It’s survival. Julian was still straining against Raphael’s grip. How long could he hold him there?
There was no time to hesitate. I didn’t let go of my dagger as I approached. But that wouldn’t be my weapon. No, that would be my magic. For the first time, as I looked at Julian, I truly tried to call it forward. To thrall humans, I needed eye contact. I wasn’t sure it was the same for vampires, however.
“Julian. Stop fighting Raphael and focus on me.”
The vampire went still, now facing me.The undead bow to the necromancer.
No, this wasn’t the same as the thrall. I’d had to work to activate the thrall, to carefully hone. This felt as easy as taking a single step forward in a blooming field.
“I’ll fight you—” he ground out, even as Raphael still choked him.
I looked at Raphael. He’d mentioned that he’d had time to prepare and could block me.
“He’s bluffing. Do it now, Samara. I can’t hold him for long.”
Fine.
“You’re going to forget I’m the necromancer. You’re going to forget any suspicion about me being the necromancer—or any kind of witch,” I added. Hopefully, that was broad enough. “When Raphael lets you go, you’ll forget why you two were fighting.”
Raphael looked at me, and I realized that might still leave questions.
“Or even that you fought today at all. You won’t notice anything amiss. Instead, you’ll think you came here to . . . to . . . to invite us to dinner.”
That was plausible. He seemed like the type to try to rub his brother’s face in that as soon as possible. Raphael gave a slight huff, but an annoying family dinner was a low price to pay to get rid of Julian without rousing suspicion.
“How do we know it worked?” I asked Raphael.
“It worked.” He sounded far more confident than I felt. “Let your magic fall away and we’ll be fine.”
Julian looked only slightly dazed, not quite the same as the humans. But if ever there were a moment to trust Raphael, this was it.
He let Julian go but didn’t retreat, standing over him on the couch where he’d just been choking him.
“What do you want?” Raphael demanded.
Julian blinked, as if his mind were just catching up, no doubt trying to piece together what had happened. In any case, he recovered in seconds, smirking at Raphael like he hadn’t a care in the world.
“I was waiting here to invite you to dinner. Your lovely fledgling lost a bet with me.”
Was that the effect of my magic? Or was he just good at faking control?
“Fine,” Raphael said. “Deal’s a deal. Now leave us be.”
Julian arched a brow in suspicion. “You’re taking this surprisingly well. I expected more of an argument.”
He might not remember what had happened, but that didn’t mean he didn’t come here expecting to rile up Raphael.
“Let me spare us your tiresome game.” Raphael rolled his eyes like he hadn’t just had him in a choke hold a minute ago. Instead he sounded only a hint irritated, like he sometimes got with Thea. “You expect me to try to get out of it, and then you’ll try torile me with the terms of the arrangements. We’ll bicker, acting beneath both of our stations, and in the end I’ll acquiesce to shut you up and be rid of you. Let’s cut to the part where I’m rid of you.”
“Very well. Dinner’s at midnight.” Julian rose, flicking some dirt off Raphael’s shoulder. “Try to clean up before then—some of us still have standards.” He crossed the room and caught my hand, pressing a kiss to it before I could stop him. “Lady Samara. You, I am without a doubt, will exceed all standards.”
I didn’t dare flinch for fear something would give away what we’d done. He made a disappointed sound and then was gone in another flash, the door closing behind him with a soft clink.
I turned to Raphael, but he pressed a finger to his lips. The rooms were enchanted to muffle any noise, but with Julian anywhere nearby, he was right not to trust. He headed to the bathroom, and I followed. He shut the door behind us.
“Is it safe now?” I finally dared ask.
Raphael ran the back of his palm over my cheek. I leaned into the touch, not caring we were both filthy. “Julian won’t be a threat. One obnoxious dinner, we can endure.”
