Rik sat at the table, hunched over the open journal, drumming his fingers on the wooden surface. He’d been staring at the same page for about twenty minutes. His dark hair hung down hiding his face from view but Ben could hear the warlock’s frustration every time his fingers hit the table.

“It’s a load of old codswallop!” he decried and pushed the book away from him so hard that slid right over to Ben who was sitting at the other side of the table.

Liam, who was sitting at the head of the table equidistantly between Ben and Rik, smirked at Rik’s annoyance.

“Do you know what any of this means?” he asked as he lifted the book from the table.

Liam’s smirk melted away as Ben’s mesmerisation forced the truth out of him. “No.”

“Stop smirking then.”

Ben leafed through the pages and his eyes passed over the lists of cryptic expressions that were listed within. Had it not been for the brief mention of the Parchment of Seven at the start of the book, Ben would have dismissed the entire thing as a poor attempt at poetry. He stared down at the peculiar lines of handwritten text on the page.

The father watches us all.

It carries the weight of our burdens.

A window that shows what others see.

Beauty can be deadly.

Each page of the book had a similar paragraph on it, some were longer, some were shorter, and all of them made no sense.

“It’s like an idiot’s attempt at writing riddles,” said Ben. He dropped the book back on the table. “Maybe it would be easier to just search the house from top to bottom. what if this book is just a decoy? We found it without even looking, that’s surely not a good sign, right?”

“I was searching for that for two hours. It was hidden inside another book,” Liam said, shooting down Ben’s suggestion.

“If we can just decode this moronic riddle then we’ll know where the bloody bit of parchment is,” Rik said in frustration. He dragged the book back to his side of the table and flicked the pages back to the beginning. “It is the duty of the Sorcerer or Sorceress to move the Piece of Seven to a new location at the start of their reign,” he recited. He looked up at Ben as though that one line of text proved something.

“But why would Christine or any of her predecessors bother to write it down? If the parchment is supposed to stay hidden then why leave any clues at all?”

“In case she dies without passing the secret on,” Rik said hotly, dismissing Ben’s query. He flicked back to the last page that had been written on and stared once more at the riddle as though this time he might be able to crack the code.

Except he still couldn’t. But Ben could because Ben had seen something new. Well, not new, it had been there all along but neither of them had bothered to notice. Now it was staring Ben right in the face. It was so obvious that he actually laughed. Rik cast him an ireful glare.

“What?” he said in an angry whisper. Ben was so giddy with his discovery that he wasn’t even bothered by Rik’s sour mood.

“It’s not all one riddle. Look at the handwriting. Each line of text was written by somebody else,” Ben explained.

Rik’s glanced back down at the page and it was obvious the moment he saw what Ben was talking about. His eyes widened and a grin burst onto his face. All the gritty tension that had gathered over the library had been vanquished as though a ray of sun had swooped in and dispelled a gathering storm.

“Each line is its own separate riddle and if each line is a new riddle then only the most recent one is the one we need,” said Rik. He was so excited that his words were cascading from his mouth in an endless, unbroken stream. “Beauty can be deadly. What does that mean?”

The first thing that came to Ben’s mind was Grace. She was the very picture of beauty and yet she had delivered such a heart-crushing blow to Ben. But unless she was carrying the parchment around with her that didn’t make any sense. Unless…

“Photos. Paintings. The parchment could be hidden in one of the frames.” Ben thought of all the photographs of Grace that decorated the living room.

“How are pictures deadly?” asked Rik.

Ben’s momentum deflated. He could hardly use his own very subjective experience with Grace as evidence to prove his point, so instead, he silently accepted that he was incorrect.

Ben stared up at the ceiling and Rik resumed tapping his fingers on the table as they searched their minds for a better theory.

Liam was the first to come up with something much to both of their surprise. “If beauty is in the eye holder then couldn’t the riddle be talking about anything?”

Ben and Rik simply stared at the idiot at the head of the table and wondered why on earth his coven had sent him to complete such a task. Clearly, he was out of his depth.

