Chapter Twenty-One
I said pipe down!" Vivian said crossly when the room reacted to the doors locking. Trent tried to quiet Lucy with an offered pinkie, and she protested, refusing it. Behind me, my mother piled her stuff on the empty seat next to her and settled in, completely unfazed. Pierce ran a nervous hand over his soft curls, taking his hat off and dropping his hand to finger his stolen badge.
"You will shut up!" Vivian shouted, cheeks coloring when Oliver said something only those on the stage could hear. "As the junior member of the coven, it's my responsibility to maintain order at these proceedings, and you will be silent or I'll gag you myself!"
My mother leaned forward, between Pierce and me. "She's a bit of a hard-ass," she said, and Jenks buzzed his wings.
"You've no idea, Ms. Morgan," he said. Then he sat on my shoulder, his wings tickling my neck. It was good to have him back.
Vivian put her hands on her hips and waited, frowning. Slowly the witches grew silent as she used a sixth-grade-teacher stare on them. I put a hand on my stomach, feeling sick. Everyone I cared about was around me. Oliver had promised to clear my name if I publicly apologized for using black magic and never went to the press with the fact that witches were stunted demons. I had held up my end of the bargain, even when the coven had tried to off me, but Trent, playing peekaboo with Lucy, believed they'd back out of it, scared I'd go to the press with the ugly truth anyway. If Oliver called my bluff, I didn't know if I could do it. Not only would it destroy our society, but it would upset the balance of everyone else's. I'll hurt him. I'll friggin' make Oliver sorry if he screws me over.
I jumped when Pierce touched me, a slow trickle of broken ever-after turning into a rush that made me feel ill once he had my attention. "You need this," he said, slipping me the security amulet.
"Pierce, no," I whispered, not taking my eyes off the stage as I tried to shove it back into his hands, but he only dropped it in my pocket. Neither one of us was touching it, but it was a ley-line charm, and I tried to dampen the flow to something that didn't feel like tinfoil on teeth. My headache eased, and I was starting to wonder if I needed to be in touch with a ley line to feel good.
"Thank you," I whispered, and he sat in his chair, totally happy with himself.
"It's a trifle," he said, and I touched his hand with my free one, completing the circuit and giving him a taste.
"I mean, for being here with me," I said, and he smiled.
"I know." From my other side, Trent sighed dramatically, and Pierce pulled away, turning his attention to the stage.
"Thank you," Vivian said sarcastically, not a hint of overdone dramatic flair in her speech. "This is going to be a long night, and I want it done before sunrise so you princess wannabes can hit the fairy ball on the beach, so I'm going to throw out all the dramatic crap you're all used to from Oliver and cut to the chase."
The casual, matter-of-fact manner in which she was conducting herself had caused a stir, but I was relieved. Vivian was a bit of fire and spit, and I didn't think I could stomach seeing her standing before us in robes and speaking with the airy distance of pomp and circumstance.
"This doesn't mean I will be dispensing with the rules," she said, accentuating the word as if talking to Oliver alone. "And since we can't do anything without a full quorum, we're going to take five minutes and swear in a new coven member."
Beside me, Pierce trembled. His hands formed fists, and then he opened them, setting them on his pants with his fingers spread wide. There was an excited reaction from the crowd, and my attention went to the five hopefuls sitting in the same row we were but on the other side of the theater.
"Initiates?" Vivian said, her mood shifting to one of ceremony.
"Excuse me," Pierce said as he stood, causing a stir among the people who noticed him.
Trent looked up at him in surprise. "Where is he going?"
I didn't answer, instead leaning back when Ivy touched my shoulder and whispered, "This should be interesting."
Vivian hadn't noticed him crossing to the second set of stairs, focused on the other five hopefuls coming up the left side. "After much deliberation...," she began, then hesitated as the crowd reacted to Pierce taking the stage and walking steadily forward. Vivian turned to him, and I swear her eyes held amused anticipation.
Pierce halted, just shy of center stage. "May I approach, Madam Coven Member?" he asked, voice booming so he could be heard without an amulet.
Oliver reached to touch his own amulet. "No," he said flatly, and Vivian gave him a withering look.
"You gave me this job, Oliver," she said sharply. "Let me do it." And as Oliver frowned, she turned and dramatically crossed the stage to hand him another amulet. "The coven recognizes Gordian Pierce."
Pierce fingered the metal ring, his eyes going everywhere but to me as he took off his coat and went to set it over the podium. Slowly he took over the stage without saying a word. His head came up, and the crowd became still. He wasn't wearing anything unusual, just brown slacks, a white shirt, and that flamboyant vest, carefully buttoned and holding a pocket watch. The way he carried himself evolved as he stood there, and I stifled a shiver as Trent grunted in surprise. He was different, dangerous. And I had no idea what he was going to do.
"I'm of a mind to beg your pardon, Madam Coven Member," he said softly, his words going out perfectly with the help of the amulet. "And with all due respect to those fine witches you have assembled here, sworn in and ready to commit their lives to service, there is no coven opening. I am here.
I am the sixth. And that's all the pie there is."
The crowd stirred, most of the noise swallowed up by the space. With a sliding sound of wood, Oliver stood. "Get him out of here!" he roared, stirring the people into a buzzing whisper.
Pierce didn't recognize him, fixed on Vivian, waiting out the noise.
"You are a black witch!" Oliver shouted. "Shunned and-"
Pierce spun, and Oliver's words choked off. "Bricked into the ground, aye, where I gasped out my last, six feet under, buried alive and breaking my nails to bloody stumps as I tried to claw my way free. And I died despite it. But I'm a coven member nonetheless, and I have returned to claim my position. And 156 years of back pay."
Ivy leaned forward and tapped my shoulder. "I take back everything I said about your sleeping with him."
"Gee, thanks," I said dryly, and Trent stifled a guffaw. Jenks, though, clattered his wings for us to shut up so he could hear.
The other coven members put their heads together, and I waited, watching them. Amanda looked scared, Oliver full of bluster, Wyatt peeved, and Leon like he wanted it to be over.
It took only a moment, and then Oliver said, "You are a black witch, tried and condemned. You have lost your claim. Security!"
Dropping back a step, Pierce took a stiff stance. I knew he couldn't tap a line, but it was dramatic, and the approaching men halted before they even hit the puddle of light.
"I will be heard!" he shouted, eyes angry. "This meeting, called for Rachel Morgan to apologize for using black magic in her effort to save lives, is a farce. The goal here is to validate or deny the use of black magic for the greater good, not apologize for using it. I opine that until you make a fist of the issue, I have a claim!"
Vivian waved security back, and Pierce relaxed. From the audience rose a nervous murmur. Oliver, though, seemed too catty for my comfort. He looked to his left, then his right, to get everyone's opinion and their nods, and sat back down with a magnanimous gesture.
Crap, it was all or nothing now. Apologizing wasn't going to do it. I had to justify myself. Thanks, Pierce.
Vivian's smile grew wide, as if that was a good thing, and I let out a breath, unaware that I'd been holding it. "The vacant coven membership remains in question then," she said, glancing back into the wings to someone on the support staff. "All in favor of exploring the validity of legalizing black magic in specific people for the intent of the greater good and using the case of Rachel Morgan as the cornerstone?"
As one, they all muttered their ayes.
"Opposed?"
It was simply a formality, but no one breathed as she waited to the count of five. Clearly pleased, Vivian looked down at me, and my heart stopped. "Rachel, is this okay with you?"
"S-sure," I stammered when Trent jabbed his elbow into me.