The other man stared at him, eyes wide. “What kind of a secret? Is she cheating on me? Spending—”

“No, nothing like that. Like, maybe she was in a secret society in college or something.”

Or a cult.

“First off, that woman couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. But if she was up in Skull and Bones or whatever, I’d likely let it be. There’s a reason she didn’t tell me.”

That made total sense, so Trev raised his beer mug. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Was that advice? You think Leanne’s in something like that?”

Trev shrugged. “You just told me not to worry about it. I know for sure she’s in a book club, and that’s enough for me. By the way, mind if I come home with you tonight?”

Dante laughed. “Sir, you better pay for this meal first.”

Chapter 22

Leanne hardly let the door close behind her husband before she fired off an emergency alert to the coven group chat.

Since everyone should be on their way over anyway, it ought to expedite the arrivals. Vanessa must’ve broken land-speed records because she showed up five minutes later, well ahead of the rest of the witches. She surveyed Leanne from head to toe with a puzzled look.

“You seem fine. What’s the problem?”

Quickly, she summarized what’d happened after the election and what Gladys suspected that Trev had overheard, though she didn’t reveal her nomination to the witch council. Stunned, the other witch dropped heavily onto the sofa, eyes wide. “That is trouble with a capital T. You’re sure he—”

“No,” Leanne cut in.

But she glanced around the apartment with a telling look. If Ethel could spy on others, a good diviner could be listening right now. Grimly determined, Vanessa pulled her supplies out of her bag, and Leanne set up her own, and they joined hands to create a quick but protective shielding spell. That should block unwanted eyes and ears for the time being, but it was a stopgap, not a solution.

She tried to stay calm but bounded to her feet, pacing anxiously. “It’s not supposed to be like this. I ought to be gloating right now. Or, at the very least, subtweeting Dan Rutherford.”

“There’s no point,” Vanessa said. “He doesn’t manage his own accounts, and even if he did look, he’s not sharp enough to realize you’re referring to him.”

“A valid point.”

“Let’s get back to your problem. The council might turn your man into a squirrel!”

That was a joke, but not a funny one. “Thanks for the reminder. I wasn’t nearly stressed enough.” She sighed and sat across from Vanessa. “For now, they have no proof, just a suspicion. I’ve done everything but tell Trev to deny everything and stay cool, but—”