The witch's sneer faded, replaced by a twisted grin that sent a chill down Zane's spine. Her dark eyes gleamed with an unnatural hunger as she looked at Maeve, or more accurately, at Maeve's stomach. Maeve instinctively placed a protective hand over her belly, her entire body stiffening as the witch's gaze bore into her. There was something deeply wrong in that look, something that made Maeve feel like she was being dissected by the witch's gaze alone.
Maeve glanced toward her father, hoping for some reassurance, but Joe's face was a mask of stoic indifference. He had recommended the witch, bringing her in based on an old connection Maeve's mother had to the woman. Maeve had believed, however reluctantly, that the witch could be bought or swayed, that she could manipulate the situation if needed. But now, standing in the same room as this ancient creature, Maeve realized just how naive that hope had been.
