“Are the lycanthropes really your friends?” I asked. Would it be so unreasonable to believe that they weren’t friends, and he wanted them released for nefarious reasons? They could be mortal enemies with a long, violent history of battle and revenge, and Cirrian wanted them released to exact his brand ofretribution. Everything I knew about Cirrian, the lycanthropes, Goddess Annessa, the war between them and the draveths, was from his point of view. Even Larkin, during his visit when he tried to use his brother’s body as a punching bag, had aligning motives.
His eyes narrowed at the question and the accompanying accusation. “Where is this doubt coming from, my little minx?” The inquiry rolled off his lips in a purr, and I couldn’t counteract how the simple “my” made me feel. The tantalizing words of possession should have been a turnoff. I wasn’t his, but my opposition to the idea wasn’t strong enough.
I shook my head, recognizing that the attempt on my life had left me hyper-suspicious and skeptical. Needing a moment, I pulled my shirt and running jacket from my body, overly aware of the sweat that lingered from my jog. A shower would do me good and give me time to mull over how much information about Terran, my effect on werewolves, and my werewolf pet’s aversion to him to tell him.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I told him, heading for the stairs. Midway up them he’d flanked me.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
His brow cocked, and a salacious, delectable grin lifted one corner of his lips. “I thought it was an invitation.”
“It wasn’t.” Snatching my eyes from his before it slipped into one, I added, “I invite you to figure out the poison on the arrow and the magic on it. It’s very potent.”
“The magic on it is a siphoning spell. An archaic one. I’m assuming the person who attacked you the first time didn’t believe it worked and had another option.” After a considering moment, he mused, “They seem very resourceful.”
“Like the draveths?”
“Yes. I suspect they’ve found a way to use your magic in return—or worse.” It was the first time he seemed worried.He slipped deep into his thoughts. I wished he’d share even a modicum of what was going through his mind because his fierce expression made me nervous.
“Enjoy your shower, Kara.”
He was gone.
His departure gave me more time to decide if I’d disclose everything about me and the werewolves and debating whether Amelia was correct. Was it her mom who made the second attempt on me? Who’d made the third?
23
I’d stared at Amelia’s text for too long feeling the curtness of it in my soul.
Amelia
pick you up in an hour
K
Something was different between us. She was different. It felt as if she’d armored herself with a persona I wasn’t particularly fond of. It made it difficult to change the subject or tell her about my newly acquired spellbook, which had dominated my thoughts until her text arrived.
In her car, I could still feel it, the space heavy with thick, uncompanionable silence after she told me that we were visiting Vina. She gave me what I was convinced was a sanitized version of why. There were enough holes in the story to drive a semi through, and her evasiveness to further questions made me question if I should be hurt or concerned. She needed me for the visit, so I’d accompany her.
“I love you,” she whispered. The finality in her words and the set of her clenched jaw pricked at my protective instinct.
“That sounds like final words. You don’t feel safe around your mother, do you?”
She kept her eyes ahead, not even risking a single glance in my direction. “When you choose the pursuit of magic and the acquisition of more power, no one is ever safe around you. Because nothing else matters.” She quickly batted away a tear.
I was seconds from making her turn the car around and return to my house when she pulled into the driveway of a dilapidated farmhouse. Amelia’s eyes followed mine as we scanned the encroaching cornfields, unkempt lawn, and a barn several feet away that looked like a strong wind would collapse it.
She backed her Jetta into the space next to an unfamiliar compact SUV. I assumed the small SUV was Vina’s, and it wasn’t a good sign that she’d parked for an easy escape. Before I could ask any questions, Amelia exited the car. We exchanged looks, our fear heavy in the air. Vina asking Amelia to meet her this far from the city was a clear sign that she had malign intent.
“She likes this place,” Amelia admitted, her frown deepening as she looked over the area again. “This is where sheurgedme to level up my power at the expense of one of her witches.” Amelia shook her head. “She wanted me to practice on one of her acolytes who worshipped her like a god. She poisoned them and watched as they slowly died, offering me the opportunity to take their magic. When I wouldn’t, she did. How did she become this person?” Amelia whispered in a tone as though she didn’t expect an answer, but she looked at me, wanting something.
“You’ll never be like her,” I assured her. The thirst for power and magic seemed to deplete one’s ethics. “You don’t think she’ll expect anything?”
The only other thing Amelia told me, apart from the abridged version of the purpose of the visit, was the impression Vina gave that she was letting me meet with her to answer any questions Vina may have had. We both knew she wanted more than just answers from me.
Amelia’s face scrunched in the way that usually accompanied a quirky comment, but she was a maelstrom of emotions.
“Why would she? I’ve been a fool this long.”
