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“You cannot allow a witch into father’s bedchamber,” she spits, making the word “witch” sound like a vile curse.
I can sense Steph bristling beside me, and I reach out to take her hand in mine, giving it a warning squeeze. Steph may be a badass in her own right, but she doesn’t have access to her powers and Jasmine would gleefully rip her to shreds.
Bernadette holds her tongue, but stiffens her spine, refusing to back down from the threat. Jasmine may be a vampire, but I’m sure Aunt Bernie can incapacitate her with a few whispered words. Maybe. Hell, I don’t know who would be the victor in such a standoff, and right now, I don’t care to find out.
“Bernadette is going to examine father to determine what ails him and whether or not she can reverse it. You do want him to recover, do you not?” Jesse asks, and the challenge is clear in his voice.
“Of course, I do,” Jasmine huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and looking like a sullen teenager. “How do you know she won’t just finish him off before you can stop her?”
My brow wrinkles, my head tilting to the side slightly as I study her. Jesse explained to me all the ways to kill a vampire. And as Bernadette is obviously not holding a stake or a machete to remove Franklin’s head, and Jesse will be there to stop her if she somehow manifested one from thin air, I don’t know what’s responsible for the fear in the blonde vampire’s eyes.
But it is there, that fear. I can see it shining from the emerald depths and feel it radiating from her stiff posture. What is she afraid of?
She meets Jesse’s gaze, and they engage in some kind of silent battle of wills before Jasmine visibly backs down. Heaving a petulant sigh, she uncrosses her arms and steps to the side, allowing us to pass by. I swiftly move to Steph’s opposite side so I’m between her and Jasmine as we pass, and the move makes the young vampire smirk with dark humor. She snaps her teeth together in my direction, and I lift a hand to shoot her a middle finger on pure instinct. She rolls her eyes and heads in the opposite direction toward the staircase.
My nervous tension spikes again as we approach Franklin’s door. This is it. In a few moments, we’ll know if Bernadette can heal him with her magic. And if she can’t…
The room is dark as we enter, and Bernadette instructs Jesse to open the curtains and, if possible, the windows. Sunlight and fresh air, as natural elements, clear her mind and strengthen her magic. Jesse does as he’s asked, and Steph and I stand back as her aunt approaches the pale, motionless king.
Jesse moves in on my other side as Bernadette holds her palms over the king’s face, leaving only a few inches between his skin and hers. Her eyes fall closed as she moves her hands down to hover over his chest, then his stomach, before moving back in the other direction. She’s murmuring something under her breath, the foreign words growing louder as the seconds pass.
Her eyes pop open as she gasps, then spins to face the rest of us with a worried expression.
“A witch did this,” she says, her voice solemn, “but the spell wasn’t cast directly on the king.”
“What do you mean?” Jesse asks when she pauses to take a few deep breaths.
“His food was tainted,” she explains slowly. “He ingested blood imbued with dark magic.”
“So, he was poisoned?” I ask.
“Impossible,” Jesse cuts in darkly before she can respond to my question. “My father has a…special relationship with the humans who feed him. They live here in the manor, service only him, and never leave the premises.”
“Like concubines?” Steph asks with wide eyes, and I nudge her in the side with my elbow. She looks at me and says, “What? That’s what he just described, isn’t it? Don’t try to tell me you weren’t thinking it.”
“They are not imprisoned here,” Jesse says, his voice filled with patience. “They choose to be here and serve my father. The rewards are a bit…irresistible.”
His dark eyes land on me as he says that last bit, and my cheeks heat as my stomach flip-flops. Steph bumps her shoulder against mine and arches a brow at me, but I shake off the unspoken question. Then her eyes widen, and I know she’s remembering what I told her that day at the coffee shop about a vampire’s bite and how it affects a girl. Before she can make what I’m sure will be an embarrassing comment, Bernadette responds to Jesse’s statement.
“I’m aware of the king’s safety measures when it comes to his food source. And I’m sure you’re aware of what this means.”
She directs the statement to Jesse with a firm nod, and his expression darkens. I’ve never seen him look so angry, and I find myself torn between reaching out to soothe him and taking a step back for safety’s sake. As if he senses my trickling of fear, he takes my hand and squeezes it gently.
“It means we’ve been betrayed.”
“What?” I ask, confusion replacing my fear.
Jesse turns his head to look into my eyes. “If what Bernadette says is true, and I have no reason to doubt her word, someone in the manor helped a witch gain access to my father’s feeders. There is a traitor in our midst.”
Silence deafens me as I absorb his words. A vampire is helping the witches? But…why? What could a vampire possibly gain by helping witches kill the king? Jesse is the one who stands to benefit by ascending the throne, and he sure as shit isn’t responsible for this.
“Were you able to pinpoint the wielder of the magic? Who did this?” Jesse asks, his voice filled with pain.
Bernadette’s lips pinch together for a moment as her eyes dart to Steph before looking back at Jesse. He stiffens beside me, his grip on my hand tightening as she opens her mouth to respond.
“The magic carries the signature of Stephanie’s bloodline from her father’s side. Either he cast the spell himself, or he sent Shannon to do it.”
“Shannon was here,” I whisper, my eyes burning with the need to blink as I stare at her in horror, “because of me. Because Jesse and I thought she was Steph.”
