Belham shared similar sentiments. “You possess a perceptiveness that I appreciate.” He stepped closer, studying my face with unnerving intensity, a small smile curving his lips. “You’re not afraid of us, are you?”
I was the queen of bravado and bluster, qualities needed to work at Cloak and Dagger. And the shots of vodka had reduced my inhibitions enough to give the impression I was fearless. Without the liquid courage, I’d be forced to project a fearlessness I didn’t have. Exhaustion from sleep deprivation made the fear harder to creep in.
Fake it till you make it—I guess.
I wasn’t afraid of them. But I was cautious and just wanted them to get to the point. My last encounter with them was so busy, I hadn’t had time to think about what I’d done to the vampire. But since then, I’d spent every waking moment trying not to unravel from the discovery and debating who I’d tell. I loved my best friend, and she’d never given me a reason to mistrust her, but I lived by the rule that if you want something to remain a secret, then it is best to keep it to yourself. How could I search about the ability without being discovered?
A pearl of fear remained as I waited for the compliments to end and the accusations to begin about what I’d done to Raynard. He was only able to recall feeding from the blood bag.
My strong protective urges and Vina’s last words had made me overly cautious.
One thing was definite: I had magic. Unknown magic. Peculiar magic. Possibly vampire-changing magic. Which put me in the category of feared and disposable. Heavy on the disposable part. I didn’t even want to consider what thevampires would do if they learned I possessed the ability to…whatever the hell I’d done. Rehuman them, reanimate them. Did that ability go further?
With their icy gazes turned on me, I wondered if I’d confessed at some point during my reverie. They repeated themselves. It was a job offer. I blinked several times and asked them to repeat themselves again.
That was the beginning of me failing up to becoming the liaison for the houses of Knight and Hollows. I’d refused their initial offer, but several zeros added to the offer made me a fool to turn it down. A hundred-fifty thousand base and the hazard pay I negotiated was too good to refuse. But there were many occasions when I believed I was a fool for accepting it. I’d undervalued the cost of my life.
“You’re far from a cautionary tale,” I said, returning to the present and addressing Corrine’s spin on the tale of her life. She wasn’t a cautionary tale but had fallen nicely adjacent to one. She was once a powerful witch who fell in love with a vampire. A liaison that didn’t occur nearly as often as paranormal romance novels wanted us to believe.
Corrine was a Nightshade witch. Her umbral magic fell firmly into the realm of gray magic, and her necromancy abilities gave her power over vampires. It was like nothing they’d seen before. Her capabilities were revered by other witches and reviled and feared by the vampires.
The vampires wanted to kill her but understood the devastation that a clash between witches and vampires would cause. So, a vampire seduced her, made her fall in love with him. With his claim of wanting to spend his life with her, she allowedhim to change her, unaware that one of the side effects of the transition was the loss of her magic. By consenting to being changed, he rid her of the power she had over vampires. Corrine later discovered that her lover had been aware of it and had been tasked with stripping her of her magic.
Corrine became the cautionary tale of witches changing to vampires. But she also became a cautionary tale for anyone who betrayed her. Corrine took the vampire’s life and position as Elite of the house. According to tradition, the position should have gone to the oldest vampire sired by her partner, but the ruthlessness involved in his death ensured that no one would dare challenge her self-appointed position as the house’s Elite.
Corrine had returned to her sofa, her arms stretched out again. “Jonah and his community of witches have much untapped ability. They claim to be alchemy witches, but their skills surpass anything I’ve ever seen alchemy witches do. They’re fascinating and there’s a malevolent depth to their magic I’ve never seen before. Jonah was given instructions for a modest somber spell, and he made it uniquely his. Belham would have been treated to a lovely sleep. We’d all get to enjoy his much-needed rest. I had no intention of killing him, therefore upholding my promise.”
To keep covens small, they were divided by counties. If Jonah and his cohorts were alchemy witches, they’d be urged to join the Lunar Veil witches, Amelia and Rachel’s coven.
“How did he make it uniquely his?” From previous dealings with Corrine and noting the effort she was putting into the innocuous purse of her lips, I knew there was far more to it than a simple somber spell.
“Corrine, what else did it do?” I probed to pull her from her interest in her nails.
Eyes snapping in my direction, the slow rove of her gaze over me, lingering at the vulnerable puncture spots for fangs, servedas her warning that any information she provided was to be kept between us.
“It couldn’t be removed, and any attempt would render the witch in a similar state.”
“For how long?”
Lips curling into a vulpine smile, she shrugged. “He couldn’t give a specific time but assured me that it wouldn’t be indefinite. It was meant to discourage anyone from trying to remove it.”
Jonah wouldn’t last very long in a coven without facing censure and criticism by other covens. I was sure the same could be said about the collection of witches in his quasi coven.
“How long would Belham have been subjected to his slumber?”
“Does it matter?” she said, dismissing the question with a wave of her hand. “Shouldn’t I have been given some modicum of recognition for my restraint? Despite the many reasons he’s given me to break my promise, I’ve been steadfast in upholding it. My promise remains unbroken. My compliance should be celebrated.”
Before I could respond, she was at the small wine fridge, retrieving a bottle of champagne and two flutes.
Compliance? Unbroken promise?Did she know what those words meant? She was so elated by her circumvention. As if subjecting a person to a nonfatal stabbing was an acceptable alternative to upholding a promise not to kill them.
I took the proffered flute of champagne and placed it on the table next to me. “Your antics severed any goodwill you all had established.” Being vampire babysitter was fine for now, but I hated being the person holding the tenuous thread that kept the supernatural world in check.
“Contrary to what you may think, I am aware of our houses’ roles in maintaining civility among the supernaturals. A war between us would unravel the delicate balance, plunging usinto chaos, destruction, and an obscene number of collateral deaths as the power-hungry scrambled for hierarchy. I suspect the wolves—those sneaky little bastards—would come out on top. I know they’re plotting.” Her tone was laced with bitter acceptance.
Werewolves were made—not turned. Unlike true wolves, they didn’t have litters. It was rare for werewolves to have twins or triplets. This limited their population and gave vampires the advantage.
But I couldn’t help but wonder if the witches were the dark horses. While everyone would look to the werewolves or the other vampire houses to be involved, I suspected the umbral witches would be the ones to take advantage of any instability and make a play for power. They practiced gray magic only because they’d be ostracized and penalized for practicing black magic. Their necromancy magic was limited to speaking to dead humans and the ability to control them for a limited time. They were ambitious and had been working to learn how to control vampires, who technically weren’t among the living. Corrine had been the only witch with the ability—and the vampires saw to the death of that magic. Covens of witches with the ability to control vampires would have unbridled power.
