Mara

  The crone entered her house with a smile stretched across her withered old face. The second battle had been won. Her personal champion, the witch Rory, had come out ahead after defeating her inner demon. A cackle left her lips and shifted to velveteen peels as her true face returned.

  Rosemary’s champion—her own blood even—failed to distract Mara’s from her mission. Whether the little witch knew that was happening or not. The Ancient’s champion, well, he failed in all the ways he could have. Mara might have had a hand in that downfall but what’s a little deception between old friends? Hadn’t the Ancient sent hers to attack Mara’s before the witch even had a chance to take her place on the chessboard?

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  It didn’t matter in the grand scheme, the ex-vampire was Mara’s pawn now and she still wasn’t done with him. He had another part to play in the plans set in motion centuries ago.

  Rory, along with the other’s Mara had given her, The Fool, The High Priestess, and The Emperor, would soon meet their fate.

  And Death was still nestled inside the deck.