“I still say it’s a trap,” Rhun grumbled from the driver’s seat.

Merle sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I know. I’m wary, too, okay? But this is still our best chance for peace.”

Pale blue-green eyes met hers, the intensity in them jolting. “You could have at least pressed her for a meeting time at night. If something goes wrong in there, I can’t help you with my demon powers.” He paused. “Although I will enjoy ripping Juneau to shreds with my bare hands if I get a chance today.”

He had a point there. Lily and Alek had to stay home altogether since they couldn’t even risk the exposure to sunlight. And considering that Merle wouldn’t be able to use her magic if push came to shove…

But— “You’re acting like I’m not joining up with half a dozen other Elder witches, who each pack enough of a punch to splinter your spine with less than a thought. If something goes wrong, we’ll have enough firepower on our side to get out of there.”

“You’re short on numbers, though.” A somber statement, his concentration steady on the road. “With Hazel still gone, and you unable to tap your magic, Juneau has two more witches ready to fight.”

She grabbed his hand over the console, squeezed. “Nothing will happen to me. Or our baby. We’ll just see what Juneau has to say, and—the gods willing—we can end this damn conflict and unite the witch community again.”

His mouth pinched into a tight line. “Those gods don’t have a very good track record for working in our favor, little witch.”

She didn’t reply, only squeezed his hand again, stewing in her own thoughts until they reached the pre-meeting place where she would join up with the others from Aequitas. They’d walk to the spot of the proper meeting together, having decided that to arrive as one was the safest bet.

Last night Merle convened a quick meeting with the other Elders on her side to discuss their response to Juneau’s call for a talk. Turned out the other heads-of-family had received the same letter as the Murrays—and Merle had, indeed, found one at her own home as well.

Hazel’s continued absence was a hot topic, and even though it would be highly inconvenient to attend the meeting with the Draconians—the names had been accepted as fitting by the rest of the Elders—without Hazel, everybody agreed that postponing the meeting for an indefinite amount of time might be too risky. They had no idea when Hazel would be back. If it took a week or more, would Juneau change her mind in the meantime?

Better to meet now and grab this chance at peace, even if it meant Juneau would realize they were one witch short.

Rhun parked the car in the lot of a small business park, and Merle walked ahead to the group of the witches already present, standing next to the distinctive bright red truck belonging to Patricia, the head of the Jones family. They waited a few minutes for the last one, Kristen Frost, to arrive, and then made their way down a few blocks to the small city park where the meeting with Juneau was supposed to take place.

They’d all agreed on a public venue in the bustle of the city. Less likely for any of them to resort to violence with so many humans around. If there was one thing Aequitas and Draconians both still cared about, it was safeguarding the human population.

Additionally, wards would keep the peace of the meeting, and all participants were to swear an oath not to harm each other for this conference.

“How are you feeling?” Elaine, head of the Donovan family, asked as they walked together.

The other Elder was privy to Merle’s pregnancy, being one of the witches Merle trusted completely. Elaine was the one who walked out of the final Elder meeting convened before the community broke apart, after Juneau declared both Hazel and Merle traitors to witchkind for their refusal to hand over Lily after she was turned into a demon. Elaine had also called Juneau a warmongering bitch on her way out, making no bones about the fact that she couldn’t stand the attitude and tactics of the head of the Laroche family. Half the Elders followed Elaine’s lead, and thus the two factions came into being.

“Pretty good, actually,” Merle replied. “The nausea’s not too bad.”

Elaine nodded, her chin-length brown hair bobbing with the motion. “Let me know if it gets worse, and I can have Becky help you out a little.”

Becky Donovan, third daughter of Elaine, was one of the most talented healer witches in the community, her gentle nature never failing to calm anyone, often just by being in the same room.

“Thanks.” Merle gave the older woman a smile, her heart stinging a bit despite the friendly offer.

Usually this kind of caring for a pregnant witch’s needs was done by the head of the family, or other, older female relatives.

Merle didn’t have anyone like that anymore. She was the oldest witch in her family—with no mother, older sister, or grandmother left to care for her needs. It was a selfish hurt, but it hurt nonetheless.