“First of all, it’s eye of the beholder. And second, are you really the best your coven had to offer?” asked Ben.

Still unable to refuse to answer their questions, Liam was forced to answer. “No, Zack and Kieron are both brainier than me but they both needed to be at the ceremony.” Red crept up his neck and touched his cheeks as embarrassment took him in its grip. Guilt nagged at Ben and he felt like he’d been a bit of a bully to Liam. His lack of intelligence was not his fault and therefore was not something that Ben had any right to mock. To tensions were high and if they didn’t find the parchment soon they’d all be lashing out at each other.

“He’s not completely wrong, beauty is subjective, but deadliness is not. We need to look for anything in the house that’s deadly and then rule out anything that we don’t agree is also beautiful,” said Rik. “Jewellery!” he said suddenly, sitting bolt upright.

“It’s not really deadly,” Ben countered.

“It is if you enchant it, and we happen to be in a witch’s house,” Rik said with a cheeky wink. He stood up so fast that he upended the chair he’d been sitting on. “We need to search the bedrooms. Come on!”

Rik waited around for nobody. He hadn’t even finished his sentence by the time he’d kicked open the library doors and charged off into the house.

“How do you hide something with jewellery?” Ben called after him. He grabbed Liam by the collar and dragged him out of the room too. The Ringle witch tried to protest but Ben paid him not the slightest bit of attention.

“There’s no need to be so rough!” he said as he was yanked up the stairs.

“Some jewellery boxes have secret compartments,” said Rik. Ben couldn’t see him but he could hear him rattling his way through somebody’s jewellery box as he spoke.

Sometime later they were sitting on the floor of Christine’s bedroom still no closer to finding the piece of parchment. Rik had flung the Sorceress’ jewellery all over the place in his frustration. He’d left a fair mess in each of the bedrooms in the house. Every cupboard, drawer, and box had been ransacked in their search. Every act of vandalism was going to be blamed on Liam so it didn’t matter how much they disturbed the place. Ben got the impression that Rik was letting loose some of his ill will for the Coven in his acts of vandalism.

Liam was snickering at their lack of success in the corner of the room.

“Be quiet,” Ben muttered, knowing that if he didn’t fall silent soon then Rik was going to resort to less savoury ways of shutting him up.

Rik dug his fingers into the luscious carpet and repeatedly slammed the back of his head into the chest of drawers behind him. With each bang the unit jolted and the drawers rattled.

“Do you have to do that?”

“It helps me think,” Rik replied.

“I don’t see how,” Ben said under his breath as he walked across the room. The constant banging was doing quite the opposite for him and he needed more quiet in order to assess the situation. “How long do we have until the wedding starts?” He would be stopping that ceremony whether they had the parchment or not.

With a sigh that could have rivalled a teenager, Rik checked his phone. “Hours. They’ve got all the speeches and promises, planting the trees, releasing the hares, and all the other superfluous nonsense to get through yet.”

Ben wasn’t even going to ask what the releasing of the hares was all about. He pulled out a chair from the small round table at the back of the room and plunged into it. He didn’t see how they could possibly find a scrap of parchment with only one vague, and frankly ridiculous, clue to go on. Ben shoved the scruffy stack of books that were piled on the table. They fanned out before slipping over the table’s edge and landing softly on the cream carpet.

“Well done,” Rik grumbled, but Ben did not reply.

The books that had fallen had revealed a botany book that had been sitting sheltered at the bottom of the pile. Ben had no interest in gardening but the title of the book had caught his eye and held his attention firmly.

“A gardener’s guide to the world’s deadliest beauties,” Ben said, reading the title out loud.

“What?” The words had ensnared the warlock’s attention and finally got him to stop banging his head on the drawers.

“Look.” Ben tossed the book. It spun through the air and landed neatly on the floor before Rik.

Rik’s eyes shone as he stared at the cover of the book, his mouth turning upwards. “Ben, you sexy slut,” he said.

“I would prefer not to be called that,” Ben protested.

Rik was no longer paying him any attention. He jumped to his feet and bounced out of the room, giggling like a child on Christmas morning.

