“Taunt me all you wish. Melantha assured me your ancestry can be traced and verified.”
Melantha.
So it was true, then. The bitch betrayed me.
Fury boiled up inside.
But… Why had she gone to all the trouble of sending me on this doomed blood-heist mission if her intent was to turn me over to Keradoc? It made no sense.
Still, my gut told me he wasn’t lying. Not about this.
“Melantha?” I sneered. “The same one who ordered me to steal your blood for a spell to free her son? Yes, she’s certainly a reliable narrator. Good call trusting her.”
“Her son?” He let out a dark chuckle. “It seems Melantha was hedging her bets. I regret to inform you she has no children—only tricks.”
“Says the master illusionist himself. Nice glamour, by the way. Might want to touch it up a bit—it’s starting to show your age. And those eyes… Are they violet? Silver? Who can tell?”
He hesitated, just for a moment. Just long enough to let me know my arrow had hit the mark.
So itwasa glamour. And he didn’t realize it was faltering.
“Why did she want your blood?” I asked, taking advantage of his momentary distraction. I needed to get him talking. Ranting. Ranting villains always increased your chances of mounting a successful escape.
“She’s trying to blackmail me into reversing her permanent banishment from Midnight. With my blood in her possession, she could’ve crafted all sorts of curses to harm or manipulate me.” He sighed as if the topic bored him. “You’re a blood witch, Haley. You know how this works.”
“But it sounds like you guys already made a deal, no? She gift-wraps me in a nice little bow and delivers me to Midnight, and you let her back in. Right?”
“That was the agreement, but I never had any intentions of honoring it. I suppose that’s why she made a backup plan.”
“She wanted a win-win,” I said, the pieces finally clicking into place.
Melantha must’ve figured it would go one of two ways—either I’d get the blood and make it back to the Temple, granting her the powers she needed to blackmail him, or I’d fail and Keradoc would get to keep his so-called present, granting her that shiny new passport to Midnight as a thanks.
“Well, fuck her,” I said. “She’s officially on my shit-list. Hey! Here’s a thought.” I flashed my most award-winning smile. “Maybe we should team up and kick her ass? The enemy’s enemy is my friend?”
“Oh, but weareteaming up.” A cruel smirk twisted his otherwise handsome face, and a chill skittered down my spine. “To make a weapon.”
His earlier words echoed, the speech he’d given the crowd. Something about… a weapon the enemy could never defeat?
And if he needed Darkwinter blood to make it…
“It’s me,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. “I’m the weapon.”
“Did you not wonder why it was so easy for you to traverse this treacherous realm?” Keradoc asked. “To breach my wall without the guards raising the alarm? To slip into my castle with a forged invitation?”
His words crashed over me in a dark wave. I’d thought we’d just gotten lucky with our escape from the raven gryphons and the relatively unimpeded trek to the wall. With the starshowers that’d distracted the guards. With securing Gem’s help.
But no—luck had nothing to do with it. Keradoc had been expecting me all along, and he’d rolled out Midnight’s version of the red carpet, luring me right into his trap.
He must’ve seen the realization dawning on my face, because when he spoke again, his tone dripped with smug satisfaction. “You will use your blood magick to summon your Darkwinter ancestors. Our necromancers will take care of the rest.”
I closed my eyes, trying to recall everything I knew about my Darkwinter heritage. I’d only just found out about it recently—it all came out during the attacks on Blackmoon Bay, and since then, I’d been doing my best to ignore it. We fought against Darkwinter in the Bay too, just like Keradoc was doing in Midnight. They were evil assholes. I didn’t want to believe I’d come from them—who would?
But now, I could no longer deny the truth.
My sisters and I were descendants of one of the very first witches and… wait for it… her Darkwinter lovers.
Yes, lovers. Plural. Apparently, it runs in the family.
