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Authors: Lauren Dane

BOOK: Going Under
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Chapter 4

MOLLY
had gotten off the plane, headed to the hotel and channel surfed for three hours before
finally getting herself relaxed enough to get to sleep. Things were so . . . she didn’t
know how to describe it. Anxious maybe. She wanted to get started on something. Hated
not doing anything.

Still, when she woke up and her breakfast showed up, she began to focus and get ready.
Having a purpose was something she found soothing. Doing her hair and makeup, getting
dressed—it had felt as if she was putting on armor.

The walk from the hotel was as quick as the instructions she’d looked up online had
said. Seattle’s downtown core made sense. Molly liked it. Loved all the little coffee
shops and bakeries. Loved the hustle and bustle of commuters as they landed and began
to stream toward office buildings.

There was a protest and a counter-protest outside the Federal Building. But plenty
of police presence kept it out of riot territory. At least during the time she’d walked
past. A lot of angry faces and hateful signs, as she’d seen elsewhere. That part made
her sad. But it hadn’t made her fearful. And the counter-protest had been sizable.
Larger than the anti-Other protest. That had cheered her.

The air was clean and her magick lay in her belly, so easily called. Not something
she’d experienced in the middle of a city before. Maybe it was about the ground here
being held by a clan so long. She didn’t know. Didn’t know a lot of things about this
part of her identity.

That put her off balance a little. She liked being in control. Knowledge meant control.
But at the same time, she found herself eager to learn.

The building the Owen offices were in had heightened security around it. Molly hadn’t
expected that. But she supposed, once they became known, they’d be a target. It also
indicated that Owen had plenty of money to do that. She hoped that was a sign of stability.

She could feel the wards. Something she’d never actually experienced before. But they
seemed to recognize her magick. She’d ponder that later when she had the time to do
so.

She walked through two separate security checkpoints. One with a metal detector. Her
bag had been searched and before they let her in the building they called up and made
sure she truly did have an appointment. She’d also been told that there were spells
cast to dampen the ability of other witches to use their magick while on Owen property.
The guard had said it by rote, not asking if she was a witch or not.

The one who searched her last had her wait while he called yet another to escort her
inside. Her escort was armed and no-nonsense and used a key to get them up to the
clan’s reception floor, leaving her at check in.

“Ms. Ryan, someone should be with you shortly. Can I get you something to drink while
you wait?” The receptionist smiled her way. It was a business smile. A little wary
at the edges. Remote.

“I had a latte already. I’m afraid if I drink any more coffee I’ll start bouncing
off the walls.” Molly smiled, genuine and warm.

The receptionist relaxed, as Molly had intended. “I hear you. Meriel loves her coffee
extra strong, so you probably would get a big jolt.”

“Always a plus in a job interview.” She looked out the wall of windows, over the city,
and wondered if she’d be living there when this interview was over.

* * *

BY
the time Meriel’s assistant came to collect her, Molly had made a friend in the receptionist,
Kelly. Kelly had given her a few tips. Nothing that would be considered oversharing,
but it was helpful all the same.

The assistant pushed a door open after tapping on it. Everyone inside the room stood.

The power there stirred her own, calling to her magick. Molly put a hand on her belly
a moment before stepping in totally.

“Please, Molly, do come in.” A red-haired witch, no doubt Meriel Owen, moved in her
direction, holding a hand out. Molly took it, liking the strong, efficient shake.

“Thank you. I’m Molly Ryan. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Meriel Owen, and the pleasure is ours.” She indicated the others in the room. “This
is Dominic Bright. He’s my husband and my bond-mate.” A bond-mate was what Full Council
witches had. Their sort of magickal other half and the person whose magick unlocked
their full potential.

There were other introductions but Molly really sort of forgot them once Meriel pointed
out the blond male with the wide shoulders and the wary gaze.

“Gage Garrity. He and Lark run the Hunter team together.”

When he turned to focus on her, Molly’s knees went a little weak. For long moments
she was surprised at herself. She didn’t get weak-kneed over most anything and certainly
not a man.

