SIX MONTHS LATER...

It was not every day that Máire Taaffe got summoned by the High Priestess. Especially not an old crone like her. She had long been neglected by the seer witch, and she rather liked it. She preferred feeding the birds in the park or whatever people her age did until they died. But one could not ignore the High Priestess's invitation. Máire had no idea why the High Priestess wanted to speak with her, all she knew was she had the displeasure of being rudely disturbed at seven in the morning by a warlock named, James Drury, also known as Helene's little lover.

Regardless of being the High Priestess' lover, Máire greeted him with a wooden spoon.

Drury raised a brow at the wooden spoon in her hand. "Your best weapon is your magic, not a cooking utensil," he informed her like she was a child.

She narrowed her gaze, "Not everything needs magic. Most problems can be solved with a good beating." She tapped the spoon on the side of her hand as she eyed him up and down.

"Have you ever fought anyone, James?" The warlock clenched his jaw.

"Magic is enough to hurt someone," he answered.

Máire nodded. "I always knew you lacked confidence."

Drury's face went red then inhaled sharply, and exhaled twice before he spoke again. "I'm not here to argue with a senile witch." she smiled. "I've come by the High Priestess' orders. She invites you to her home. She has a matter she wishes to discuss with you. She'll see you at noon." Drury finished as he handed her a small card with the High Priestess' home address.

It was now Máire's turn to raise her brow. "Will the rest of the High Council be there?" The lines near his forehead tightened. Máire slightly gripped her wooden spoon until he forced a smile, and vaguely answered. "Enjoy the rest of your morning, Ms. Taaffe. The High Priestess will await your presence." Drury then simply turned away and went down the stairs of her building, disappearing out of her sight.

That had been five hours ago.

Máire was currently sitting in the most luxurious living room. Tall white ceilings and cream sofas with golden decorative frames and marbled flooring. Above her hung a large crystal chandelier. There were a few glass bookcases with magical objects trapped inside, but Máire doubted they were useful. The real magic must be hidden elsewhere, somewhere in this glamorous house.

Despite being surrounded by such lavishes, she was growing tired of sitting in the living room.

It had been twenty minutes since she had arrived and left waiting for the High Priestess. Did this stupid girl think she didn't have anything important to do? She didn't but she would've liked to be anywhere else than the High Priestess' home. The white walls were too bright like they had been freshly painted just this morning. Perhaps, blood now stained the walls. Still, Máire couldn't have rejected the High Priestess' invitation or else she might have jeopardized her life.

She considered it for a moment.

"I do apologize for the wait, Ms.Taaffe," the High Priestess suddenly walked in, and Máire took her time standing up. "There were some matters that needed my guidance. I hope you understand." She slightly bent her neck. She had bent her neck and knees before, many times. To queens, kings, princes, princesses, and now even a High Priestess.

But ask her where they were and she would happily tell you.

She lifted her gaze and met The High Priestess' single gray eye. She carefully glanced at the other—armored in a bejeweled eye patch of sapphires and topaz and accessorized with golden chain links. Many believed she lost her eye due to her prophetic abilities. She saw a new world for them, she told them, and she lost it because the gods didn't want her to see it. She had lost it for us, for our new world. It was all horseshit. Máire was one of the few who knew the truth about her missing eye. She knew it all.

"Of course, I understand," she said as the High Priestess moved to sit opposite of her. She crossed her legs, slightly kicking her champagne dress and revealing her heels. Her light blonder hair was pulled into an updo, bringing out her smooth porcelain skin and red lips. She was a beautiful witch, Máire could admit to that.

She sat down.

"Right." Helene smiled. "Well, I hope you weren't too surprised by James' visit. I've been meaning to speak with you for a while now." She nodded aimlessly. As if the High Priestess wanted to waste time with a witch like her.

She replied, causally. "I'm not usually awake by that hour but I managed just fine. Your house is too quiet. Where are your children?" She found it strange she hadn't seen Clarissa or Evander Worth. She knew Helene liked to keep a close eye on her children, as they were oftentimes getting themselves in trouble or more likely getting others in trouble. Children, what a headache. Máire was glad she didn't have any.

