, my hair plastered to my skin. The rain had gotten heavier on my way over here, leading me to squinting through my fast moving windshield wipers and unable to see well as I sprinted from my SUV to the doors.
Inside, I let my eyes do a quick sweep of the small, atmospheric shop. It was nothing like where I’d met Merric. This one screamed money, and the booths were tucked away to provide privacy, while comfortable chairs lay sprawled around the tables.
I didn’t recognize anyone.
A woman about my age stood up, hands busying themselves by twisting her dark auburn hair into a high ponytail. She met my eyes then looked away, as if not wanting to meet my gaze. Finally she gestured me over, fingers barely twitching in a come hither motion.
Was it just her? I couldn’t scent any other witches in the place, but that meant very little. They could be hiding from me.
The woman was dark haired and dark eyed. She was dressed casually in a nice t-shirt and jeans, and still eyed me like I might attack her.
Well, one of us was going to have to do something.
I approached her carefully, eyeing the cup of coffee on her table. How long had she been here waiting for me?
She slid into one side of the booth. I sat gingerly near the edge of the other side.
Her eyes went to the door behind me, prompting me to look as well. I saw nothing, and looked at her in confusion.
“Did you bring any of them?” she asked tersely. “Cian or-or your cousin?”
I shook my head. “No. Did you bring someone?”
She shook her head as well and we stared at each other over her coffee.
“I’m Siobhan,” the dark haired woman said, lifting her hand to drum her fingers on her mug.
“George,” I introduced.
“I know.” Her words were sharp and my brows jerked upward as my own hand gripped the table.“No-sorry. That’s not how I meant it. I know who you are, all of us do. But I’m not mad at you or anything.” She stared at her mug. “Are you helping the new vampire king with…things?” she asked rather obtusely.
“Things?” I pressed.
“With the vampires who don’t want him to be king,” Siobhan said carefully.
“Oh. Yeah, I-I guess I am-“
“Well you should stop.” She looked down again.
“Are you threatening me?”
Already she was shaking her head. “No, I wouldn’t…most of us in the coven aren’t like that. I shouldn’t be here either, but…” she looked to the door again. “You promise he’s not here?”
“I promise.”
“How much do you know about us?” The witch spoke after a long hesitation.
“Witches? Or your coven?”
“Our coven.”
“Not a lot,” I admitted. “I didn’t really get that good of an impression when I came down here that night. Can’t say I’m looking to have tea with any of you further.”
Her mouth curved into an unhappy look. “You’re a summoner,” she pressed.
“So glad the world seems to know.”
She glanced at me again. “I don’t think there are any lone summoners out there. They all end up in a coven one way or another.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Letting out a huff, she sat back hard. “I’m trying to help you,” she said. “Just-some things I’ve heard.I think you should stop helping the new vampire king.”
“What?” I shook my head, heel tapping in irritation on the smooth floor. “You don’t even know me-“
“Can’t he take care of it without you? You’re just one witch.”
“A moment ago you were reminding me that I was a summoner.”
“You don’t get what I’m saying!” When I sat back, she turned away from me. “I’m not–I won’t attack you if I lose my temper or anything. I’m a healer.”
That didn’t mean she couldn’t–or wouldn’t–hurt me. It just meant the damage would be worse when she did. Healers were nice, when they wanted to help, and most had even temperaments. But they could also break bones just as easily as mend them. I didn’t want to find out how helpful Siobhan was.
“Okay,” I agreed slowly. “Then what are you saying?”
“I wanted to meet you,” Siobhan went on, as if I hadn’t asked. “To see for myself…the coven says a lot of things about you, to all of us. We’re supposed to report back when we see you.” At the surprise in my eyes, she hurried onward. “I won’t do that. We’re not really supposed to talk to you, so I’d be in trouble anyway.”
“Why is it such a big deal?” I asked. She rolled her eyes at me and I wrinkled my nose in scrutiny. “Being a summoner doesn’t make me any more likely to help you or whatever,” I reminded her. “My cousin could do just as much damage as I could, and you know what her powers are.”
“It just is,” Siobhan said. “If you don’t see why, that’s fine, but to Colette, it is.” She crossed her arms, dark brown eyes meeting mine. “I wanted to meet you, and to warn you. Stop helping him. And figure out how to protect yourself. Fast.”
“From what?” My voice was quiet.
She didn’t break our
