Wolf's Kin (Monstrous Hearts #3)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Faustine stuck her tongue out at a portrait of the hag mother while stuffing yet another dress into the garbage bag, trying to get the yards of brown silk brocade all inside. She had gone through half of the dead witch's closet without finding anything worth keeping. "Can you believe these clothes? She had no taste at all."

"Some of her jewelry is nice," said Marie, seated at the nearby dressing table. Gold bracelets marched up her arms. Ruby, sapphire, and emerald rings flashed on her fingers. She posed with her chin in her hands and studied the effect in the mirror. "I guess these eyes aren't too bad. Why did we lose everything we took from that little bitch? Hers were nice."

Faustine pulled out a pair of Georgian-era shoes of silk and leather dyed blue and embroidered with silver flowers. She grimaced at their pointed toes and threw them in with the dress. The bag was starting to bulge. "Who cares? At least her pet wolf gave up looking for us."

"Are you sure?"

There was skepticism in Marie's voice, not fear, and Faustine immediately looked up. She couldn't remember the last time the other witch had questioned her. "We're alive, aren't we? No one can find this mansion unless our king wills it."

"Edric doesn't do anything except sulk in the mud. If the hag mother's death couldn't stir him up, what chance do we have? Let's just leave him and find a new coven." Then Marie held a pair of diamond earrings to her ears. They glittered against her fair hair, and she smiled.

Faustine tied off the bag and shoved it toward a heap of others. "The other covens are shattered by that bastard wolf. Edric is our best option. Now take these out. They're starting to pile up."

"In a minute. I'm busy."

"With what? You don't expect to wear those, do you? They're old-fashioned and ugly."

"I like them." Marie's fingers curled protectively against their rings. "Anyway, you're the one who wanted to move into these rooms. Why don't you take out their garbage?"

Faustine scoffed, rising to her feet. "You're letting that tiara go to your head. You aren't the new hag mother of the coven, and you definitely aren't its queen."

"Neither are you."

For a moment, Faustine only stared at her. Then she smiled, wide and fixed, and approached the other witch from behind. As she began tucking Marie's hair behind her ears to better reveal the glittering earrings, she said, "Playing dress up doesn't make you an adult. I was the smart one in this coven, no matter how many books Cleo read. The rest were always jealous. Now they're just dead. So, let me do the thinking, all right? You got this far by being a follower, not a leader. It's your natural role."

Then she straightened up again, missing the hatred that flickered in the other witch's expression. "Take out the trash. I need to check the other closets and see how bad they are."

As soon as she was out of the room, Marie scowled and muttered, "You're not a leader, either. Just a basic bitch."

The sourness in her face faded as she opened another drawer in the jewelry box, revealing a three-strand pearl necklace waiting in a bed of red velvet. After so many years of living on the unsatisfying scraps of magic and luxury available to lower members of the coven, resisting the hag mother's jewels was impossible.

Her gaze dropped from the mirror while she put it on. The gold clasp was fiddly, but the strands already felt as luxurious as silk against her neck. She was smiling even before she looked into the mirror again.

Then she jerked, the necklace rattling like loose teeth. A second reflection had joined her own.

"You?" she gasped, recognizing the witch they had killed. But it couldn't be. She had been burned to ash. She couldn't be back as real flesh and blood.