“Come on then.” Ben grabbed Liam and followed Rik back downstairs and out into the garden.

“I’m not a dog!” Liam protested as he was dragged through the house yet again.

Looking around at the garden Christine kept made Ben think it would be no easier to find a piece of parchment outside the house than it was inside. The whole place was a jungle of foliage and Ben couldn’t tell an orchid from a chrysanthemum.

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” Rik admonished as he strolled through the garden using the light from his phone to illuminate the shrubs. “We only need to find the deadly ones.”

“There are no deadly plants in England,” Liam said with an air of authority that he had no right to claim.

“There are deadly plants everywhere you dolt. Besides, most of the plants out here are not native, but with a bit of magic you can make anything grow.”

“Can you spot a deadly plant on sight?” Ben asked, because if not this was a rather pointless expedition and they’d need to go back to get the book that Rik had discarded in the house.

“Of course. Any half-decent warlock knows his way around a garden.” He spared Liam a derisive stare. “Almost every potion I know needs at least one plant. There!” He shouted the final word and stretched his arm out, pointing his finger at a collection of plants that were all housed in the same planter.

Ben knew nothing about flowers so all he could see was a collection of plants, some with purple flowers and some with white. As they drew nearer he saw that some of them even had little blackberries that shined in the light from Rik’s phone.

“She’s put all her deadly plants together. Here we have deadly nightshade, foxglove, and giant hogweed,” said Rik.

“Only one of those sounded deadly,” replied Ben.

“Trust me, they’re all harmful. My estimation is we need to dig beneath them since I cannot see discern any other potential hiding place.”

Ben stared at the unimpressive collection of shrubs, reticent to get too close to any of them since Rik had just told him they were all deadly. “How deadly are they?” he asked.

Rik turned his way. “I doubt any of them are harmful to you since you’re a vampire and vampires probably have the most advanced form of healing in the world. However, touching these plants can irritate the skin and the hogweed can burn you to kingdom come.”

“Most advanced healing or not, I’m not going near them. For all we know Christine could have made them even deadlier than usual considering what she’s using them to hide, and I have no intention of going to kingdom come. I’m especially not getting sent there by a plant.”

Liam knew what was going to happen the moment Ben started to turn. The Ringle witch tried to get away but Ben was too fast for his regular human speed. A little mesmerisation got Liam digging through the dirt beneath the plants in no time.

“If we hadn’t turned up you would have been doing this anyway,” Rik told Liam in a feeble attempt at reassuring him.

“Yeah, the only difference is you won’t be getting anything out of it now,” added Ben.

Liam was careful at first. He dug around only around the edges of the planter and avoided the flowers as much as possible. After about ten minutes of watching his tedious pottering, Ben forced him to search properly. Ten minutes later he’d uprooted the plants and dumped most of the soil on the grass outside the planter. And still there was no sign of the parchment.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Rik said. He turned away from the mess Liam had made and pressed his face into his hands.

Liam was covered in dirt from the waist up and some sort of rash was creeping over his face where he had likely come into contact with the plants. He was staring absent-mindedly at the now empty planter, one hand pressed to his chest.

“Are you okay?” Ben asked, worrying that he might be about to have a heart attack before he’d told Christine the truth.

Liam’s head snapped up and his hand fell to his hide. “Yeah. Bit itchy though.”

“Itchiness is the least of your troubles,” said Rik. it was clear that Rik was rapidly descending back into his foul mood.

“I have an idea,” Ben said. He took hold of the bottom of the planter and flipped it over. The soil that had managed to remain inside rained down over the garden and the wood cracked as the planter landed.

“Mindless destruction. Great idea,” said Rik. But Ben was not finished.

He lifted his foot and stamped his way through the wood until he had revealed a very narrow hollow space inside the planter. And there, concealed inside that little space was a small metal box. Ben stared down at his handiwork with the smuggest smile he could muster.

“I fucking love you,” Rik said as he charged forward. He fell to his knees and snatched the box from its hiding place. He held it in his hands with the same care one might afford to an unstable stick of dynamite.

