While they ate, they made pleasant chit-chat about political candidates and Boston’s unpredictable weather, and Cally kept her answers brief, letting Eve chime in where necessary. The food was probably excellent, but she tasted little, her mouth dry no matter how often she took a sip of water.
At last, dessert was finished, and Mr. Alexander settled back in his chair.
“I trust Darian explained our purpose, and your role in it.”
Finally.
“You believe my magic can help you hunt vampires.” She briefly wondered if saying that out loud was wise—the attendants hadn’t moved once during the meal, and she’d half-forgotten them. Still, no one batted an eye.
Mr. Alexander nodded. “Did you review the book Darian gave you?”
“I’ve made a start,” Eve said. “It shows potential.”
He turned to her in surprise. “Oh, I see. You’re not just her friend. You’re the brains.”
On that point they weren’t wrong—Eve was easily the smartest person at the table.
“No, I just got to the book first.” Eve played it off. “We haven’t had a chance to talk since.”
Mr. Alexander waved a hand. “Tell me what you’ve learned.”
Eve took a moment to collect her thoughts. “There are a variety of witch spells mentioned. From the time I’ve had to study it, I would say most are incomplete or too mundane.” She paused. “They also require considerable power.”
“Which Cally has,” Mr. Alexander supplied, his eyes flicking to her. “You made the obsidian glow like the sun.”
Eve nodded, hesitant. “Potentially. One witch does not a coven make.”
“You have others,” he added firmly.
“No, we don’t,” Eve contradicted. “The other ‘witches’ in our coven are… not like Cally.” She fixed him with her determined gaze. “Doyouhave others?”
Mr. Alexander’s hand clenched into a fist on the table’s surface. “No. We have two witches in the Order, but they are both in Europe, and already the demands on their time are excessive.”
Eve let her skepticism show. “You’re asking an awful lot.”
“Yes, we are,” he replied bluntly. “To be clear, you wouldn’t be alone. We have men. Trained professionals.”
“Then do it yourself.”
Mr. Alexander didn’t try to hide his irritation. “We do, Miss Sullivan. We are not idle. But the cost is excessive—not just in resources, but in lives.” He looked at Cally. “You could change all that. Failures could become successes. Fewer lives lost.”
“So you need us,” Eve said.
“I think we’ve already made that clear.”
Eve nodded. “Then we will take the book when we leave tomorrow, and study it further. We’ll explore what’s possible, and then we’ll let you know.”
Mr. Alexander rolled the stem of his wineglass between his fingers. “I appreciate your attempt to prevaricate, Miss Sullivan, but we require a decision this evening.”
“And if we’re not ready to make one?” Eve asked.
“I wasn’t actually asking you.” He fixed his gaze on Cally. “Your decision, Miss Davis?”
“And if we’re not ready to make one?” Cally deliberately echoed Eve.
He nodded, as if her show of solidarity was expected. “We have shown you—beyond reasonable doubt, I believe—that vampires are real and a genuine threat. Knowing what you now do, how can you stand by and not act?”
Cally had to concede that one. If she and Eve were who they were pretending to be, the argument was compelling. “We only came to learn about the magic,” she demurred.