Helene adjusted her bejeweled eye patch. "They're on vacation." Now, Máire was intrigued. She leaned back into the sofa. "Oh. For how long?" Helene cleared her throat and neatly folded her hands. "Ms. Taaffe, I invited you to my house not for small talk, and I know you don't like my children—"

"I don't like anyone's children." she muttered.

The High Priestess ignored her question and comment. "But I have news I would like to share with you." Máire hoped it was good enough to be awakened at seven in the morning. "Nicolás Del Luna is dead." she finally said, and then with one eye, she assessed Máire's reaction.

Her body tensed and then she quickly swallowed her shocked and schooled her features. "Congratulations, High Priestess." she forced out the words. "You've been waiting for this day since Nicolás killed your husband." Helene didn't pay attention to her words but stared at her as if she could detect the lies in her face.

Still, Máire couldn't believe her words. Nicolás Del Luna was finally dead.

Her heart silently mourned his loss.

She hadn't thought about him in a very long time. She was once his friend—to him, and his wife, Caitlin McGrath. She couldn't think about one without the other. Her chest tightened. After Máire heard the death of the Del Luna family, she distanced herself completely from Caitlin. It pained her to do it, but survival is sometimes the only way one can live. She thought about what that entire family suffered, and what Caitlin endured. It was beyond grief, beyond revenge. And Máireremained a coward through it all.

At the very least she could enjoy Helene's missing eye for Caitlin.

Helene spoke again. "But that's not why I asked you to come. There is something else." she paused. "The daughter is alive."

Máire brows furrowed. "Who?"

The High Priestess leaned forward as her knuckles whitened. "Their daughter is alive." she repeated, gritting the words through her teeth. Máire's body stilled as she waited for the High Priestess to start laughing, but the longer the room remained quiet followed by the seriousness of Helene's face, Máire drew a sharp breath.

Gods be damned.

Her gaze hardened on the seer witch. "Are you telling me the daughter of Caitlin and Nicolás is alive? And how would that be possible, Helene? The baby died on Caitlin's journey back to Mexico. Their daughter never left her mother's womb. The witch you sent after them confirmed it for you." she argued.

She did not care if she had raised her voice against the High Priestess, she did not care about her life at this moment. Máire would not let Helene speak about the dead child she murdered. The baby was an innocent life that paid the price of vengeance, political lies, and a horseshit dream. Except, the baby was not the only one to suffer. So many innocent witches and warlocks have been lost throughout the years. Old and young. Missing and dead. And all because of this seer witch and her fucking missing eye.

She had enough of the High Priestess antics. As Máire started to get up, the High Priestess stood up and walked over to one of the glass bookcases and pulled out a large yellow envelope wedged in between the books. "I also couldn't believe it myself at first but she is real." she said as she strode over to her and dropped the envelope into her lap.

Máire gritted her teeth and yet the yellow envelope stared back at her with great temptation. It would be foolish of her to open it and give in to Helene's game but what if...what if she wasn't lying. She placed her finger on the corner and dragged it through as she opened it.

The High Priestess indulged her more. "A few months ago, I received a package, and inside of it was the head of Lucas Wixen." Máire briefly met her gaze but she went on. "I thought it had been Nicolás who had sent it but I had already been told Nicolás was dead so he couldn't have sent it. I thought it might've been the hunters. But I found the head in an odd position." she murmured.

Máire slowly pulled out an enlarged photo in black and white. She suppressed a gasp. It was a young girl in her early twenties, thin brows with dull and sunken eyes so cold, Máire shivered. On her right cheekbone, she was marked with three dots that formed a triangle just like her father, but she had this crooked smile and that was all her mother. "She stuffed a cock into his mouth," Helene distastefully said, but it only confirmed she was indeed Caitlin's daughter.

Máire traced the shape of her eyes. "What's her name?" she whispered.

