Nick and I followed.
I made my way around the vehicle, my internal feelers open despite my unaffected wolf. This Coven hadn’t accepted Marcy, and even though her aunt was the most powerful witch in the country—and presided over the Coven—Marcy hadn’t been voted in. Witches were expected to perform precisely every time. Their rituals and coming-of-age tasks were legendary. Marcy was extremely powerful but had a habit of misfiring under pressure. Tally may have been able to overrule to let her niece in, if Marcy’s last task hadn’t been such a spectacular blunder. Over the years, on those rare occasions we drank together, she’d given me snippets of a disjointed tale—something to do with a local donut shop, na**d coeds, and a dead rooster.
Needless to say, these witches were no friends of mine.
We followed Tally through the curious spectators, who had stepped back to give us some space. Rourke had waited for me and ushered me in front. Nick had taken up the rear.
“Nice assets, cat,” one witch cackled. “Those tattoos are rockin’.”
“She doesn’t feel strong to me. I could take her.”
“She smells like a garbage dump.”
I had on a road-worn pair of leggings and a wrinkled T-shirt. I’d showered only once in the past few days. My wolf growled. Now you’re upset?
“That cat is hawt.”
Rourke ignored them like a champ, his hands firmly planted around my waist, his power sparking me through my shirt.
“I like the brown-haired one. What is he?”
“Smells like a total fox to me.”
All these comments were for my benefit. These witches weren’t challenging me for Pack status, but they were challenging me nonetheless. My wolf was ramping herself up, getting more agitated by the second.
“She does travel with some delicious men. I don’t care if he smells like a mangy feline—I’d still do him.” Several witches snickered.
“I would totally fuc—”
In the time it took to blink, I was an inch away from the speaker’s startled face.
I clacked my teeth in front of her nose and smiled widely, showing her all my pearly whites. My growl was low and harsh and she backed up quickly. Her shocked reaction was immensely gratifying. My wolf let out a shallow huff of laughter. “In order to do my man, you’ll have to go through me first,” I said through a clenched jaw. “And after defeating Selene, kicking your ass would be like punching a kindergartener. Not exactly a fair fight.”
Murmurs started in earnest, as I knew they would.
Selene, the Lunar Goddess I’d just sent to Hell, was legendary among witches. She’d been a witch herself before ascending to her godhood. The spell caster in front of me gathered her composure with effort. She was young and not very powerful, according to her low signature. But she was gorgeous with sleek black hair and almond-shaped eyes. And I’d just called her bluff in a roomful of her peers. Her expression raged as she seethed, “You don’t scare me with all your big talk, mutt. There’s no way you took on Selene and won. You’re a liar.”
Calling me mutt was standard fare, but calling me a liar was a hefty insult. Questioning someone’s honor provoked a challenge on the spot. I had to respond, but fighting her here would start something bigger than I intended. “I’d be very careful if I were you. Calling me a liar makes me itchy.” I made a fist. “My wolf is begging me to show you some of our new skills.”
“Go right ahead.” Her eyes narrowed.
Tally turned from the door, her authoritative voice rang out. “Enough, Angie,” she ordered. “What she says is true. Selene’s presence on this plane has blinked off permanently. According to Lani, it happened more than a day ago. I don’t have time to referee a pissing match right now, so I’m ordering you to step down.”
The beauty’s eyes widened just enough and I unclenched my fist.
I knew without a doubt Marcy hated this witch with a fiery passion. Her inflated ego, likely due to her beauty because she had no power, was nauseating. And if I had to guess, Angie had led the vote to keep Marcy out of the Coven. I wanted to take a bite out of her in solidarity for my friend.
Instead, I settled for snapping the air in front of her nose again with a decisive bite.
She flinched, hitting her head against the wall.
I grinned, ignoring her murderous glare, and whispered, “I win.”
“You have no idea what I can do!” she yelled at my retreating back. “You better watch yourself!”
“Quiet, Angie,” one of the other witches muttered. “Just let it go.”
“Yes, Angie,” I said without turning around. “Let it go. If we fight, you lose.”