Page 32 of Of Flame and Fury

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Page 32 of Of Flame and Fury

“Yeah, yes, um,” we all say at once, hoping she’ll stop there.

She doesn’t.

“One time, we were playing dirty pirate slut and Captain Hotness.”

“Shayna,” Emme admonishes. “That’s so offensive.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Emme. I didn’t mean to offend you. If it makes you feel better, we didn’t go through with it. My hook kept getting in the way, and Koda’s skirt was way too tight on him.”

“Please stop speaking,” Celia begs her.

Emme’s face could set this whole place on fire. “Um, how are you doing, Celia?” she asks.

“I’m all right. I’m just trying to focus on the lake.”

Emme smiles. “I know it’s always brought you peace. Is it helping?”

Celia shakes her head. “Not as much as I’d like it to. It’s restless tonight and calling to me.”

I adjust my position. “Calling as in wants you with it?”

“I don’t know about that,” she says. “During some of our rougher times in the region, Tahoe has been more active, responding to the bad and relishing in the good we’ve managed. I suppose it’s trying to communicate what it’s feeling as a result of what’s happening. That’s what I mean by calling.”

Her back straightens when the distant growls and hisses increase in cadence. She sighs when they dwindle slightly.

“You look terribly uncomfortable on the floor, Celia,” Emme tells her. “Would you like me to look for something you can sit on or possibly rest against?”

“It’s not a good idea, Emme,” Celia replies. “If we have to abandon this place in a rush, we can’t leave traces of our presence.”

Emme nods. “That makes sense.”

Shayna turns briefly away from her watch. “Should we make a run for it?” she asks. “Nothing is moving out there, yet. We may lose our chance if we don’t act soon.”

A shrilled scream cuts through the night. Above us, lavender sparks from a leftover spell hit the glass ceiling and cascade down like glitter. Celia scrunches her eyes closed.

“That was Genevieve’s Captain of the Guards,” Celia says.

I bite down on my lip. Bad idea since leftover dead things coat it. “This isn’t good,” I say. “Genevieve was grooming her to lead a sister coven in Oregon.”

“Why Oregon?” Shayna asks.

“Genevieve is building covens along the entire Northwest,” I explain. “Diana, her captain, was a tough witch and a hell of a strategist.”

“What about Genevieve?” Emme asks. She wrings her hands. “Do you think she’s still alive?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t caught traces of her voice in a long time,” Celia admits. She shifts her weight, her hands rounding on her belly. “But I think Taran would have felt her death if she was gone.”

My brows knit. “Me? Why me? We’re not exactly close.”

Celia smiles. “You were accepted as a sister of the coven. You’d feel her perish no matter what you felt for each other in life.”

“Hey, she started it,” I counter. I shrug. “Don’t put the moves on my man, and I won’t feel the need to smack you around.”

Celia laughs. “She’s a good person, Taran,” she says. “A friend to theweres.”

“Is she?’ I smirk. “So, if you catch her cozying up to Aric and whispering sweet nothings into his ear with her oh-so voluptuous bosom inches from his face, you’d be cool with that?” She stops smiling. I clasp my hands behind my neck and stretch out my legs. “Yeah, kitty, kitty. That’s what I thought.”

Emme attempts to finger-comb her wild blonde hair. She gives up when she pulls out what may or may not be a piece of eyeball. She grimaces, shaking out her hand. “Taran, may I ask you a question without offending you?”




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