But Olivia already knew all that. And she was sure this witch, Sybil, was dangerous as well. “I have to try.”
Gwen sighed. “All right.” Then she wagged a finger at Olivia. “But let me do the talking. Sybil isn’t someone you want to cross.”
Then she twirled in her perfect red suit and lead Olivia out the door.
“Is this some kind of crass little joke?” Sybil’s disgust was palpable.
Aunt Gwen stood tall under the other witch’s glare.
Olivia lurked behind her aunt’s thin frame.
Sybil wasn’t part of her mother’s coven—in fact, she didn’t have a coven at all. As far as Olivia could tell, Sybil was flying solo in her one-woman consulting firm not far from Urban Damon Design’s office. Maybe even fellow witches couldn’t stand her? She was as beautiful as Jaxson claimed—mile-high cheekbones, long raven hair, porcelain skin—but it was a haughty kind of beauty, with eyes as cold and black as space. Her barely-there, cleavage-baring purple silk blouse clung to her ample breasts and draped over her pencil-thin black skirt, amping up the sex appeal. A small trail of smoke curled menacingly from the thin finger she had pointed at Gwen.
“This isn’t a joke, Sybil,” her aunt said evenly. “And in exchange for this small favor, I’m sure Urban Damon could toss a few clients your way.”
“I don’t need your clients!” Sybil’s voice deepened like a storm gathering power.
Olivia glanced around the office—the furnishings were all extremely high end, but that could easily be glamour. The office itself was in an older, somewhat shabby high-rise, right on the edge of downtown where it started to transition to the area with the homeless shelter. Sybil certainly wasn’t doing as well as Urban Damon, no matter what she claimed.
“What’s your price, then, Sybil?” Gwen’s voice was still even, but Olivia could tell she was already starting to lose patience. “Surely there’s something we can work out with this.”
“Why do you care what happens to this shifter, anyway?” Sybil peered around Gwen to cast a bone-chilling look upon Olivia. “And who is this fledging you have hiding in your skirts?”
“She’s my niece.” The friendliness of Gwen’s voice dropped two levels. “She’s in training. I simply brought her along to observe.”
“Training?” Sybil wrinkled her nose up in disgust. “Rather old for that. A little slow, is she?”
Gwen’s hands flexed, and a bit of smoke leaked from them as well, but she kept them at her sides.
Sybil huffed her disdain for Olivia and turned back to Gwen. “So why all the interest in pretty little Jaxson? I suppose he’s all grown up now. And probably twice as hot. Hmm… on second thought, why don’t you tell me where he is? I’d be happy to make a deal with him.”
Olivia’s heart lurched. No, no, no.
But Gwen’s back stiffened. “The shifter is under my protection, Sybil Domina LeCroix. If you touch a hair on his head, you’ll be answering to me. And all the sisters of the Damon coven.”
“Ooooh, I see.” Sybil drew the words out. “Is that how it is? Have you developed a taste for wolf now, Guinevere?” She smirked, and it turned Olivia’s stomach. “Well, then, you can have the little heart-breaker… if you can handle him. All you have to do is let him sink those sexy fangs into you, dearie.”
“I’m not stupid, Sybil.” Gwen’s voice was ice cold. “I can read a curse. You’ve poisoned his bite.”
“Well, yes… his bite is certain to kill a mere shifter.” Sybil’s smirk grew even more menacing. “But you’re such a powerful witch, Guinevere Damon, I’m sure you could counter that magical poison easily enough.”
Olivia’s eyes went wide. Was that true?
Gwen glared at Sybil. “You’re lying.”
Sybil fanned her fingers around her head. “Am I? Read my aura and tell me I’m leading a sister witch astray.” Her voice was purring, and it certainly sounded like a cagey lie.
But Olivia couldn’t read her aura at all.
Gwen was staring hard at the air around Sybil’s head. “You’re saying I could take the bite and survive?”
Sybil’s evil smile grew. “I’m saying, if you’re truly a powerful witch, Gwen dearie, you’d have a fair shot at fighting it off. The curse is only as strong as I am, after all. And you and your sisters in the Damon coven are all so much more powerful than little old me.” Her smirk settled into a cold challenge. “If you want the wolf… take him. And then we’ll see who’s the stronger witch.”