“I hope you’re talking to the box,” Ben said, he preferred being called a slut to Rik saying he loved him with that particular tone of voice.

“Of course I’m talking to the box.”

He ran his hands over the smooth surface, caressing it as though he was about to take it to bed.

“Can you just open it, you’re creeping us out and Liam’s having a bad enough night as it is,” said Ben, not at all enjoying the weird display of affection.

“I’m checking it for spells,” Rik snapped. He felt the box up a little more before he finally cracked it open. Inside was a single torn square of parchment. He plucked it out carefully and held it up to the light. Time had turned it brown and the torn edges were dark and cracked. There were a few foreign words written on the aged surface but nothing of any value. Not until it was reunited with the other six pieces.

“Excellent, we have the scrap of paper. Now let’s go and crash the wedding.”

“Not yet,” said Rik. He slipped the parchment piece into his pocket and turned to Liam who knew exactly what was coming. Liam was staring hatefully at Rik, his hand pressed over his chest once again. “We need the other two pieces. Which coven have you already robbed?”

Liam’s lips twisted as he tried to stop them from revealing the truth. One hand balled into a fist at his side, the other touched his chest again.“Grove Green.”

“We’re going to need to go to your house and get them.”

Liam’s tongue flicked out and ran across his lips as he tried to think of a way to stall for time.

“That will take time. You might miss the wedding.” It might have been a clever ploy if Ben hadn’t seen through it before he’d started speaking.

“I don’t think so, buddy. How would you have known you’d found the real parchment and not a decoy if you didn’t bring something to compare it to.” Liam was betrayed by his widening eyes. “I think you’ve got at least one piece right there in your pocket.”

Liam turned and ran for the garden gate. Ben had mesmerised him not to attack them but he’d said nothing about trying to get away. Ben shot across the garden, arriving directly in Liam’s path, and pushed out his palm to halt the witch in his tracks. He misjudged the speed and strength required and his palm collided with Liam’s chest with the apparent force of a moving car. Liam rebounded off Ben’s hand with a pitiful yelp and was flung across the garden.

“No!” Ben yelled, as Liam’s head dashed against the brick wall leaving a spatter of blood in his wake.

The moment Liam hit the ground it was already clear that he was dead. His glassy eyes still held the look of shock that had seized him when Ben had inadvertently launched him at the wall.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” Ben said.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, he was planning to murder Christine, remember? He’s hardly an innocent victim.” Rik said, and although his words were supposed to be comforting there was no compassion in his tone. His mind was occupied solely by the task at hand. He knelt down by Liam’s side and ripped his jumper at the chest to reveal a polo shirt beneath.

“I’m not beating myself up but I needed him to confess the plot to Christine,” said Ben. He wasn’t feeling any guilt for killing a person like Liam; in the incredibly short time he’d known the witch he’d seen no redeeming character traits.

Rik reached into the breast pocket of the polo and pulled out two aged remnants of the ancient parchment. “Oh,” he said lovingly as he united the pieces with the one from the lead box. “Three pieces in one night,” he said, climbing back to his feet. Ben had never seen Rik quite as smitten as he was with those little bits of parchment.

“And don’t worry about losing our witness, there’ll be no shortage of Ringles to mesmerise at the ceremony. Speaking of which, shall we go crash that wedding?”

The wedding ceremony was being held in the woods just down the road from Christine’s house negating the need for the car. They returned to the car only to give Jess an update on what was happening but, as Ben expected, she immediately argued against remaining in the car.

“They’re going to start drinking the wine soon, so in the interest of not running out of time, maybe you should just let her come,” said Rik.

Ben did not want the Coven to know about Jess’ existence. He wasn’t entirely sure why but his gut told him that he should protect her from them completely. If Christine knew that Ben was creating new vampires she might take exception, especially after she’d already found one badly disposed of corpse. But Rik was right and he didn’t have time to stand around and argue, so with great reluctance, he agreed that Jess could come with them. He was about to give Christine much bigger problems to worry about anyway.

