He flashed a grin over his shoulder. “No, you look good. I’d forgotten you had arms, since I’m so used to seeing you with that leather jacket slung over your shoulders.”
I shot him a look as I followed him down the hall. How I love our little tête-à-têtes.
My formal gown had been Tatyana and Santana’s suggestion, but I was deeply regretting letting them run wild with my wardrobe. And, presumably, Wade’s credit card. The emerald silk of the flowing skirt trailed behind me like liquid, while the structured bodice held me in like I was some medieval princess. Tiny embroidered flowers and vines curled across the waist and up to the bust, which showed a modest amount of flesh. After all, I wasn’t out to shock my new “family.” I knew I looked fierce, and it was a good feeling. Plus, no one could see my heavy-duty boots beneath the skirt, which seemed like another win to me.
“Hurry up. Everyone’s waiting for you,” Wade said, pausing for me to catch up. “Don’t make me carry you in there, Merlin, because I will. And you won’t like it.”
“Yeah, yeah. The sooner this is over, the sooner we can celebrate.”
The moment I stepped through the arched main doors, everyone fell silent. I could’ve heard a gnat fart. Already, the emotions of the gathered group were creeping toward me, threatening to overwhelm my senses. I focused on Wade standing by the door, letting everyone else and their cacophony of feelings fade into the background. He seemed proud and guarded, as though he knew what I was up to but didn’t have the heart to refuse me my security blanket.
I’d forgotten how massive the Hall was, with more of the coven’s scaly, bronzed mascots arching between the polished marble floor and the vertigo-inducing heights of the ceiling above me. The flickering lights of the chandeliers cast shards of radiance across the gathered audience.
My heart thundered in my chest as Wade offered me his arm and led me toward the wide, circular podium that stood nearby. I’d used the hidden back entrance, reserved for guests and, apparently, pledgers.
We made our way past the seven mirrors, their bronze edges reflecting the rusty glow of the torches along the wall. To take my mind off the swollen crowd before me, I wondered just how far these mirrors could reach and how fast one could get to a new destination through them. Could I get to Hawai’i if I leapt through one right this second, to avoid all of this entirely?
“Don’t even think about it,” Wade whispered, giving me a hard stare.
“What? I wasn’t thinking anything.”
All eyes were on me, and not for the first time. This place gave me an eerie sense of déjà vu. I hardly dared to look out at the sea of people, fearing it might unleash the floodgates of my Empath abilities. The last thing I needed was hundreds of feelings chipping away at my self-control, like my last big entrance here. Sure, I’d gotten a better handle on crowds, but that level of judgment, wariness, and suspicion was hard to ignore. Even so, the atmosphere was infinitely less hostile than before. There were even some smiles, if I looked hard enough.
Most of the coven seemed to be here, and they were all wearing uniforms like Wade’s. The Rag Team were on the sidelines, plus Garrett, with his former investigative squad lined up sheepishly beside him—minus Finch, of course. On the podium itself, Tobe, the Beast Master, stood at the farthest edge, while the preceptors took up the chairs that had been laid out for the occasion. All six were there: Jacintha Parks, Hiro Nomura, Sloane Bellmore, Oswald Redmont, Lasher Ickes, and Marianne Gracelyn. O’Halloran stood behind them with his arms folded, looking sharp in his black uniform, while Wolfgang Krieger had taken a seat to the side, closer to Alton. Krieger seemed oddly distracted, his chair slightly turned and his clinical blue gaze fixed on one of the mirrors, as though he were hypnotized. He snapped out of it as Alton nudged him and stood for my arrival.
One
Harley
Fear seized me like a boa constrictor, wrapping tight around my chest. I sank back against the wall of the coven’s elegant hallway and hoped nobody would see me. The shadow of a majestic dragon hid me from sight. To be honest, I’d never paid particularly close attention to them before, despite the statues being absolutely everywhere. Talk about theming. No one could ever be in any doubt about what the San Diego Coven’s mascot was.
I smirked. Wade would’ve killed me for calling them mascots.
“They’re emblems of our strength and fortitude,” he’d have said, no doubt flashing me a withering look for good measure.
Down the hallway, classical music rang out, and my stomach twisted in knots.
Get your ass in gear. You’re a Merlin—stop being a coward. I’d been giving myself the same pep talk all the way down from the living quarters. At the magnolia trees, it had taken every ounce of willpower I had not to turn around and run back up the stairs. In ten whole minutes, I’d moved ten yards down the hall. A yard a minute… way to go.
A few minutes more, and I’d be late.
Then again, what had they expected, leaving me alone in my room to go out-of-my-mind crazy all morning? Whoever thought noon was a good time for a ceremony was evidently out of their mind, too. I’d have preferred dawn, since I hadn’t slept last night anyway. Hell, why hadn’t we gotten it out of the way as soon as I’d said I’d pledge?
I wasn’t really the nervous type, but this felt different somehow. I’d have to stand in front of a crowd of hundreds, with everyone staring at me, silently judging my worthiness. Having never really been part of anything for longer than a couple of years, the prospect of being a true member of the coven was as frightening as it was exciting. This was a lifetime deal, and I kept wondering when the devil was going to pop up and reveal himself. It was the foster kid in me, always expecting the good to be ripped away at the last second. Aside from the Smiths, the San Diego Coven was the best thing to ever happen to me. Here, for the very first time, I felt as though I belonged. I wasn’t an addition to something… I was integral to the whole thing. A cog, instead of a spare bolt left behind in the box.
Not to mention that during the night my mind still raced with thoughts of everything that had happened in the last few weeks. I’d been at the coven for just over a month, but it felt like a lifetime. Katherine Shipton was out there, somewhere, and it was only a matter of time before she made her next move. She had the kids—I knew she did—but we had no way of knowing what she was going to do with them. Plus, she had to be pretty pissed by now. We’d knocked down three of her pawns, stalling her way to checkmate.
Emmett Ryder was dead and buried, with a simple marker above his tomb that detailed his crimes. The coven had put his body in the Crypt, deep below ground in the SDC in a restricted zone that only Alton and the Mage Council had access to. Meanwhile, Emily Ryder was stuck in Purgatory and had yet to breathe a word of Katherine’s plan—or “Katie,” as they’d so sickeningly called her. No person that evil could have such an ordinary name. Stalin, Vader, or Hitler, maybe, but not friggin’ Katie. Finch was the same, stewing in staunch silence. Although, cracks had started to appear in his frosty façade, like the initial split of a heavy boot on solid ice. A bit more pressure, and he might be the first to break.