The cramped, makeshift library didn’t leave much room for pacing, but I made use of every inch as I scanned the pages. It was a struggle. My mind kept drifting back to Cirrian’s comment about how the vampires would respond to me. That I was dangerous. It too closely mirrored Vina’s words. Then the release of his friend. No, not just a friend.Friends.A group of people I was convinced would sow chaos and mayhem and be just as bad as him and probably with fewer limitations.
Instead of refocusing on the spellbook, the wordashinwaturned over and over in my head. Was it a title, a designation, a form, or magic? I needed answers.
Rushing down the stairs, I asked before I was completely in the room, “How are you going to use my magic to release your friends?”
The room was empty. A few pieces of fruit missing from the bowl and the empty bag of chips on the table were the only evidence of him having been in my home. While I was researching, he was downstairs snacking and living his best life.
Grabbing my phone and bag, I headed for the best source I had when it came to curses: The House of Hollows.
The Hollows’s house manager was reluctant to “give me an audience,” but I didn’t blame him. I’d shown up uninvited, which was a breach of etiquette and would be considered rude if done by any of the houses. My employment didn’t exempt me from adhering to the rules of propriety.
It was bad enough that I’d committed the faux pas of showing up unannounced, but when I was begrudgingly led to Corrine’s office, I passed a very handsome, tall, slender man sporting purple bruising on the left side of his neck. A vampire’s feedings often end with their tongue laving over the bite mark left on the donor to close the puncture, but it took a few minutes for the bruising to fade.
After I’d spent several moments brusquely knocking, Corrine offered me a languorous, uninspired invite. Reclining in a cream tufted leather chair, her skin had a healthy flush, but her eyes were darker and ravenous, like hunger hadn’t been sated. Not only had I come to the House of Hollows at nearly two o’clock in the morning, uninvited, I’d also interrupted her feeding. Not a good start. Vampires didn’t require sleep and had a preference for the evening. Showing up at anyone’s house this late at night or early morning was annoying.
Her office was decorated in hues of cream and pearl, creating a luxurious sanctuary despite the frequent violence and bloodshed that took place there. Oak bookshelves flanked her, and soft ambient light cast a melon glow, making the enormous arched window behind give her an ethereal appearance. I wouldn’t let this misleading image make me underestimate her nature or forget how she often conducted business in this space.
With a flick of her long, wine-colored manicured nails, she directed me to one of the curved chairs at each side of her marble office table.
“Let me guess, you’ve been pining over your poor decision to strip me of my stake?”
“No. There should be consequences for your actions. Or would you prefer Belham to respond with an acceptable retaliation for your little stunt?”
A dark challenge flashed over her face, reminding me that the mere mention of his name stoked the flames of her aggression. It sparked my curiosity again. Their annoyance with each other had to stem from more than power lust and the need to subjugate power brokers.
“Why are you here uninvited, interrupting my…um, meal?”
I was certain that it was more than her meal I’d interrupted. Damn, I was zero for three.
“I need your help?”
Her brow rose with interest. The last time I’d asked for help, it led to her destroying a vampire house. But on the plus side, she’d gained a mentee I was positive would do her proud.
In my abridged version of the situation, I left the kinborn witches’ involvement and Cirrian out.
“How did William get hold of a Heartsoil charm?”
I shrugged.
“I won’t help you if you lie to me, Takara,” she cautioned.
Too often I had to navigate a very tight line that was seconds from snapping and dropping me into a situation where I unintentionally betrayed confidences and severed connections I might need.
“Kara,” she pressed after I took too long contemplating. “Heartsoil charms are the work of a kinborn witch,” she provided, making it easier to nod in agreement than to offer information. It didn’t feel like a betrayal of confidence by confirming information she already knew.
Her lips curled into a grim frown. “Of course he has access to kinborn witches,” she blew out with a heavy sigh. “You were right. Between the two, Belham is more fitting as the Elite.” Her new appreciation for Belham’s position wasn’t because it was the best for the House of Knight. William would be more of a challenge.
She leaned forward, studying me for a long uncomfortable moment. “What else are you hiding from me, Takara?” The heavy emphasis of the “Ta’” was a reprimand—No, a warning.
“I believe I was the target of the curse, not Amelia.”
In a sudden, explosive movement, she stood. Her anger flooded the serenity of the office. “How dare they!” Laced with fury and indignation, her voice echoed in the room.
How dare they attack our liaison? We need to kick their asses.
She perceived the assassination attempt as a direct attack on the House of Hollows. I let the assumption run rampant. I wasn’t proud of my deception by omission. The guilt faded when she quickly moved to her bookshelf and unlocked the bottom drawer. She pulled out a weathered book and placed it on the desk.
Scanning the pages while she did, I couldn’t read most of the spells.
