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Eli took my hand, and I realized I was trembling. Both my witch anddraugrgenetics were standing before me. She was my ancestor, and I needed no necromancy to ask her questions.
“So, Darius knew about my mother because of you,” I clarified. “Because you were a witch.”
“I am still a witch, Geneviève.” Beatrice sighed. “Sometimes when you’re powerful, people want that power or simply want to end your life because of it, more so if you are a woman. More so when you are a Jew. Their hatred of us has changed over time, but only slowly.”
I didn’t ask if by “us” she meant hatred of witches, women, or Jews. Historically—and now--all three earned violence for the sheer act of living. We were scapegoated, murdered, and despised. Addingdraugrto the list probably had changed very little for Beatrice—or for me.
“I don’t like you,” I pointed out. “But not because of any of those things.”
“You dislike me because I am adraugr.” Beatrice shrugged. “How is it different than hating me for the other things?”
“I don’thateyou,” I stressed. “I just don’t like anything that tries to bite me.”
“I shall remember that next time I am called to save your life.” Her voice held all the laughter she didn’t show in her expression. “But I do doubt that Lauren would agree that you ought to hate me for such a thing.”
Beatrice walked away, staring into the edge of her moat, and I was left with very few options. Did I apologize to my dead ancestor? Or did I simply acknowledge my bias?
I hated being an adult.
I released Eli’s hand and followed her.
“I may have . . . issues withdraugrbecause of my father.” I stood beside her and stared at the alligator filled canal. There were a lot of gators there. “He wanted to, err, breed me to as manydraugras he could. Use me . ..whether or not I consented.”
She nodded. “They attempted that with me several centuries ago. It was how I died.”
Her voice was calm, but she let me see inside her mind. A human Beatrice. A captive Beatrice. A group ofdraugr.She fought them—and lost.
“I killed them slowly,” she said, shrugging as if it was no significant feat. “When I regained my senses, I killed every one of them.” She shrugged again. “And now I am queen.”
I thought she was insanely fucking strong to turn her rage into power. Beatrice was old; the sort of old that meant my bones ached at the chill she radiated. When she died, dust and air would be all that remained of her, so her assault was longer ago than I could fathom. Her rage was still vibrant, and her pride at avenging herself was burning bright.
I met her eyes and said, “Fine. I like you some.”
And she laughed, peals of joyous laughter as we stared at the alligators.
Then she leaned in and whispered, “The pigs were men once, granddaughter. I tolerate no man injuring me or what’s mine.” She glanced behind us to where Eli stood calmly watching the fire and us. Then Beatrice said, “He seems to care deeply for you. Fae blood is more nourishing, but if he hurts you . . . I will not forgive that. Had you not killed Darius, I would have. Once I discovered what he’d done, I was not pleased. I did not live here then. If I had . . .”
Just to be clear, I said, “You came here because of my mother.”
“And you.”
In a tone as close to Eli’s calm as I could manage, I said, “Eli is mine, Beatrice. To hurt him is to enrageme.” I touched her wrist. “Blood matters. I am grateful that you care for Mama Lauren, but . . . do not ever threaten my family or friends, or I will find a way to sever your head.”
Beatrice kissed my forehead. “I am grateful to know you, granddaughter.” Then sheflowedtoward her castle. Her voice drifted back, filling the courtyard in an echoing sound. “There will be a dinner to celebrate my granddaughter’s betrothal to the crown price ofElphame. Hear and be welcome.”
I shuddered at the realization that her magic was undoubtedly carrying that invitation todraugrin her queendom.
Eli looked at me and said, “This job of hers will complicate things, Geneviève.”
And my few weeks of relative calm ended. I felt it as surely as a warning knell. I was engaged to the heir ofElphame’s throne, with whom I’d made a faery bargain, and now declared family to the queen of thedraugr,for whom I was ferreting out a threat.The holidays were no longer simply about irritation over dresses and random witch-haters who shot at me.
“Probably,” I admitted. “But complication is what we do. Nothing is ever simple.”
I took his arm and walked through the passageway of Beatrice’s castle. No one stopped us. No one did anything other than open doors and bow deeply. Now that Beatrice had made her little proclamation, all eyes were going to be watching us.
Chapter Five
In the spanof one night, I’d agreed to a Yule Ball inElphameand an “early Yule” party with thedraugrqueen.
