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“They will if it means preventing a war that would inevitably kill a great number of their community,” Dad offers with a firm nod. “And they will if you can make them see that the prophecy was misinterpreted all those years ago. Your death brought our two worlds together, ending the strife with unity, not war. The ‘end of all we know’ isn’t the terrible thing we always assumed it would be. It’s a new beginning. Make them see that, Eden, and it will change everything.”
A sliver of hope tattoos down my spine at his heartfelt words. He’s right. My becoming a vampire united the two groups. My mate is the vampire king, and I’m the last of the most powerful of witch bloodlines. If I can make the council see my existence and position as an advantage, that they can use me to garner peace between the two races, they’ll be on my side. They’ll shut Helena and her coven down.
And we can all just get on with our lives.
“Okay,” I say with a nod. “I’ll talk to Steph, and we can put this plan into action.”
And I really hope it works.
51
COME TO BE
It’s amazing how quickly and efficiently a group can come together when the right kind and amount of pressure is applied. Steph sent out a summons to the covens, telling each of the leaders she has an update on some suspicious vampire activity in the area, and every member of the council booked a flight to Los Angeles within the hour. Steph, herself, caught the next flight back from Georgia, and she and Erik arrived at the manor late last night.
This whole thing came together much more quickly than I could’ve hoped.
I’m glad it worked, of course, but the obvious tension and fear they feel toward my mate and our people is frustrating. Other than our skirmish with Steph’s father and his coven a few months ago, the vampires have not initiated a single conflict with any witch covens since they revealed their presence to the world.
Oh, and that little skirmish down in New Orleans with Brimmwise doesn’t count. That beef was between them and me, and they started it.
But history isn’t easily forgotten, and this fear and loathing has been handed down for generations. It won’t be easy to eliminate, but I have to try.
Steph gives me an encouraging smile as we walk across the parking lot. The doors of the event center she booked for the meeting are propped wide open, just as she instructed when she rented the place, and I give her an almost imperceptible nod. This will allow my parents to stroll inside undetected without one of us having to hold the door open for them.
As Steph and I walk inside, the witches seated around the table grow quiet, their curious stares burning into us. My steps stutter as I catch a whiff of decomposing flowers, and then something inside me settles. My parents are here, and they’re casting the spell to seal the room.
No one is going anywhere until we say so.
I nod at Steph, and she instructs the witch closest to the doors to close them and cast a spell to keep any eavesdroppers from overhearing the conversation. I know Jesse hates this part, being cut off from me by magic when he’s waiting in the lot of the building across the street, but it’s a necessary evil.
Council meetings are sacred and private, and spells like this one are always cast to protect the witches and their secrets.
Steph’s barely called the meeting to order when Helena Kirkwood, herself, cuts in, asking, “What have those bloodsucking vampires done now?”
My body stiffens as I stare a hole through her, but she refuses to even acknowledge my presence at the table. One corner of her mouth twitches as she waits for Steph to answer, and I grit my teeth.
She’s pleased with herself and the not-so-veiled insult she just threw my way.
Bitch.
“I’m afraid I wasn’t completely honest about the purpose of this meeting,” Steph says, making me proud with how firm and steady her voice remains. “There has been no suspicious vampire activity. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” a council member booms from the opposite end of the table.
“It means, Archibald,” Steph says, placing emphasis on his name, “that the suspicious activity has been performed by a coven represented in this very room.”
Grumbles and whispers erupt, but I keep my gaze firmly locked on Helena. She must feel the burn of my stare, because her eyes flick my way with surprise. I hold her gaze for a long moment, then push myself to my feet.
The room falls eerily silent, all eyes on me as I continue to stare at the leader of the Desertwillow coven.
“I may be a bloodsucker, as Ms. Kirkwood so kindly coined the vampires,” I say in a loud, clear voice, “but I am also a witch. The last of the Grundelier bloodline, a line that has given me certain…enhanced powers.”
I pause, waiting until the murmurs that broke out at my words die down. Helena doesn’t move a muscle, her gaze turning curious as she and the others wait for me to continue.
“I have experienced visions of the past for quite a while now, but in a more recent development, I’ve discovered I possess the ability to astral project.”
The room breaks into chaos again, witches shouting words like “preposterous” and “blasphemy.” I don’t argue. I simply wait, stoic, until the maelstrom dies down once more.