But as men went, the one looking her over with nearly amber eyes was a fine, fine
specimen. Broad-shouldered. His shirt stretched over his upper body, only highlighting
the power that lay beneath. She was sure he’d have a narrow waist and flat belly.
She didn’t need to see him standing to know that. She also bet he had a nice butt.

Still, he probably called women
babe
and peed on the seat.

Meriel clearly wielded the power in the room, but she did it well. She leaned toward
Molly, her fingers clasped loosely on the table. “So we’ve checked you out and know
your background and experience. I’m not exaggerating to say we’re all very impressed.
But our number one question is why? You didn’t really do your work for Others in the
past. Why now?”

Molly looked around the table, meeting eyes with each and every witch there. It was
a fair question and she wanted them to know what had changed for her. “I was raised
in a human home. I didn’t even know I was a witch until I was thirteen. In middle
school one of my teachers, Rosa Falco, noticed and spoke to me after class. When she
realized I had no idea what she was talking about, she met with my mother.”

Molly held back a shrug and continued. “She and my mother came to an agreement. In
the end, the Falcos became my second family. Rosa taught me how to use and control
my magick. I spent many weekends at their home, went camping with them, learned how
to embrace the other side of myself.”

“But you never belonged to the coven there?” Dominic Bright wasn’t accusatory in this,
but it was clear he wanted to know why.

“No, I didn’t. The Falcos did—do. I went to some coven events. I finished high school,
then college and then I started working for a PR firm. I worked eighty hours a week.
My leftover time was for sleeping and eating. I didn’t feel it was necessary to join
the coven. I’m a witch. I’m not ashamed of it. Neither did I feel like I had to wear
it on my shirt like a button. It was a part of me, but it wasn’t my banner.”

Dominic nodded and she got the feeling her answer was what he was looking for.

“So why now then?”

“I got a call in the middle of the night. It was Rosa telling me her husband, the
man I thought of as my father, had simply disappeared. And Emma, her oldest daughter
and my sister, had also disappeared. It was some sort of creature or being and it
had taken them. Over those first days we knew of others who’d been taken. So many.

“And then the backlash began. I’m trying to help Rosa and her son get through this
and suddenly these bigots are showing up at my mother’s office. My biological mother,
I mean. She’s a professor, though I expect you know that. Anyway, they know about
me and they want
her
to resign. She kicked them out. But it was the beginning. They showed up at my office
too. They knew about me. They’d dug around and because I’d never really hidden it,
they had pictures of me at events with the Falcos and other witches. They threatened
me with it. I assured them they didn’t know me at all.”

“You figured they’d leave you alone?” Gage’s tone told her what he thought of that
reaction.

“I figured they were attempting to blackmail me. I don’t give in to terrorist threats.
I don’t give in to blackmail. I’m a witch; I never tried to hide it and I wasn’t going
to. My mistake was in believing my clients, people I’d worked with for years and years
and had saved multiple times, would stand behind me. I believed the other partners
in the firm I’d created would back me up. I made the money, after all. These clients
were mine.”

Gage watched her as the change came over her features. Just a brief glimpse. Pain.
So much for them all. “And you were wrong.”

She nodded. “I was wrong. I was outed on PURITY’s
Know Your Enemy
show. They have a show now.” She shook her head. “My clients all began to give in
to the pressure and leave. And then they began to go around me to the other partners.”

Molly sat back, her back straight, her gaze clear. “As I sat there, the people I’d
helped support, some of them my friends, wanted me to slink away in shame because
of what I was—well, I realized it was time to push back. And then I was at my mother’s
house and I saw Powers on television and my mom said something like how Others needed
a good PR campaign and I realized yes, yes, we did.”

Meriel nodded. “And we do.”

Molly spoke again. “You do a fine job, first let me say that. As I said on the phone
with you, you’re smart and well spoken and you clearly know what you’re talking about.”

Meriel’s smile widened. “Thank you. But I know my niche. I know what I’m good at.
Before this mess I’d have been fine. But with the fever pitch now, well, we need a
professional to get the message out there.”