The seer made another displeased noise. "They never bothered to change her name. Her name is the same, Nora Del Luna. But they did remove the letter "L" in her paperwork. It's a nice little trick. I suppose Caitlin came up with that one." she said, irritated like a young schoolgirl. "Even from the dead she still mocks me," she grumbled.

Máire held her composure for a little longer. She still had one more question for the High Priestess. "Why are you telling me this? What do you want from me?" Perhaps, it was two.

At this, Helene locked her gaze with hers and smiled. Máire held Nora's photo tightly as if the girl was there with her. "I want you to help me kill her," she sounded desperate. "You know she isn't just a witch. She is also her mother's daughter. She is a one-of-a-kind faerie. Maybe something a little more. We know nothing about her, but what she has done. She has killed so many of our witches and warlocks. No matter how many I send, she keeps killing them. She is worse than her father. Worse than her mother."

Helene paused then leaned her forward. "But we can fight her dark magic except for whatever else lives inside of her, we are hopeless against it. But you, Máire Taaffe, you've faced faeries. You've fought them. Your family knew how to kill them." Her gray eye sparkled against the sapphire with greed.

Máire decided then and there she would not be a coward anymore.

She stood up, abruptly. "Faeries and witches have been at war since the creation of magic." Helene raised her brows. She spoke coolly, "My family is done contributing to that war. We no longer meddle." She didn't know Helene found out about her family's history, but it was true.

The Taaffe family had been the ones to create the faeries' weakness—iron.

"It's been a pleasure seeing you, High Priestess. Thank you for the news." And she started marching her way out until Helene Worth spoke again. "She is growing an army." Máire halted her steps and looked back at her, she was standing now. "She has a witch named Dilara Arslan, and she isn't ordinary either. She comes from a line of descendants of generals who served sultans, sultanas, and caliphs. She is coming and we need to stop her, Máire, or else we will never see our world be born." she urged.

Máire took three steps towards her, folding the picture like a napkin and slid it into the pocket of her coat. Helene straightened her posture and lifted her chin. "And you're the High Priestess. You have the gift to look into the future." she stared into her single eye, deeply. "What? Are you not able to see how to stop her?" Helene's nostrils flared and Máireclosed her eyes as she felt a surge of power puncture her lungs.

"How dare you?" Helene seethed as Máire's body was bent over trying to squeeze out a breath but the seer witch's magic strengthened and tightened around her neck. Máire could probably hold out a little longer before she lost consciousness, but today was not the day for defiance. She dramatically fell to her knees and waved her hands in a surrendering motion until Helene had enough.

Máire coughed violently. "I only—only meant that you should rely on your gifts, Priestess." she said, hoarsely. "You have—have nothing to fear. You know better than anyone else this child is just another challenge before we see our world born. You're almost there, High Priestess. You're almost at the end of your vision." Helene narrowed her eye on her.

She coughed some more, for good measure and looked down at the white tiles.

Helene then spoke. "I think it's time for you to go. I hope the next time we meet you'll bring the iron your family used to make." Máire slowly started to get up from the ground as she heard those heels click away. There was no doubt in the old witch's mind if she didn't bring Helene her iron, she would kill Máire.

Before Helene completely left the room, she looked back at her. "Oh, and Máire, I'm not afraid of her." she then promised. "I'm going to kill her. Just like I did with her mother." The old witch lowered her gaze once more as a slow, steady smile curved her mouth.

As the echo of the High Priestess's heels drew further away, she firmly believed Helene Worth was afraid. Perhaps, there would finally be an end to this vengeful tale. Máire left the High Priestess' home with a grin and decided to take a stroll in a nearby park. She knew there was only one thing left she needed to do. She released a low whistle despite the pain in her throat.

A raven came down from the gray skies and perched itself on a leafless tree. The black bird slanted its head, waiting.

Máire drew herself closer. "Tell them, The Wailing Woman has been reborn again." The raven cawed and took flight, disappearing into the gray clouds. The winds blew harder as they whistled the tune of death.

Chicago's winter would be brutal this year.