They neared the arranged meeting place, a cluster of picnic tables and benches under the cover of looming firs in the small city park. Such an innocuous backdrop for what promised to be tense negotiations between warring fronts. The Draconians were all present already, waiting in a half circle for the others to approach. Merle nodded at Rhun, and her darling demon fell back to take position under a nearby tree, watching the meeting from there.

A few humans mingled in the park, but kept conspicuously clear of the meeting area—likely held at bay by repellent wards so they couldn’t overhear what wasn’t meant for their ears.

Juneau’s white hair gleamed in the sun as she raised her chin, watched the Aequitas draw closer. Around Merle, the rising power of the Elders on her side filled the air, the witches preparing for defense. Should one of the Draconians make a move, they’d be ready.

“Welcome,” Juneau called out. “Before we start, let us swear to keep the peace for this meeting.”

Nodding all around.

“We vow,” Juneau continued, “not to use magic or other weapons to harm another witch for the duration of this meeting. By staying within the lines of these wards”—she indicated the shimmering perimeter—“we all agree to be bound by this promise.”

Again, all witches present nodded their consent, some saying, “Aye.”

“Good,” Elaine spoke up. “Let’s get started then.”

Juneau sent her a cold glance. “I called this meeting in a heartfelt effort to reunite what should never have been broken. Our community depends on the strength of our union to survive. We cannot afford to remain splintered in the face of our enemies.”

Merle’s heart beat faster with foolish hope. Maybe, just maybe, Juneau had come to her senses and let go of her irrational bigotry…

“We agree,” Hanna chimed in. The head of the Roth family stood next to Merle, arms crossed, tight brown curls pulled back into a thick ponytail. “It’s time we settled this. Amicably.”

Murmured assent in the ranks of both parties.

Juneau smiled, though her expression lacked any warmth. “I am happy to see reason returned to those of you who broke away.”

Merle gritted her teeth to bite back her tart retort to that underhanded accusation. As if the witches of the Aequitas were errant children who ran away from home on a misguided impulse. Elaine seemed about ready to lunge at Juneau for that comment alone, judging from the way Kristen, head of the Frost family, had to soothingly hold her back with a hand on her arm.

“I think it only reasonable then,” Juneau went on, “that you will meet our conditions for mending the rift within our midst.”

Merle’s spine locked. “Conditions?”

The glint in Juneau’s deep green eyes was merciless. “There are laws to be upheld, dear. You will surrender Lily Murray for the assault on my granddaughter Selene, as is right for the initial transgression she committed. Further, you will also hand over Basil Murray for the murder of Elder Catarina Gutierrez, as well as the demon mate of Lily, for the murder of Elder Birgit Meyer.”

Merle’s blood froze.

“Since it is not clear,” Juneau kept talking over Merle’s shock, “whether it was Merle MacKenna or Hazel Murray who killed Elder Eva Baldwin, we shall conduct an interrogation to find out which of you cast the killing spell, and bring the one responsible to justice.”

Gehenna. She was talking about the Battle of Gehenna, that violent, bloody altercation they had weeks ago, named after the demon bar near where it took place. Juneau, with the backup of four other Elder witches, jumped Merle, Hazel, Basil, and Rhun as they were following the trace of Lily’s kidnapping at the hands of the demons who had turned her.

“We were defending ourselves,” Merle gritted out, barely able to speak past the thundering of her heart, the outraged shaking in her limbs. “How dare you throw that back at us when you were the one who drew first blood?”

The coldness in Juneau’s gaze could have iced over the air. “I did no such thing.”

Merle let out a dry laugh. “Oh, really? May I remind you that you viciously attacked my husband Rhun in front of me?”

After which all hell had broken loose, both Basil and Hazel firing back at Juneau while Merle tended to Rhun, Alek joining the fight later, the snowball of aggression rolling up into an avalanche of violence with lethal consequences for Juneau’s side. The three witches died as a direct result of Juneau’s initial strike against Rhun.