“It’s a full-time job and you have far more things to do than just dealing with media.
The biggest task will be to keep your message on target. There will be all sorts of
side tangents to get sucked into. It’s human nature. And before you know it, your
three to five minutes are up and you didn’t make your point.”

Meriel nodded, frowning. “Yes. Frustrating.”

“Media people know how to do this. They do it every day. Most of the time to keep
people on task, but as you saw with the reporter interviewing you, sometimes they
do it to knock you off message because they have an agenda. It takes someone who knows
how to avoid those traps to get a message out.”

“And you think you can do a better job? Even though you grew up as a human and didn’t
have much to do with our world?” One of the other members of the Full Council, Sami
Ellis, asked. It was clear the woman had her doubts about Molly. Sami could be very
intimidating so he supposed they’d see just what Molly Ryan was made of. “What makes
you think an interloper can tell our story better than we can?”

Gage was impressed by the way Molly simply turned that perceptive gaze toward Sami.
The question was rude; he caught sight of Meriel bristling. But Molly kept her cool
and he added a few more points to his estimation of her.

“Interloper? That’s an interesting phrase. You mean because my father walked out and
never bothered to tell the person he was sleeping with that he was a witch? Is that
my fault too? You’ll have to excuse my sore spot on this point, but I’m trying to
do what’s right. Not only for me, but for my people. If your clan is just PURITY with
a different face, I’ll just take my services elsewhere. Because I have no need to
prove my racial purity to anyone. I have lived in the human world. My mother and grandparents
are human. I am not ashamed of that. Nor would I ever allow anyone to make me feel
that way.”

Gage caught Dom’s eyebrow as it rose for a brief instant and then settled back into
place. He smiled then.

“I can’t guarantee this will be easy. It hasn’t been for any of us. But I can guarantee
one thing and that is we won’t be engaging in any sort of purity tests. I grew up
outside a clan too.” Dominic looked toward Sami before he cast his gaze back to Molly.
“And now I run one. You’re a witch and you’re offering your services, which we
all
know are highly desirable and effective. We’d like to offer you a position here.”

“Not just as the head of our public relations campaign, but as a member of Clan Owen,”
Meriel added. “We’ve checked you out. You’re everything you claim and more. We need
you on our side.”

Molly kept her gaze on Sami, which Gage found himself fascinated by. This was a full-council
witch. Most people would have left it alone. But Molly Ryan was clearly
not
most people.

“Before I give my answer I’d like to hear from Ms. Ellis. I didn’t grow up in a coven.
If this is going to be an issue, I’d prefer it to be said outright and openly. I’m
afraid that while I use subtlety in my job all the time, I’m not much for using it
with my employer.”

Meriel’s gaze shot to Sami, who sat back, clearly surprised by Molly. It made Gage
like Molly even more.

Sami’s tone was slightly defensive. “If I have reservations, it’s my duty to speak
them.”

Molly’s posture remained confident. “And that’s what I’d expect. I’d simply prefer
it be laid out openly. I came here for a job interview. I expect you all to look into
my background and to want to know who I am and why I want this job. That’s part of
the territory. But I’m trying to fight against this sort of contest to see who is
more pure and if it’s going to be an issue that I didn’t grow up in the magickal community,
it’s best that I know now. Because my answer would be different than it would be if
it’s not an issue.”

“You’d turn down a job because of that? Because of me being worried about how you’d
adjust in a clan system after never having been in one? Doesn’t that suggest you’re
not the right person for this high stress of a position?”

“What an interesting interpretation. No. I’d appreciate having a discussion on the
differences between the non-magickal world and the inner workings of a clan. And I’d
certainly understand your wanting to know how I’ll deal with it. Which is of course
an entirely different tack than the one you took earlier.” Molly leaned in and Gage
felt the wave of her charisma. “I have a lot to learn about clan governance and I’d
consider that part of my job to get up to speed. But I’m not a second-class human
or a second-class witch because my human mother raised me on her own outside a clan.
Nor will I tolerate any inferences of the sort.”

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