“What is the wine drinking about then?” Ben asked. Rik had made it sound like it had some ceremonial significance beyond quenching one’s first or getting drunk at a party.

The woods were drawing closer with every step they took and Ben’s palms were oozing more and more sweat the closer they got.

“The wine is part of the unification. Since the ceremony is happening on Penenden territory, the Penenden Sorceress officiates the wedding. The couple swears all the usual vows about staying together through thick and thin, blah blah blah. Should either of them no longer uphold the values of the Mother Goddess the other will have grounds for an annulment.”

“Mother Goddess?” Jess asked.

“They’ve got their own religion,” Ben said hastily, eager to let Rik continue. Jess accepted the meagre explanation with a nod.

“I don’t partake in that realm of nonsense,” added Rik. “Most sensible witches don’t either. Anyway, after the vows everybody drinks. The bride’s family drinks white wine and the groom’s drinks red wine. If I remember correctly, Kieron will have to drink white wine since he is joining Grace’s coven.”

“What’s to say Grace isn’t joining Kieron’s coven?” asked Jess.

“We’re on Grace’s coven’s ground. Do try to keep up.”

“I’ll keep my foot up your arse if you talk to me like that again,” Jess threatened. Usually Ben would have found that pretty funny, but he was too tense to laugh at anything. His mind was fixed firmly on the ceremony that was going on inside the trees that were now just a few metres away. A badger could have gone past on a pogo stick whilst wearing a tutu and he still wouldn’t have so much as snorted.

“Once the wine glasses are empty the ceremony is complete. Neither the wedding nor the unification of covens will be official until the marriage is consummated,” Rik explained.

“They’ll probably hold off on that when they see the state of their house,” Ben said with an abundance of glee. The marriage would be called off long before they got near the house so that wasn’t really a concern.

“Actually, the consummation is done in the woods in front of everybody,” Rik said matter-of-factly.

“What?”

“That’s a bit seedy,” said Jess.

“It’s tradition,” Rik said, and his complete disdain for such traditions was apparent in his tone. “They have to witness the act so it can’t be denied later.”

“These covens really are living in the past,” said Ben.

“It’s just fucked up,” added Jess, expressing everybody’s sentiments nicely.

Rik stopped them at the edge of the woods and turned to face the two vampires. His face was drawn and his eyes peered out from beneath a heavy brow; it was a far cry from his usual whimsical expression.

“When we walk into these woods you both need to follow my lead. There is no place for joking, arguing, or taking stupid risks. I know these people. I know how to handle them. There are a lot of witches in there and if they decide to attack us we do not stand a chance. We’re about to go in there and drive a wedge the size of the Eiffel Tower between two covens. It’s like kicking two big hornet’s nests and then standing in the middle of them both. There’s a high propensity for getting stung. Stay quiet, stay calm, and…” he turned to look directly at Ben before saying his final piece. “…do not let your emotions get the better of you. No matter how ridiculous they might seem, these people are dangerous.”

Ben and Jess muttered their agreement that they would follow Rik’s lead. Even while he agreed Ben knew that it was not a promise he would be able to keep if things with Grace went south. If Rik suspected as much he did not say so. Instead he nodded once and then led them into the woods.

Ben could hear merry voices ringing out through the trees as they neared the wedding space. His heartbeat quickened as their volume increased. He stopped to lean on a tree while he tried to pull himself together. His mind was a mess of screaming voices all telling him to burst in and stop the wedding in the most dramatic fashion. If he didn’t clear his head and let reason prevail then he was going to get himself killed.

“Are you okay?” Jess asked. She came up beside him, her eyes full of concern.

Ben dragged his fingers across the rough bark and felt it flake away beneath his touch. Feeling the damp texture of the bark seemed to ground him and helped to calm him.“Yeah, I just need a moment,” he said.

“Are you worried that even after you split them up she still won’t want to be with you?” Jess asked.

Ben looked up, utterly astounded at what she’d said. It was clear from the concerned look on her face that Jess had intended the question to be innocent enough but she hadn’t realised that each of her words was wrapped in barbed wire.

“I wasn’t. I am now,” he said.