“He is a demon,” Juneau hissed, “and we are not obliged to protect him, not even through that supposed loophole you used. Marriage to an Elder witch might ward humans against aggression by other witches, but that law does not apply to demons.”

“That is a lie.” Merle took a step forward. “I read the law. It doesn’t exclude demons.”

“It does not mention them,” Juneau shot back, “because it is implicit that they are the enemy, and therefore do not fall under our protection.”

Merle balled her hands to fists. “That is your interpretation.”

“It is the underlying logic of all our laws.” Juneau’s features hardened. “And speaking of which… The fact that you should be brought to justice if it was your spell that killed Eva notwithstanding, if you want peace for our community, you will annul your marriage to that demon and break the mating bond, as will the young chaya darshini of the Gupta family.”

Shobha Gupta came to attention. Her gray-streaked dark hair pulled into a chignon, she angled her head, her shrewd eyes narrowing. “I beg your pardon?”

Juneau faced the other Elder. “Your granddaughter’s aberrant relationship with a demon should never have been permitted. It is against our nature, against everything we ever stood for as a community. We cannot condone fraternization between witches and demons any longer. Our community will remain divided unless we eliminate this dangerous sickness before it spreads even further.”

“That aberrant relationship,” Shobha said with lethal quiet, “saved my Anjali’s life. I might have agreed with you not too long ago, but it was before I saw with my own eyes how someone I considered my enemy all my life makes my granddaughter happier than she has ever been. I will not order her to leave him. He is part of our family.”

It might have taken Shobha months to grudgingly accept Thorne into her folds, from what Merle had heard, but once she took someone in, she did so for life. The Guptas were notorious for their family loyalty.

“And I will never give up Rhun,” Merle said, shaking so hard her teeth clattered.

A muscle ticked in Juneau’s jaw. “Then there is no ground for peace.”

Heavy silence fell after those words. The air stood still, thick with gathering magic.

Merle took a slow step back, her eyes fixed on Juneau, her stomach a tight knot. “You swore not to harm us here.”

The other Elders of the Aequitas closed ranks around her, muscles tensed.

Juneau’s smile was serpentine. “I swore not to harm another witch.”

Merle’s heart stopped cold. Her breath stuck in her lungs, she whirled around, toward the spot several yards away where Rhun stood—had been standing.

He convulsed on the ground, spittle frothing around his mouth, face pale. Three witches rushed toward him from their hiding places in the park—which was wiped clear of humans now, an eerie quiet settling.

Merle’s stomach lurched. “Rhun!”

She ran toward him, only to collide with an invisible wall right at the line of the wards. A barrier. That bitch had snuck a magical barrier into the perimeter of the meeting.

She pivoted to Juneau again, wanted to hurl her power at her, consequences be damned…and found her magic bound by the oath she took. She couldn’t harm Juneau. Not in here. And she couldn’t go outside the circle either.

The other Elders of the Aequitas strained against the peace vow as well, exertion hardening their faces.

“Stop this!” Merle yelled. “Let him go!”

At least it looked like the Draconians were indeed bound by the same oath—they had yet to attack the Aequitas.

“You cannot fight us here,” Juneau said, much too calm for the uproar around her. “And I don’t want you to. I want you to consider the consequences of your refusal to uphold our laws. We will leave here, and so will you, and you will take some time to rethink your irrational behavior. When you have come to your senses, we will be ready to accept your surrender to justice.”

She nodded at the three witches holding Rhun. He had gone limp, his skin coated with sweat, and they had tied him up with what looked like magical shackles.

“Meanwhile,” Juneau added, “we will take that obnoxious demon husband of yours. As an incentive, as a warning.” She tilted her head, raised her brows. “Agree to our terms promptly, and we might let him go. You will still need to divorce him, of course. But the longer you take to surrender to our laws, the more he will suffer.”

Merle didn’t weep as they dragged Rhun away. She didn’t sob, didn’t crumple at the raging pain inside her. No. Her blood burning in her veins with the power of her line, she turned to Juneau, spit in her face and yelled, “I will rain hellfire on you!”