Bronwyn couldn’t sleep that night, and judging by the baking spree Alannah was presently in the middle of, neither could she.
“Hey.” Bronwyn managed a smile as she sat at the kitchen table. “Guess you’re thinking about what happened this morning.”
Alannah frowned into the bowl she was stirring so vigorously it shook her entire body. “I don’t see how I can’t. Also, Sinead snores and keeps me awake.”
The twins shared a suite with two bedrooms and a central living room. Maeve had told them the suite used to belong to the coven leader, Fiona. The same coven leader who had betrayed the coven to Rhiannon.
Thinking about Rhiannon inevitably brought her thinking round to Alexander, and she’d resolved to stop that shit.
“Want some tea?” Alannah jerked her head at the kettle.
Like a dose of the clap, Bronwyn wanted tea. “Don’t you have anything stronger? Or is that kind of against coven code or something?”
“Bloody hell, I hope not.” Alannah put down her bowl and disappeared into one of the back pantries. She came back with a bottle of whisky and plunked it on the table. “Glasses are behind you. Pour me one while you’re at it.”
After Goddess had spoken—her brain capillaries were still exploding over a speaking deity in a pool in the middle of a cave—they had returned to the castle to discuss it.
Mags had been all for going ahead with the bonding right there and then. Her confidence was somewhat reassuring, but not enough to persuade the rest of them to drop and bond on the spot.
Sinead had been the most vociferous about waiting. She wasn’t keen to take part in a ceremony she knew nothing about, with a deity she’d only realized recently wasn’t symbolic, to achieve an outcome she didn’t understand or trust.
What a wuss. Bronwyn snort laughed into her whisky.
“Cheers.” Alannah tapped her glass against Bronwyn’s. “Tell me.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Does this sort of thing happen often when you travel?”
It struck Bronwyn as inordinately funny and she started laughing. There was only so much one girl could take: ancient prophecies, men who you weren’t supposed to fall in love with, evil witches, talking ghosts and deity-infested pools.
Alannah joined her, and their laughter escalated until Bronwyn was thumping the table and Alannah was struggling to stand.
“God.” Bronwyn’s laugher abated. “I have no idea what to do.”
Alannah nodded. She got it without Bronwyn having to explain. “It goes without saying that you’re welcome to stay. Forever if you like.”
“You have to stay.” Maeve entered the kitchen, swathed in a high-neck, full-length nightgown. With her hair in a long braid down her back, she looked like a Victorian girl. “Without you, Goddess doesn’t have her four.”
“I know that.” And the vice that had been around Bronwyn’s chest since she’d first heard Goddess speak tightened. “But it’s not that simple. There are all kinds of things to consider, my house in the States, my store.”
“Passports. Citizenship.” Alannah tossed her whisky back. As it hit her belly, she wheezed and screwed her eyes shut. “Wow! Was that ever awful.” Her eyes popped open and she held her glass out. “More.”
Bronwyn topped her up then offered the bottle to Maeve. “Can I get you a glass?” She motioned the nightie. “Although, in that getup, I might get arrested for serving alcohol to a minor.”
Maeve blinked at her.
Bronwyn tried again. “You look too young to drink.”
“Oh!” Maeve grabbed her own glass and joined her at the table. “I’m twenty fo—well, no, I suppose not.” She downed her whiskey without blinking. “I’m closer to four hundred.”
Bronwyn refilled all their glasses. “You look good for your age.”
They all giggled, Maeve harder than most. “Yes, but it does make me officially the oldest living virgin in history.”
“You’re a virgin?” No way Bronwyn wasn’t following that lead.
Alannah sat forward. “So, you and Rod—”
“No!” Maeve squeaked and blushed. “Never!”
“I thought for sure you had.” Bronwyn glanced at Alannah who nodded her agreement.
Maeve took her next shot as fast as the first. “It’s because of the bond. It creates…intimacy between us.”
Bronwyn snorted. “You keep telling yourself that, sister. The rest of us will enjoy watching Hot Rod and his blue balls stomp around Baile.”
Blushing, Maeve giggled so hard she snorted. “The way you speak is so funny.”
“She’s American,” Alannah said, and then shook her head as Maeve opened her mouth. “Nope. No history lessons tonight. Tonight, we get drunk and do girl talk.”
Bronwyn raised her glass and toasted both of them. “Also, no magic talk, no Goddess talk and no prophecies.” And definitely no inconvenient feelings for woefully inappropriate men talk.
“Hear! Hear!” Alannah took her shot and shuddered.
