The second the command fell from her lips, Cora felt the ground shake beneath her. She stiffened.
Something struck her in the chest, hard, knocking her breath out of her body.
“You are mine, witchling.”
Cora’s head jerked up, her heart crowding into her throat. It was the same voice she’d heard in her head, but now the woman it belonged to loomed over her. She was tall, maybe the same height as Meiner, and she seemed to glow, as if the coals from the dying fire Cora had left behind were embedded beneath her skin.
Her hair fell in ringlets to her waist. On her head was a circle of orange-and-gold flowers, set with glass beads that glittered despite the darkness, a crown of flames against her black hair. The material of her dress was strange, gold-and-black scales that moved like liquid around her form. Cora wasn’t sure if she was wearing it, or if it was part of her skin.
Her eyes were as inky black as her hair, the pupils impossibly wide. When she stepped forward, Cora scrambled back on her hands and knees. Terror flashed through her, leaving her breathless and gasping, hot and cold waves rushing over her skin. The woman was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, but there was something distinctly unearthly about her. The way she moved, the way her face turned this way and that as she examined Cora. As if she had not been born but formed herself out of nothing. The sight of her made Cora’s skin crawl.
“You think to challenge me, to test me?” The woman’s voice was a hiss, the rasp of silk on silk, and Cora blinked as the shoulders of her dress moved. A moment later she realized what she was seeing: not the dress, but a pair of snakes. Scales glittered black and gold as the slender bodies dropped from her shoulders, undulating, slinking down her arms.
“I never—” Cora hated how weak she sounded, how her voice trembled. “I wasn’t—”
The woman moved so quickly Cora didn’t have time to flinch, leaning down to catch her chin, tilting her face up so Cora was forced to look at her.
Cora’s chest tightened. She’d been wrong about the color of the woman’s eyes. They weren’t just black; they burned with light at their centers, twin flames wreathed in inky darkness.
“You will continue to be tested. Your worthiness measured, your strength tried,” Caorthannach whispered. Her mouth was close to Cora’s ear, and the goddess’s breath was like the kiss of a flame. “You will prove your dedication before I give you what you desire. Say you will prove yourself to me, Cora.”
“Aye, I will,” she gasped out.
Caorthannach reached down and seized both her wrists, hauling her to her feet with a single, violent tug. A moment later the skin beneath Caorthannach’s slender bronze fingers began to burn.
“Please,” Cora said through gritted teeth.
“You are mine.” Caorthannach’s voice was filled with hissing, with the crackle of flames. Her gaze was bottomless, drinking in Cora’s face, paralyzing her. “Mine to do with as I will. Devote yourself to me and I will grant you unlimited power, the kind you’ll need to face what’s coming. Challenge me, and I will pull you apart piece by piece.”
Cora could only nod. The skin beneath Caorthannach’s fingers had become intensely painful, burning hotter and hotter. Her eyes streamed with tears.
Caorthannach bared her teeth in a shocking smile. Her teeth were rotten, cracked and chipped and crooked behind her full red lips. Cora flinched, and the woman’s smile stretched wider. She opened her mouth, a snake about to swallow a mouse.
“Awake.”
Something slammed into the side of Cora’s face, knocked her backward, sending stars bursting across her vision. Then darkness crashed back into place and stayed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
MEINER
Thursday morning the two covens were downstairs researching again, and it occurred to Meiner that right now might be a perfect time to snoop through Grandma King’s room.
All she needed was a lookout.
Upstairs, she could hear the echo of voices in the bathroom; the door was slightly ajar. Evidently Reagan and Dayna were in there doing their makeup or something. Meiner started to turn and then paused as Reagan’s muffled voice came through the door.
“I’m just concerned. You heard Bronagh. You got pulled in because of your emotional state.”
“I’m fine, I swear. And she said it could be something like that, not that exactly.”
There was a pause, and the thump of a drawer. “I just…feel like lately whenever we try to talk about anything serious, you push me away.”
Oh god. Meiner grabbed the banister, half wanting to turn and flee down the stairs, half rooted to the spot. This was horrifying and fascinating and completely none of her business.
“That’s not what I’m trying to do.” Dayna’s voice was tense. “It’s just that I don’t deal with this stuff well. It works better for me to just…not think about it.”
“You mean push it down temporarily. You know, if you force it all into a tiny little box, it will eventually explode.”
“Oh my god, that’s so dramatic.” Dayna laughed, and then the laughter cut off and she sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. That’s just how I deal. Can we talk about this stuff later, when people stop showing up murdered? Once we’ve checked off ‘catch serial killer’ and ‘stave off impending doom’ from our to-do list, then I’ll sign up for therapy or something.”
Reagan sighed. “Abeg, I don’t believe you.”
A moment later the door swung open, and Reagan emerged from the bathroom. She stopped short upon seeing Meiner, who nodded and continued up the last step and into the hallway. Hopefully her face wasn’t turning red. She could feel her cheeks burning.
For a second, she thought Reagan was going to accuse her of eavesdropping, but she only slipped past her and down the stairs without a word.
When Dayna emerged a moment later, she blinked at Meiner, who was now standing on the threshold of Grandma King’s room. Meiner cleared her throat and said quickly, “Remember saying I should find out what Grandma King is up to? I’m going to search her room. Can you wait here?”
Dayna frowned, darting a look down the hallway. “I didn’t say I’d stand guard. I don’t know if I want to be a part of your coven’s dirty business.”
“Come on. Just for a minute? You said I should look, and everyone is downstairs. It’s perfect.” Meiner kept her voice to a whisper, pausing long enough that she and Dayna could hear the activities downstairs. Grandma King’s voice was loud and cross as she snapped back at something Cora had said. “They’ll be fighting for ages. Just stand there and make noise if you hear anyone on the stairs.”
“What noise? You want me to caw like a crow or something?”
Meiner snorted. “No, just…rap on the wall or something.”
“Brilliant, that will look super inconspicuous, me just standing here thumping away at the wall.” Dayna was starting to cave, though; Meiner could tell by the way she uncrossed her arms and leaned a shoulder against the wall with a sigh. “Fine,” she said at last. “But if you get caught, don’t tell anyone I helped you. Your gran scares the shit out of me.”