I spent most of the drive to Rachel’s, where Amelia had told a select few to meet, glaring at the side of her face as she navigated the crowded streets. I had zero desire to be present for coven discord.
“The translated grimoire will soften the information,” she finally said after minutes of pretending to ignore my looks.
“What if Cirrian hadn’t translated it?”
“I knew he would.” She grinned. “I never doubted your skills of persuasion for one minute.”
I was quick to remind her that no skills were used and that I had been surprised by it.
“See. You’re so good at it you don’t even have to try hard. That’s why Dead People Walking liked you so much.”
Laughing at her new name for vampires and her flippant discussion of them softened the reality that I’d have to look for a new job. And my place in the supernatural world had changed. I wasn’t sure if it would invite more danger or stopwhatever danger festered in the background, just waiting for an opportunity. Looking down at my bare wrist, I reminded myself I was ready for the uncertainty and turmoil that would ensue.
Maybe I wasn’t. Being unceremoniously roped into this witch nonsense was something I really didn’t want. I had to appreciate that it was less than it could have been, since Amelia opted to tell the witches who’d helped Rachel with the unsuccessful spell to remove the curse.
Was I standing against the wall as an unenthusiastic and reluctant bystander or as a partner? Accessory? Culprit? I had no idea what my role was in this. But everyone’s eyes periodically turned to me while Amelia retold the incident, editing out Cirrian’s involvement.
Amelia remained planted in her chair, held by the sheer intensity of the glares from Rachel, Madoc, Mave, and Kenna. Madoc and Mave were mirror images of one another, arms folded across their chests, stern looks of disapproval leveled at her. Rachel stood close, appearing ready to lean over Amelia like an investigator questioning a suspect. Kenna was in a state of perpetual perplexity occasionally overshadowed by glares at me and Amelia. This was proving to be the cherry atop my sundae fuckery of a day.
I was the misplaced target of their ire. I should have been with them, peppering her with questions, volleying allegations of not feeling trusted and a variety of emotions that they couldn’t wrangle. Their magic and energy stifled the room. Kenna, Mave, and Madoc directed some of their frustration at Rachel when they discovered she’d known that Vina was Amelia’s mother.
“So, you must guard this”—Madoc waved at the thaumavore on a bracelet around Amelia’s wrist—“without magic.”
Aligning the strongest of her coven to help protect the thaumavore was the smartest thing to do, but the witches seemed to share Cirrian’s belief that becoming its keeper wasn’t worth the trouble. Amelia would be without her magic until Vina died, or she saw fit to allow one of them to unbind her from the object. Her refusal to give them the spell to do so only added to their frustration.
We had shared a great deal with them, but Amelia still carried an exceptional number of secrets regarding it. They weren’t aware that Cirrian was ever involved, or that the thaumavore only held Vina’s magic. And I’d been the devious troublemaker who’dtakenit from Diehle. I disclosed that he had been killed, giving me unearned cred. Between my employment with the vampires, association with kinborn witches, Diehle’s death, and the perceived theft of a magical object from him, I’d earned their respect and their apprehension.
“I can’t do it alone, which is why you all are here,” Amelia said.
Rachel waved her hand away. “Of course we’ll help you, but you aren’t safe from her without your magic.” She shot a look at their perceived source of the trouble: me. “We’ll figure out a way to release you from it,” she asserted with a pledge of a vow.
I thought they would oath bind themselves to it, but they didn’t. The vow of protection seemed enough, and I left, happy that Amelia had their support but wishing she’d made another decision. Vina couldn’t be trusted, and Amelia’s life would always be at risk if the thaumavore was the only thing standing between Vina and her magic. We all saw it, but unfortunately Amelia was ignoring it or was in a deep state of denial.
“What aren’t you telling us?” Madoc asked her.
“What?”
He frowned. “There are gaps in the story. Kara acquired the thaumavore. Your mother was the source of the curse, but I don’t believe you were the target.” His eyes slid to me. I tried to hold his gaze, but their searching intensity made it difficult. We hadn’t disclosed my locked magic, and I’d asked Amelia to keep it a secret, but if they were taking on the role of Amelia’s protector, they needed to know.
“I’d like this information to stay between the people in this room,” I said. “Please.”
After they all agreed, I told them everything, starting with the assassination attempt, Vina learning that I was an ashinwa, and her wanting my magic. I gave a highly edited version of the draveths and their connection to Vina. I needed them to know how powerful the draveths were and their connection to Jonah. They already knew to be careful of Jonah, but this gave them more understanding of his abilities and that of his merry misfits.
Amelia broke in, adding the information she’d gathered about draveths from Vina.
“Your mother—” Mave started.
“Vina,” Amelia asserted.
“—Vina wants to break the veil that separates our world from Umbryth, for magic.” The absurdity of it was lost on Mave, who couldn’t wrap her mind around being so power hungry you’d disrupt the fabric of the world.
“Yes,” Amelia said.
“What happens if she’s successful? Wouldn’t that disrupt all the realms?” Madoc asked.
The only thing we could offer were shrugs and speculation because we didn’t know, either.
“And the magic that expelled them from Umbryth was used on you.” Rachel’s correct assumption caught us by surprise.