Maeve hadn’t really had friends in the coven before. Her blessing was a solitary one and dealt with death. Nobody really liked being around death that much, not even her, and she understood it wasn’t an end but merely a transition into another state.
Another thing she wasn’t familiar with was being drunk, and she definitely thought she might be. An hour or so—she wasn’t so sure of her timeline anymore—since she’d joined Bronwyn and Alannah, and the kitchen was blanketed in a warm, fuzzy glow, or perhaps that was happening inside her. Who could tell?
Bronwyn squinted at her. “This must be so weird for you.”
“You keep saying weird.” Maeve blinked until Bronwyn’s face stopped being blurry. “I don’t think you mean weird.”
Frowning, Bronwyn replenished their glasses. Something must have happened to the whisky because it was way farther down than it should be. “Of course I mean weird. Weird is weird.”
“Not in my world.” And that made her laugh because she wasn’t entirely sure where her world was. Her head felt heavy, and she wanted to put it on the table and let the soft, warm cloud she was floating on take her into sleep. “I’m so tired.”
“Hmm?” Alannah smiled at her. “You should sleep.”
“I don’t sleep.”
Bronwyn blinked. “Why not?”
“Can’t.” She could rest her head on the table for a minute. The wood was cool beneath her cheek. “Scared.”
“No.” Alannah reeled back in her chair. “What are you scared of?”
“Not waking up again.” Her eyelids dragged toward each other and stayed closed. “Like happened before.”
“That’s bad.” Bronwyn hiccupped. “Does Hot Rod know?”
Hot Rod! That was such a silly name, and she giggled. Roderick would get all grim faced if she called him that. She might call him that anyway. “Roderick knows everything. Everything.” She waved a hand above her head to be sure they understood how much of everything. “I can’t hide anything from him. Well, I can.” She pushed herself up on her elbows. “But I did that before, and it didn’t end well.”
Alannah and Bronwyn leaned toward her, waiting. If she told them, they might not like her. Then again, they should hear the truth. “He nearly died.” The memory had her reaching for the bottle. She slopped whisky into all three glasses. “He nearly died because of me.” She blinked into the amber courage giver in her glass. “I didn’t listen to him. Then they tried to drown me. He came to rescue me. Because he had to. No choice.” Poor Roderick. He really had gotten the worst witch to watch over. “It’s what they do. The coimhdeacht.” Her new friends didn’t look like they hated her, and she had their total attention. “Witches first, them second. That’s why they all died here that day. They saved the witches first.”
Sighing, Alannah patted her hand where it lay on the table. “I can’t imagine how awful that was.”
“It was.” That day was the other reason she didn’t sleep well. When she closed her eyes, the memories of those few weeks flooded her mind. “It all got bad so fast.”
“Oh, honey!” Bronwyn blinked back tears. “You can tell us if you like.”
“It was Rhiannon.” Even now, saying that name made her wince. “And Alexander. He tried to get the villagers to put me in the water. Trial by Water, you know.”
Alannah nodded. “If the witch drowned, she was innocent. If she floated, the devil saved her, and they killed her.”
“That’s not fair.” Bronwyn scowled. “I really hate that all those women died.” Sighing, Bronwyn refilled their glasses. “I really wish I didn’t know that.”
“Me too.” The grief threatened to engulf her. “I grew up with them. They were my coven sisters. Rhiannon was looking for a way in, and somehow, she got Edana and Fiona to betray the coven. Why would they do that?” She looked at Alannah for the answer. Other than when she was shouting at Roderick, Alannah was gentle and sweet and wise.
“I don’t know, love.” Alannah took her other hand. “Maybe she promised them more power or immortal life or something.”
“It must have been the power.” Maeve liked having her hands held like this. It comforted her. “The immortal life we have. Well, not actual immortality, but as close to it as we can get.”
Bronwyn gaped at her. “Huh?”
“The magic.” She still couldn’t believe that she, of all witches, would be the one to teach the new witches. Goddess, if they knew her better, they would be as shocked as she was. “It prolongs your life. The longer you use it, and the more you use it, the stronger you become.”
Bronwyn gave this some thought. “What if you fall down the cliff?”
“The magic can heal you.” Before they went tossing themselves off cliffs, they needed to be clear on the next point. “If it can heal you faster than your injuries could kill you, then you’re fine. If not…” She shrugged, because she was certain they were getting the point.
“Cut off your head?” Alannah swiped her throat with her thumb.
“Depends how fast you bleed,” she said. “If you’re Rhiannon and have been around for thousands of years and have used…” She couldn’t find the right word. “A huge amount of magic, then she might survive.”
