Page 78 of Quintus

“I’ve got it. Thought it best to keep it, since they’re bonded. We didn’t want to risk having something happen to Gabby through Quint.”

Hunter reached inside his leather jacket and retrieved a red-checked handkerchief. He carefully set it on the table, unrolling the fabric.

As he revealed the bone, Quintus noted Gabriella’s body straighten, her back muscles tensing under his fingertips. Her eyes widened at the sight of it.

“You okay, si, bella?” he asked, circling her back with the palm of his hand.

“Yes…it’s just, there’s something about it.”

“May I?” Samantha reached for it, her fingers brushing over the stone as Quintus nodded. “It looks like a knife.”

“It’s a sternum,” Quintus told her. “It looks like a blade, but the bone is thin. It could easily break.”

“It’s inconspicuous. It was easier to hide than other bones.” Samantha held the artifact.

“Unless it’s got some special mojo, it can’t be made into a traditional weapon,” Quintus said.

“I’ve only been doing this for a little while now. I’m sure Ilsbeth would have the answers but mine is more like a best guess based upon my current knowledge of the situation. This bone here.” She held it up to the air, carefully inspecting it. “My gut feeling is that it must be ingested. So maybe it’s ground into a powder and blown into the face, breathed by its victim. Or ground and used as a poison. I’m going to need more time to research to be sure. I think for now…if I could have it…”

“I feel something,” Gabriella said, her voice shaken.

“Maybe just half of it,” Samantha suggested.

Quintus heard the rumble of the wind, the clouds darkening. “Maybe we ought to hang onto it?”

“I really think…” Samantha began but went silent as the sky erupted.

Quintus snapped to his feet as his brother appeared in the garden. His face pale and bruised, he’d been beaten. Before Quintus had a chance to speak, Viktor shouted, a hint of fear flickering in his eyes.

Mao.

Chapter Twelve

Gabriella’s mother had been the only kind witch she’d known. Yet Samantha spoke to her as if she were family, a fellow sister practicing magick. She guessed the witch was about her same age, but her words held the wisdom of elders. Within their home, Gabriella had felt safe, and her heart bloomed in warmth, listening to Samantha gush over Luca and baby Kate.

Home. Goddess, it had been so many years since she’d been in a safe place, where the scent of home-baked cookies lingered in the air. As Samantha described her coven, Gabriella watched the female vampire play with the child. Laughter and bubbles. A father lost in the joy of his daughter.

A thread of guilt twisted through Gabriella. She’d been afraid of vampires ever since she’d stepped into her first blood club. Keeping her head down, she simply sold her blood, steering clear of the vampires. On the rare occasions she’d interacted, they’d proven dangerous, with little regard for others.

Although this group of vampires had initially challenged Quintus, they’d exhibited a great level of trust, bringing them into their inner sanctum. These people were his sired family. As Quintus spoke to Léopold, her heart broke for him. She sensed the regret, aware that crushing grief and danger had kept him from mentoring the French vampire. Like many fathers and sons, they cared for each other yet lacked the communication needed to mend old wounds.

Gabriella struggled to concentrate on the conversation as the darkened clouds congregated above. No, no, no. She prayed Lilitu hadn’t found them. Her racing thoughts screeched to a halt as Viktor materialized before them. The suave vampire had been beaten, his clothes torn. He held out an arm, warning them away.

“Get Gabby out of here,” Viktor yelled.

Gabriella sucked a breath as Mao materialized in the courtyard, her eyes glazed over in an orange haze. Her beast went on alert, dark magick swirling around her.

“Quintus, darling.” Mao’s sickening sweet voice trilled, blood dripping from four-inch talons extending from her fingertips. “I want the she-wolf.”

“I’m sending you back to Hell.” Quintus stepped out of the gazebo, shielding Gabriella from her.

“You belong to me,” she insisted.

“Mao’s dead. And you’re going to be too.”

“I want the girl.”

With all focus on Mao, Gabriella’s stomach flipped as the familiar energy of Lilitu jolted through her. She jumped to her feet, staring up into the sky. “Goddess, no.”