Jess clapped her hands over her mouth, finally seeing the venom that coated her question. “I am so sorry.”

Ben smiled to alleviate her guilt and shook his head. “It’s fine. Let’s get moving.”

Ahead of them, Rik had already found the two covens in a spacious clearing. At the head of the clearing was a hill framed on either side by a great tree. The branches of the two trees twisted and entwined overhead forming a natural arch beneath which stood Christine and the betrothed couple.

A bolt of pain lanced through Ben's chest at the sight of Grace. She was dressed in a thin white gown that draped over her body hiding nothing from view. Every part of her beauty was accentuated and the moonlight only added to her shine. Her hair had been done up in a Dutch braid and her face had been sprinkled with glitter. In one hand was a golden chalice and her other hand held Kieron’s. She looked like Aphrodite reborn.

The sight of the groom caused a stampede of hatred to drive away the longing that Grace had evoked in Ben. Kieron stood there in his stupid cheap suit with a gormless look plastered on his big square head.

The two covens stood below them watching up from the clearing. It seemed they had been arranged by coven, on Grace’s side of the clearing stood her coven, on Kieron’s side stood his. Ben recognised most of Grace’s coven. David and the two witches who had attacked him what felt like a lifetime ago were standing close to the front. Rik’s mother was standing with two other witches who Ben had not yet met.

There were only four witches on the Ringle side. A man and woman in their forties, and a much younger man and woman who looked to be in their twenties. None of them had made much of an effort with their appearances. The younger man’s jacket was in fire need of an iron and the older man had opted for a fleece that was covered in dog hairs.

Ben, Rik, and Jess watched on from their raised position behind a bush as Christine spoke to the congregation. Her words might have well been Japanese for all the sense Ben made of them. The sight before him had driven out all other thoughts from his mind because he had just noticed that every single fancy chalice that was clutched in the hands below was empty. The wine had been consumed and the ceremony was at its end.

“Stop!” he yelled, forgetting all about Rik’s instructions. Ben stormed around the bush and slid down the small incline to the clearing below. Every single witch turned to face him. On the Ringle side, his arrival was met with nothing but confusion and on the Penenden side, he was confronted by outright offence. He had gatecrashed not just a wedding, but a sacred ceremony.

Ben looked up at Grace, the only person in the clearing who mattered. She was the only member of her coven who wasn’t disgusted by the sight of him. She wasn’t exactly happy either. Once the initial surprise faded she stared down at him with wide and fearful eyes. Her face lost all colour and turned as white as the moon as she waited for the coming events to unfold. It was obvious that she wasn’t afraid of him, she was afraid of her what her mother was about to do to him.

“Benedict Blake, you’ve got a—” Christine stopped abruptly and her eyes darted to Rik and Jess who came out of their hiding places behind him.

“Riku!” Hitomi gasped. Her hand went to her mouth and she took a step back.

“Hi, Mum,” Rik said, waving awkwardly.

“You son of a bitch,” Kieron growled. He moved to descend into the clearing but Grace held him tight, stopping him from leaving her side.

Christine, ever the beacon of dignity, drew in a deep breath and raised her chin with pride. She placed a hand on each of the betrothed shoulders and pulled them apart so she could walk elegantly between them. Old dead leaves scattered before her.

“The three of you have three minutes to explain your presence and I warn you all now that it had better be good, it had better be tremendously good indeed,” Christine warned them, her voice becoming distinctly wolfish toward the end.

“You’re going to be killed,” Ben said and the entire clearing gasped.

“If this is your idea of an assassination attempt, Benedict, I must say I am underwhelmed,” Christine said to a few snickers from her flock.

“Shut up, Ben and let me do the talking,” Rik said, stepping past Ben and taking centre stage.

“Yes, you do love to hear yourself speak,” Christine said.

“Riku,” Hitomi warned her son, but he didn’t even bother to look her way.

“The Ringles have lied to you.”

“How dare you!” roared the man in the fleece, his bushy black beard quivering with rage. The other Ringles shared troubled glances, lending weight to Rik’s words.