“Jeesh.” Bronwyn blew a hair tendril out her face. “Does that go for Roderick and the”—she waved her hand—“whatever he is?”
“Yes.” At least she assumed it was similar. “When he came to save me that time, he almost died then. Alexander cut him with his sword.” She motioned a cut across her ribs, abdomen and thighs. “But he was old, even then, and his healing saved him.”
“Boy, can I pick ’em.” Bronwyn filled up their glasses and then stared at the empty bottle. “What did you do? That nearly got Roderick killed.”
Maeve winced. It sounded even worse when someone else said it. “The healers wanted to go to the village. There was a plague, and they wanted to heal the sick.” She pointed at Bronwyn. “When you take your vows, you will always be wanting to help people. Healers care, and they can’t stop themselves. Anyway.” She took a deep breath. “Fiona said nobody could leave the castle, but I knew a way they could. Roderick told me not to, but I did it anyway.”
“He must have been mad.” Bronwyn whistled.
“Why?” Roderick had never been addled to her knowledge. “No, he was perfectly sane.”
“Not mad.” Bronwyn giggled. “Mad like angry. Pissed.”
“Furious. Enraged.” Alannah nodded.
“He was awfully bossy about me not going.” She remembered that part clearly. “But after Thomas and the others rescued him from the village, he never said anything to me about it. In fact, he said witches are witches and he was used to that.”
“Thomas is the ghost.” Alannah blushed as she told Bronwyn that. “The one we saw in the barracks.” She turned to Maeve. “What was he like? Thomas?”
“Ah!” She had liked Thomas a lot. Roderick had gotten jealous of Thomas flirting with her. “He was charming. Handsome.” She smiled at the memory of Thomas’s wicked smile. “And the most dreadful rake.” She shook her head. “He was bonded to Lavina, and she was a lot older than him. She didn’t seem to mind all the other witches sharing his sheets.”
“Oh.” Alannah’s face fell. “A manwhore.”
Maeve had never heard that expression, and it made her laugh. “Roderick was one too. A manwhore.”
Bronwyn snorted. “Hermione will be delighted.”
“Who’s that?”
Bronwyn waved her glass. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter.”
Maeve finished her last whisky and sighed at the empty bottle. “We need to get you Goddess bonded.”
“Nope.” Bronwyn thumped the table. “We’re not talking about that now.”
Maeve shrugged it off. “Fair enough.” Because she was enjoying not having to face Rhiannon and her relentless attacks on Baile, how inexperienced everyone was, how little they knew…and there she went again. “Is there any more whisky?”
“Maeve?” Roderick stood in the doorway. And he was wearing jeans, and what they called a T-shirt. Face impassive, he looked at the empty bottle and glasses, then at Alannah and Bronwyn. He inclined his head. “Blessed.”
Bronwyn stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled. “Rocking the jeans, Roderick.”
Roderick flushed and cleared his throat. “I need to look like I belong to this time.”
“Turn around.” Bronwyn drew a circle in the air with her forefinger. “Let’s see if you look as good leaving as you do coming.”
It made Maeve giggle so much that she couldn’t sit up straight.
With a hard stare at Bronwyn, Roderick sighed. “Is there a reason you’re getting my Blessed drunk?”
“She did that all on her own,” Bronwyn said. “And I’m drowning my sorrows.”
“Hello. Love what you’re doing to those jeans.” Alannah giggled and waved. “We’ve been chatting.”
Roderick picked up the bottle and read the label. “What are you chatting about?”
“Well, I’ll tell you what we’re not chatting about.” Maeve really hated it when he made her feel like a naughty little girl. “Not the situation we find ourselves in.” Raising her brow, she dared him to challenge her. Roderick was her coimhdeacht, not her father.
“I see.” Roderick stared at her. “I have been speaking with Thomas.”
Alannah sighed. “I like Thomas. He’s funny and sweet.”
“He’s a philandering whoreson,” Roderick said. “And death has not changed that. I would stay away from him if I were you.”
“He’s nice.” Maeve patted Alannah’s hand. “Roderick likes to keep all the witches for himself.”
Roderick drew his shoulders back. “And you’re the worse for drink.”
“I think she’s the better for drink.” Bronwyn giggled.
Drawing a careful breath, Roderick said, “Quite so. I came to tell you I have an appointment outside the castle. It’s why I’m dressed as I am.”
“With who?” Bronwyn scowled and swayed in her chair. “You don’t know anyone in this time. Other than—”
“Indeed.” Roderick turned on his heel, calling over his shoulder. “Nobody is to put a toe outside Baile until I return. This won’t take long.”