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That last bit was a bald-faced lie—well, about the vampire stuff, anyway. Wanda was still technically a Blood Witch, though some magical shenaniganry had given Lorcan his Kiss back, which meant he wasn’t driven to kill Wanda to get it back. They’d managed to trick the broader magical community into thinking she was a fully blooded vampire. It helped that said shenaniganry had resulted in her needing to drink at least a little bit of blood. Which was gross, but something I’d gotten used to by now.
“She was turned?” Elly repeated, eyes wide, lips parted in horror. “Against her will? Shouldn’t that have kicked off another blood war?”
I nodded. “It was close. My mother allegedly smote Rupert for it, so the Grimsbanes and the Thornes eventually judged it to be even. But yeah, it was tense for a while.”
Which was another whopper of a lie. It had been my big brother, Maverick, who’d called down lightning to fry Rupert, not my mother. Maverick had become a Blood Warlock, one of the most unstable blooded creatures yet and his abilities were showing themselves in very powerful ways. In the end, though, Wanda was safe. The Hollow was safe. So, there was no need to rock the boat with the truth.
Oleander whistled and shook his head. “Ooh boy, sounds like Coven Gossip 101.”
Elly let out a soft sigh as she looked at me. “You’re going to have a time of it here, Astrid.”
I frowned. “Why’s that?”
“Because it seems like the witches aren’t going to befriend you.”
“Right, I already figured that much.”
She nodded. “But you’ve also got to watch your back where the vampires are concerned.”
“Why’s that?” I asked, curious.
She shrugged. “At Blood Rose, the covens and clans hate each other.”
“That doesn’t really sound so different than the real world.”
“It’s different,” Elly insisted, nodding. “It’s much worse here.”
“Why?” I asked.
Oleander was the one who answered. “Because the original families have been trapped together in this one place for centuries. It’s a powder keg of resentment and barely contained violence. If one of the hostages dies, game over. Blood War three will kick off with a bang.”
“Hostages?” I repeated, frowning at both of them because it sounded like they were talking about the plot of a movie, not my new school. “What do you mean, ‘hostages?’”
“Um… don’t you know all this?” Oleander asked, frowning at me.
“Obviously not,” I grumbled in response.
“Don’t be a jerk, Ollie,” Elly said as she leaned over and elbowed him and he gave her a quick smile. Then he turned back to me.
“Okay, Blood Rose Academy History lesson recap: the original families that started the feud that led to the blood wars between the vamps and the witches had to exchange prisoners,” Oleander explained, tossing more peels into the trash. “It’s a way to keep both sides honest. Anytime a blood war breaks out, a hostage dies. The last several blood wards were more like skirmishes, though, not actual wars. There have only been two of those skirmishes, and they’re always resolved by people coming here.”
“Coming here?” I repeated.
Elly nodded. “Yeah, this place is like consecrated ground—neutral for both sides.”
“The first skirmish was settled by a treaty where both the covens and the clans first agreed to trade members of their respective families,” Oleander continued. “The original set of hostages were executed when Blood War Two kicked off. Now there are new hostages.”
“Do you know who they are?” I asked, amazed with all this information as I’d never heard anything about it.
Oleander nodded. “The witch that was picked eventually killed herself, so her sister, Morgana Grimsbane, was slotted into her place. The vampire hostage remained the same. His name is Chesley Thorne.”
“That’s awful,” I muttered, sliding my potato over to be diced by Elly. “Those poor people...”
Oleander gave me the side-eye again. He clearly wasn’t used to a witch expressing anything but disdain. Compassion was pretty much utterly alien to most witches. I tried not to feel insulted by his reaction. I knew what sort of people witches usually were. Snooty, self-aggrandizing, backbiting bitches.
“It is awful,” he agreed.
“But necessary,” Elly put in.
