Page 59 of The Duke’s Bloody Bargain

Irene nodded. “Because by killing Bethlen, we will break the curse he spread upon the people he’d turned. Lucy will return human and dead. And Alex?”

Darius shook his head. “He won’t die. He wasn’t killed when he was human.”

I was sorry for Lucy, but there was a rogue at large, and I’d made the mistake of not taking him seriously. “Are we going to let Bethlen prowl through London without stopping him?”

Irene clenched a fist. “Are we going to let Lucy die?”

“If the choice is between one person and thousands, yes.”

Our bond grew tight. Apparently, everything I did was wrong, even when I tried to save thousands of people.

“Can’t we restrain Bethlen? Catch him and lock him up in Raven Hall?” She gave me a challenging look.

“If it were that easy, yes.” I kept my tone down.

“Listen.” Darius stepped between Irene and me. “Let’s do things properly. First, we need to retrieve Lucy’s body. Then we’ll find Bethlen and ask him what he did to Lucy. The only thing we know is that he fed from her and didn’t mean to kill her.”

“He has the power to vanish, and the last time we just talked to him, he killed two people.” The idea of facing my sire didn’t thrill me, not only because he was infinitely stronger than I was, but also because I didn’t want to be tempted to embrace my darkness. “He’s the fastest, strongest creature I’ve ever seen. How are we going to catch him? And even if we do, where are we going to lock him up?”

Myrtha lifted her chin. “I have never faced a rogue vampire, but if we can save a poor woman from a horrible fate, we will.”

Of course, she would say that. For her, it was a simple matter.

“Turning into a vampire is better than dying, isn’t it?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You’ve changed your tune. I thought you found vampires revolting. And we don’t know how we can catch a four-hundred-year-old vampire.”

She didn’t flinch. “I’m sure Darius will find a solution. He’s the most powerful wizard in the kingdom, after all.”

First the hug and now praise. We fell silent, showing matching expressions of shock.

“Well.” Darius coughed into his fist, flushing red. “Let’s start by carrying Lucy’s body here.”

“Here?” Myrtha knit her eyebrows. “Why not Raven Hall? It’s more suitable. By the way, why was the footman frightened?”

“Carabosse performed a spell,” Darius said, “and now the mansion is surrounded by giant snakes and pea-soup fog that squeezes you.”

Myrtha shot her gaze towards the ceiling. “What did I tell you, Irene? It’s always up to us women to sort out the mess created by men.”

I scowled although she was right about this particular matter. “We’d better leave for the Moon Court now.”

21

A BRAWL

Alex

When we arrived in Whitechapel, a brawl was going on right in front of the alley leading to Lucy’s house. Graves was fighting with Knight while the other werewolves caused general havoc, howling or growling. Werewolves were easily excited, and nothing excited them more than a fight to the point that they didn’t think clearly. It was a miracle their species wasn’t extinct.

Punches were thrown, and doors and windows were smashed. Passersby shouted and scurried away from the fray. The smell of werewolf blood—pungent and tangy—clung to my clothes. The thirst didn’t rear its head, so unappealing the blood was.

“Stop this!” I tried to regain my commanding tone, but I hadn’t recovered yet from my ordeal.

“Graves! Stop!” Darius radiated a faint light, but nothing else happened.

Myrtha and Irene exchanged a glance before focusing on the large brawl. A wave of energy erupted from them. Or rather, the energy radiated mostly from Irene. She’d grown skilled in using her wili power and controlling the radiance of her white light, not to attract attention. No humans lived in the part of Whitechapel that was the centre of the Moon Court, but Irene had been wise to control her outburst.

The two fighting werewolves fell to the ground with a smack as if shoved aside. Graves dropped to the cobbles. Knight was shaking his head as if to clear his mind.

Perhaps Myrtha wasn’t wrong about who sorted out a mess.