I folded my arms over my chest again. “Is that a request or a demand?”
Her smile widened and a spark of dark excitement moved over her keen, cruel eyes.
“Does it matter? The results will be the same.”
“Yes. If it’s a request, I’ll decide if I want her involved and you two will need to make it worth her getting out of bed”—I glanced at the wall clock—“at two in the morning.Butif it’s a demand, then I’m going to request that both of you leave. And we’ll be done here.”
Shock moved over their faces and eventually moved to incredulity. I was sure the debate to make me pay for my response was ruminating somewhere in their minds. I turned to Belham. “I saw your vampire in danger. And I helped. And then I called you both and have done everything I could to help you. If bossing me around and giving me veiled threats are how youreturn my help, I don’t want to have anything else to do with you and I damn sure am not going to involve my friends.”
Belham’s deep roll of laughter filled the room. He tilted his head and studied me with a renewed interest. His amusement was purely a result of my snark at Corrine. Their rivalry would be entertaining without the knowledge that their unfettered power could lead to unspeakable chaos and destruction.
Corrine gave me a tight half-smile. “A request. Please.” The courtesy was pushed out through gritted teeth.
I didn’t want them to witness the level of coaxing and perhaps pleading needed for Amelia’s assistance. She possessed an abiding dislike for vampires, and working with such notorious ones wouldn’t sit well with her.
On the phone, I gave my friend an abbreviated summary of what occurred. I wasn’t sure why I left out Raynard’s response to feeding from me, but I did. Maybe because she was already carrying the information about the draveth’s attack and her mother’s parting words. It was unfair to add to that burden.
“Ask for my assistance when they learn how to breathe,” she shot back. Then muttered “creepy bastards.” Between her refusals and disparaging comments about vampires, she suggested Rachel. I considered Rachel the second-best witch in the coven, but I was biased. An hour later, Rachel showed up, far too enthusiastic and perky for someone awakened at three in the morning. They didn’t haggle over her fee of five grand. After a few taps on their phones, they’d both sent the requested amount—doubling her fee. Rachel quickly ushered away her shock. Opening her bag, she pulled out ingredients, and we watched in fascination as she quickly spooled the lingering magic into a cloud above her.
“Magic has its own signature. Like a fingerprint but not as easy to detect. It can’t be removed, but it can be masked. Likefingerprints, it’s useless if you don’t have anything to match it against.”
The vampires nodded their understanding, but I got the impression this was information Corrine already knew.
We were all captivated by the fluid, purposeful movements of Rachel’s hands as she unraveled the remnants of the spell. She made the delicate art of spell weaving seem effortless, although the sheen of sweat along her hairline and the faint tremble in her fingers told a different story. Depleted, she leaned against the wall. It took visible effort for her to lift her gaze to meet mine. “They didn’t make it easy,” she said slowly, catching her breath. She ran a finger over her furrowed brows, urging them to relax. “The owner of the spell is masked by a coven’s marker.”
She closed her eyes briefly, then shifted her attention to the bewildered vampires. “Coven markers are like your crests, but more complex and just as symbolic. It serves more as a warning to anyone who attempts to find the caster that they will have to deal with the coven as well.”
“I’m prepared to do that,” Belham said.
“I’m not willing to let you.” With effort, she held Belham’s cold eyes, and when it became too difficult, she shifted her focus to me. There was something unspoken in her expression, a depth of meaning that made it clear this wasn’t just about protecting witches from vampires. This was personal—she was protecting someone she cared about. From my time spent around her and their coven, I had an inkling of which coven was involved.
Belham’s dangerous smirk sent a shiver down my spine, and I instinctively stepped in front of Rachel. The only protection I had was pepper spray in my pocket. I’d use that and then knee him. No matter how powerful he was, a strike to the crotch would give Rachel and me a head start. And Corrine would get a gouge to the eyes and strike to the tits. It was about survivalat this point, not propriety. But before I went with violence, I decided to try an appeal to practicality.
I pointed out that witches didn’t mind the stronghold vampires had on the supernatural community and their self-appointed roles as rulers of it. Witches had no desire to see them fall. But the witches could be the greatest challenge to vampire positions if they went to war with them. Personally, I was convinced the shifters would be. The only thing stopping them was their low population. Which they seemed on a mission to remedy. Immune to magic when in their animal form, their strength and speed made them the only supernaturals who rivaled the vampires. They weren’t as old but had comparable resources.
I went on, pointing out that retaliation against the coven would lead to backlash, which would make witches reluctant to work with them. By overlooking the infraction, the vampires could take advantage of the witches’ worst shortcoming: their willingness, for the right price, to ignore the reason for a requested spell.
After pointing that out, the vampires seemed less reluctant to go after the witch or the coven. Not fully trusting them, Rachel and I refused to give them names. But I agreed to find the vampire house involved.
Two days later, both Belham and Corrine were in my living room and making a concerted effort not to pass judgment on my place. It was one of the few apartments I could afford on my salary from Cloak and Daggers. The monthly rent was probably less than the strappy Jimmy Choo’s pumps Corrine wore, or Belham’s bespoke suit.
I provided them with the name of the vampire house responsible for the poorly executed frame job. It was apparent that they wanted destruction of the person responsible. Not just the person, the house as well.
“Yeah, make more houses hate and fear you,” I countered between their insults and threats against each other in an effort to claim rights to punishing the offender.
“From the chatter in the club, I’ve gathered there is general respect for your position. Of course there will be some dissent. That’s normal for the powerful, but if you destroy a house because they protect one of their own, it will not be received well,” I said. “It will lead to feelings of hopelessness. And feelings of despair lead to recklessness.”
When they didn’t seem convinced, I continued. “The execution of the setup was performed so poorly, it’s almost a punishment to have to live with their failure. Punishment makes them seem consequential. And this person isn’t. Why give them that morsel of credibility?”
They took a long, considering moment. Nothing about their expressions gave me insight into what they were thinking. I only had the windows to the nonexistent souls to go by. Their eyes were stormy, and by the time they left, I figured there would be one less vampire house.
Days later, I’d seen members of the offending house in Cloak and Dagger, so I figured Belham and Corrine had taken my advice, or at least some parts of it. I didn’t pursue confirmation. The further I stayed away from the two houses and out of vampire business, the safer I surely would be.
Two weeks had passed and the club had emptied, when I was shocked to find Corrine and Belham in the small break room. When my coworkers scuttled away, leaving me in the room with them, the glare I gave them for their cowardice spoke louder than any words could.
Corrine smiled at the reaction. And the room was overtaken by their quiet tension while I stood on the opposite side of the room watching them attempt to ignore the other’s presence.
“I like you,” Corrine announced, pausing her rhythmic tapping against the table next to her. Though her words were offered as a concise compliment, her expression provided nothing more than regarding me the way a cat would a mouse.
