A Discovery of Witches(223)

“Four witches, three vampires, and two daemons,” Sophie said dreamily, her hands still on her belly. “But we’re short a daemon. Without one we can’t be a conventicle. And once Matthew and Diana leave, we’ll need another vampire, too. Is Matthew’s mother still alive?”

“She’s tired,” Nathaniel said apologetically, his hands tightening on his wife’s shoulders. “It makes it difficult for her to focus.”

“What did you say?” Em asked Sophie. She was struggling to keep her voice calm.

Sophie’s eyes lost their dreaminess. “A conventicle. That’s what they called a gathering of dissenters in the old days. Ask them.” She inclined her head in the direction of Marcus and Miriam.

“I told you this wasn’t about the Bishops or the de Clermonts,” Em said to Sarah. “It’s not even about Matthew and Diana and whether they can be together. It’s about Sophie and Nathaniel, too. It’s about the future, just as Diana said. This is how we’ll fight the Congregation—not just as individual families but as a—What did you call it?”

“Conventicle,” Miriam answered. “I always liked that word—so delightfully ominous.” She settled back on her heels with a satisfied smile.

Matthew turned to Nathaniel. “It would seem your mother was right. You do belong here, with us.”

“Of course they belong here,” Sarah said briskly. “Your bedroom is ready, Nathaniel. It’s upstairs, the second door to the right.”

“Thank you,” Nathaniel said, a note of cautious relief in his voice, though he still eyed Matthew warily.

“I’m Marcus.” Matthew’s son held out his hand to the daemon. Nathaniel clasped it firmly, barely reacting to the shocking coldness of vampire flesh.

“See? We didn’t need to make reservations at that hotel, sweetie,” Sophie told her husband with a beatific smile. She looked for Em in the crowd. “Are there more cookies?”





Chapter 40

A few days later, Sophie was sitting at the kitchen island with half a dozen pumpkins and a sharp knife when Matthew and I came in from our walk. The weather had turned colder, and there was a dreary hint of winter in the air.

“What do you think?” Sophie asked, turning the pumpkin. It had the hollow eyes, arched eyebrows, and gaping mouth of all Halloween pumpkins, but she had transformed the usual features into something remarkable. Lines pulled away from the mouth, and the forehead was creased, setting the eyes themselves slightly off-kilter. The overall effect was chilling.

“Amazing!” Matthew looked at the pumpkin with delight.

She bit her lip, regarding her work critically. “I’m not sure the eyes are right.”

I laughed. “At least it has eyes. Sometimes Sarah can’t be bothered and just pokes three round holes in the side with the end of a screwdriver and calls it a day.”

“Halloween is a busy holiday for witches. We don’t always have time for the finer details,” Sarah said sharply, coming out of the stillroom to inspect Sophie’s work. She nodded with approval. “But this year we’ll be the envy of the neighborhood.”

Sophie smiled shyly and pulled another pumpkin toward her. “I’ll do a less scary one next. We don’t want to make the little kids cry.”

With less than a week to go until Halloween, Em and Sarah were in a flurry of activity to get ready for the Madison coven’s annual fall bash. There would be food, free-flowing drink (including Em’s famous punch, which had at least one July birth to its credit), and enough witchy activities to keep the sugar-high children occupied and away from the bonfire after they’d been trick-or-treating. Bobbing for apples was much more challenging when the fruit in question had been put under a spell.

My aunts hinted that they would cancel their plans, but Matthew just shook his head.

“Everyone in town would wonder if you didn’t show up. This is just a typical Halloween.”

We’d all looked dubious. After all, Sarah and Em weren’t the only ones counting the hours to Halloween.

Last night Matthew had laid out the gradual departure of everyone in the house, starting with Nathaniel and Sophie and ending with Marcus and Miriam. It would, he believed, make our own departure less conspicuous—and it was not open to discussion.

Marcus and Nathaniel had exchanged a long look when Matthew finished his announcement, which concluded with the daemon shaking his head and pressing his lips together and the younger vampire staring fixedly at the table while a muscle in his jaw throbbed.

“But who will hand out the candy?” Em asked.

Matthew looked thoughtful. “Diana and I will do it.”

The two young men had stormed out of the room when we broke up to go our separate ways, mumbling something about getting milk. They’d then climbed into Marcus’s car and torn down the driveway.

“You’ve got to stop telling them what to do,” I chided Matthew, who had joined me at the front door to watch their departure. “They’re both grown men. Nathaniel has a wife, and soon he’ll have a child.”

“Left to their own devices, Marcus and Nathaniel would have an army of vampires on the doorstep tomorrow.”

“You won’t be here to order them around next week,” I reminded him, watching the taillights as they turned toward town. “Your son will be in charge.”