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“What about Sirus?” Gwen ventured. “You’ve known him a long time too, right?”
Levian snorted softly and stretched her long body further over the couch. “I’ve known him longer than Barith. Though you would never know it. I get along with him as well as anyone can, I suppose.” She cut Gwen a knowing look. “As you’ve no doubt surmised, Sirus is not exactly the warmest creature to walk this plane.”
“I noticed,” Gwen grumbled. He’d greeted her this morning with such chill she’d tugged her jacket tighter around her chest. “I assumed all vampires were like that.”
“Not all of us,” came a smooth voice from behind her.
An instant chill ran down Gwen’s spine and she turned to find a very striking young woman hovering in the doorway. Her porcelain skin was marked only by dark brown freckles smattered like a cluster of stars over her nose and cheeks. The tight curls that lay around her shoulders were the color of a wheat field on fire. She wore dark pants, a thick black sweater, and high leather boots. Her heavy silver jewelry only added to her punk vibe. Her eyes were a soft hazel and held a familiar sharp coldness. Even if she hadn’t heard her, Gwen would have known instantly what she was. Vampire.
“Ah. There you are,” Levian chimed, popping up from the couch. She fluttered over to the woman and turned to face Gwen. “Niah, meet Gwendolyn. Gwen, this is Niah.”
“A pleasure,” Niah offered when Gwen found her mouth too dry to speak.
“Hi,” she eventually managed.
A soft smirk teased at the corner of Niah’s lips, and Gwen’s stomach churned. “I won’t bite,” she teased.
Gwen swallowed a lump of air. She tried her best to give a little laugh but failed. She hadn’t known there was another vampire in the house. A thought struck her. Was Niah here with Sirus? Was she his partner? Her stomach knotted further.
Levian huffed at Niah and wandered back to her perch on the couch. “Vampire humor. It never seems to work quite as you intend, does it?”
Niah gave a little shrug, finally breaking eye contact with Gwen. She sauntered after Levian. “Sometimes. Depends on the crowd.”
The mage laughed. “I can only imagine what type of crowd would enjoy it.”
“You have to give me some credit,” Niah replied smoothly as she took her seat next to Levian. “I’m at least warmer than Sirus.”
Levian raised her brows in contemplation. “That is true. Though a block of ice would be warmer than your brother.”
Gwen’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “Brother?”
Both of the women shifted their gaze at her outburst. Then they smiled. Niah very casually leaned back in her seat. It reminded Gwen of a cat. Or maybe a tiger. “Sirus is my clan brother,” she explained. “We were reborn into the same family of vampires.”
“Oh,” was all Gwen could manage in return. She supposed it made sense that Sirus would have other vampires in his life. A family. A sister, apparently. It was just so unexpected. It was also weird to realize her relief at finding out Niah was only a sister and not something…else.
“I apologize if he’s been difficult,” Niah told her. “I promise that I’m not nearly as frigid.”
“Yes, you’re just the personification of warmth,” Levian snarked. “Gwendolyn has held her own rather well,” she continued, her gaze lingering on Gwen with a touch of curiosity. “Not many creatures are comfortable being near vampires. Especially Sirus. It doesn’t go unnoticed.”
“I wouldn’t say comfortable,” Gwen replied. Sirus made her feel the exact opposite of comfortable. “And I wasn’t exactly given a choice.”
Levian smirked. “I suppose that’s true,” she replied. With a flick of her wrist, a brand-new tube of lip gloss appeared in her hand.
“How do you do that?” Gwen asked. The question just popped out. It wasn’t the first time the mage had done that, but she’d felt rude asking before.
“What, darling?”
“Make things—appear?”
The mage seemed amused by her naivete, as one corner of her lips curled into a half smile. She glanced at Niah, who wasn’t smiling but watching Gwen a bit too intently. So much for warmth. “A simple trick of the trade,” Levian told her. She straightened herself on the settee, holding up the tube in her hand. There was a soft pop of air, and it was gone. Another and it returned. “The key is knowing where everything is,” she explained, popping open the top and spreading the glossy red contents over her lips.
“But where does it go? Just back where it came from?” Gwen guessed.
“It goes wherever I wish,” Levian replied. “As long as it’s within reasonable distance. It’s easier to conjure within your own home—though it does take a little effort. I try not to overuse it, as a rule. Even if it’s tempting. Relying on magick too heavily in everyday life can lead to trouble, or so my mother used to say. Though it is rather handy when you’ve misplaced something.”
“I can’t imagine you ever suffering such a need,” Niah remarked dryly, her eyes scanning the room. There were piles of books and scrolls and papers stacked and tucked everywhere. Gwen was surprised Levian knew where anything was in here. Her eyes lingered for a second over the whale bones hanging from the ceiling.
“If I’m hunting something I can envision but have misplaced,” the mage went on, ignoring Niah’s taunt, “that is a touch harder, but not if it’s nearby. Small items without magickal energy take less effort to summon, like a cup or some lipstick. Items of magick take a little more oomph. They don’t like being disturbed if they can help it. Objects outside of my personal possession tend to be far less cooperative as well. If an item is of magick and not my own, it’s nearly impossible.”
