Witches of Barcelona: A Dark, Funny & Sexy Urban Paranormal Romance Series (Blood Web Chronicles Caedis Knight (drm ebook reader TXT) 📖

She’s right.

“I have to go talk to my dad,” she adds with a shaky breath. “Then I’m getting the hell out of here and seeing Xavi.”

She kisses me on the cheek and scuttles off.

My own love life isn’t much to celebrate, granted, but at least I can be thankful I’ve never had to bring any of my past partners to an event like this one.

Witches do not honor Wolves. My mother’s words still itch at the back of my mind. What is it with MA Witches and their deep hatred for all Paranormals that aren’t their own? It’s insidious.

The Winter Prince’s words flow into my mind next. The Fae are not the only Paranormals who had problems with the last First. She broke many treaties and had many enemies.

Maybe I could ask Jackson to hack Maribel’s Blood Web account. Although it’s unlikely the MA would keep their documents online; Witches are so archaic they have paper copies of all their important documents.

Wait! If Maribel had any incriminating evidence, she would keep it in her home. This is my only chance to find her office and search through her correspondence.

With a quick glance around the busy room, I slink off towards the stairway.

Chapter Twenty-One

It doesn’t take long to find Maribel’s quarters and then her office, it’s almost as if the whole house leads you there. Her home library and office are the centerpiece of the building, the crown jewel in her mosaic maze.

I quietly close the door behind me, annoyed to see there’s no key in the lock to turn, and breathe in the musty scent of old books and leather furniture.

Dark wooden bookcases line the walls, although in true Gaudí style they are curved and twisted, each old book balanced on shelves that look like wooden vines. The windows are just as wobbly in shape and the wall is inlaid with gold and emerald tiles. With my head tilted up, I spin in a full circle. The ceiling is painted with a fresco depicting the sky at night, reminding me of the magical moon in the Nox’s basement.

There’s no technical equipment on her desk; no laptop or even a landline phone, nothing but aging yellowing paper, an inkwell with some feathered quills, and a couple of animal skulls. Birds, I think. Maybe she was using them as paperweights. I shudder.

Besides the desk is a glass cabinet. Displayed inside is an old book, a little like my Witching Day book but way older, with an assortment of faded spells handwritten in the margin. There are also empty glass vials and bottles, dating back centuries, and in the center a small bowl containing teeth. Not human teeth but canine. I squint at them. They aren’t thin enough to be Vamp fangs, they look like...Wolf’s teeth. Who the fuck has a collection of Werewolf teeth?

I grimace, thinking back to Rachel the not-so-Good and her vial collection of horrors.

Turning back to the desk I pick up one of the sheets of paper and inspect it. It’s blank. I try another and another. All blank. Next to the dusty bookshelf is an old-fashioned filing cabinet with metal handles. It’s locked. Well, this is going well.

I half-heartedly poke about the bookshelf, picking up gemstones and twigs, but there’s nothing here that will help me discover who her murderer is. Complete waste of time. Maybe there’s something in Maribel’s bedroom?

I’m about to head for the door when I hear my mother’s voice outside.

“Salvador!” she giggles.

Giggles?

The door rattles and I clamber under the desk as they fall into the room. Luckily, the desk is so old and cracked I can see them through the joints in the wood. Actually, not so lucky.

“Maribel’s office,” Salvador coos as he pushes my mother against the wall, his mouth all over her neck. “Kinky.”

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.

“Soon to be my office,” she says coldly. “And then my home. When that moment comes, we can christen every room. Until then…”

Who the fuck says ‘christen’?

I fight the vomit rising in my throat and steady my breath as they continue kissing. If I stay any longer, I will become a spectator to my mother’s ‘christening’ and then I will truly be beyond any therapist’s help.

“Why won’t you marry me, mi amor?” Salvador’s voice is throaty. “I can’t wait any longer. I need you to be fully mine.”

My mother sobers, withdrawing from his embrace.

“I need my reputation unsullied. I can’t afford another scandal.”

Salvador pushes the hair out of her face. “I’m fixing it tonight.”

“Still…”

He pinches her chin between his fingers. “Cariño, don’t I fix all of your problems?”

“Exactly which problem are you referring to?”

“Don’t play dumb, reina. It doesn’t suit you,” he keeps kissing her against the door. “Marry me,” he says again.

Her answer is a cool swift “no.”

Salvador swears under his breath as he straightens up and adjusts his suit.

“A good leader trusts their allies, Solina,” he says, before opening the door.

My mother steadies herself, eyes sweeping over the desk where I'm hiding. Terror grips me as I notice I’m casting a light shadow on the ground. I keep as still as I can, and she dismisses it as a trick of the light.

She follows him out of the door, and at the sound of it closing with a light click, I finally breathe out.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“They nearly fucked on my head, Luisa!” I cry as we stumble out of Maribel’s house. “It’s not funny. I’m adding it to my long list of traumas.”

She laughs. “What were you doing in Maribel’s office?”

“I was trying to find the toilet. Wait up, where are we going?”

Rafi catches up with us and passes me a bottle of champagne. I take a swig, laughing as it froths at my lips.

“We’re getting as far away from that madness as possible,” Luisa says, heading to the woods surrounding the house. “I’ve done enough work for one day.”

I want to tell her about my mother’s conversation with Salvador.