“Calm down, Zack,” Christine said softly. “Riku please continue with your very serious and outrageous allegation.”

Rik spewed up everything that Liam told them. He told Christine that Ben had insisted on trying to stop the wedding and Rik had followed to stop him from doing so. When they’d reached the house they caught Liam ransacking the place. They forced the truth from Liam, that the wedding was part of a plan to kill Christine and take control of her coven through Kieron and Grace. They’d blame Christine’s murder on the Bearsted Coven to provoke a war and then one by one they’d destroy the other covens until they had all the Pieces of Seven to find the Coffin Stone. Liam had then died trying to escape.

When Rik reached the end of his story the clearing was so silent you could have heard a pin drop. Even the wildlife was shocked into silence.

“That’s bloody ridiculous,” Zack said and then he spat on the floor at Rik’s feet.

Rik didn’t even show him the respect of looking his way. “It’s all true,” Rik insisted, looking only at Christine.

Christine said nothing. She removed her glasses from her face and began wiping the lenses with the cuff of her yellow jacket. “That is a terribly bold scheme you’ve described there, Riku. It does indeed stretch the limits of one’s imagination. Zack is quite right in his usage of the word ridiculous.”

Zack puffed out his chest at Rik, content with his victory.

“However,” Christine continued. “Rik’s story is less ridiculous than the fact that he is operating under the belief that I did not already know about the Ringlestone plot.”

Confusion spread over the three of them and the Ringlestone witches collectively. Several people, Ben and Rik included, asked the simple question, “What?”

“I have been watching the Ringlestone Coven hawkishly ever since the unification was first suggested. You did not seriously believe that Benedict was the only precaution I took? Do you seriously believe that I would entrust the safety of, not just my daughter, but my entire coven to a vampire? It was Kieron, however, who told me everything.”

“You did what?” Zack demanded, turning his glare on Kieron.

“Yes, Zack, you’re nephew told me how you forced him to go along with your scheme to steal the Piece of Seven from the Grove Green Coven. He told me how you forced him, under various threats, to seduce his way into my family. Kieron pledged himself to our coven weeks ago.”

Zack’s face turned into fire and he strode right up to the base of the hill that his nephew stood upon. “You dirty little traitor! You’ve turned on your own family!” he roared up at him, spittle flying from his mouth in all directions.

“You turned on me first. You pimped me out like a whore for your own ambitions! You made me sleep with that hideous crone from Grove Green and you didn’t even say so much as well done when I brought the parchment back!” Kieron yelled back.

“I will kill you!” Zack balled his hands into fists and began clambering up the hill. Kieron and Grace backed away but Christine stood firm. She stared at Zak as though he were a mere child throwing a tantrum. Zack made it only halfway up the incline when he stopped. He doubled over, panting heavily like he’d just run a marathon.

“Is he okay?” Jess asked.

Zack opened his mouth and vomited a rich stream of blood all over the dried mud of the knoll. “What have you—” he couldn’t even finish his sentence before another torrent of bloody vomit was expelled from him.

“Zack!” the older Ringle woman said as she ran to help him. She made it only a few steps before her knees buckled and she began spewing up her insides all over the floor. The younger man had enough time to look at the goblet in his hand with justified suspicion before he too was seized by the sickness. Within seconds the entire Ringlestone Coven was on their hands and knees gushing blood all over the place.

All of the Penenden witches backed away from the spectacle. All except Christine who descended down the hill and strolled past her fallen enemies, taking each of them in like a work of art to be appreciated. “Did you seriously think there would be no ramifications for what you planned? Did you seriously think that you would be successful? Ours is the oldest coven in town and will not be snuffed out or taken over by the likes of you.”

Zack lumbered to his feet, blood all over his front, and began uttering a spell. Christine turned nonchalantly around making no move to defend herself. His words failed him just before his knees gave way again. He hit the ground like a falling tree and as he went still the rest of his coven fell down dead in puddles of their own bloody vomit. Christine stood in the middle of them all, her hands on her hips, and her chin raised high cutting the perfect image of a conqueror.