Thicker than Water (Fangs and Feuds #1)

Do whatever you have to do

DO WHATEVER YOU HAVE TO DO

Amara

I have to drag myself out of bed the next morning. After my encounter with that vampire, the last thing I want to do is go back to the Succumb club.

“Good morning,” says a curt voice from the sill of my open window. “Or should I say, good afternoon?”

I check my watch and groan. I’ve slept in way too late.

“You never used to sleep in like this at Hemlock Haven,” says Merlin, flying into my studio apartment and landing on the top of my desk. I converted it into a makeshift altar, laden with crystals, candles, jars of herbs, salt, and a dark, hand-held scrying mirror.

“This gig has really ruined my circadian rhythm,” I say, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Hopefully it won’t be too much longer,” Merlin says, pecking at the plate of cookies I left on my altar.

“Hey, those are for Hecate!”

“She won’t miss them,” he replies, gobbling up a raisin. “Besides, she should be happy that you’re putting your life on the line, in the name of her coven. I can’t believe you ever agreed to this.”

“Neither can I,” I sigh, rolling out of bed.

“You should be grateful to have an opportunity to serve Hecate,” says a stern, familiar voice. Merlin jumps in the air, squawking at the face that just appeared in my scrying mirror.

“Lavinia, you could at least ring first,” I grumble, pulling the silk hair cap from my head and picking up the mirror. The disapproving face of my High Priestess is reflected in the glass.

“Hi Amara!” says a cheerful voice. Callista’s face materializes beside Lavinia’s. “How is the mission going?”

“It’s…going. These vampires are even worse than you would think.” An image flashes in my mind of Celine staking that vampire right in front of me, and I have to suppress a shudder. It’s horrible, but it’s not relevant information for Lavinia or Callista to have. They already know how dangers my position is, and the consequences if the vampires catch me spying.

“Did you discover anything?” Lavinia asks.

“I think I saw Oana Ionescu,” I report. “She was coming out of one of the hotel rooms. #813, on the eighth floor.”

“Are you sure it was her?” asks Callista. “Wouldn’t she be underground?”

“I’m pretty sure. I went into the room and there was a ton of blood in the bathroom. It could have been another vampire, but I saw her red cape, and I’m fairly sure I recognize her.”

“Did you see her progeny?” Lavinia asks. “Young, long dark hair?”

“I didn’t see anyone with her.”

“Interesting.” Lavinia purses her lips. “Did you find out anything else?”

“Not really. One of Tudor’s progeny had a meeting with another vampire. I think their families are feuding. But it was difficult to make out what they were saying.”

“Was it Lazarus Gray? Or Cedric Ducharme?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t say. He was old, though. Very old.”

“Amara,” says Lavinia sternly. “We need to know exactly what Tudor and his progeny are planning. If they’re hiding Oana, that confirms our suspicions. They could be plotting against us, against the Triple Council! We have to be on high alert. We can’t allow them to make the first move.

“You’ve got to get closer to them. Ingratiate yourself. .”

I bite my lip. “I don’t know, Lavinia…”

“We can’t take any chances, Amara. Think of the peace we’ve built. Our young witches don’t have to be raised in a time of war and terror. They can live, study, and practice magic without fear of an oncoming attack. You are the reason they can be safe. You have to find out what those vampires are planning.”

Her words tug at my heartstrings.

“You’re right. You’re right,” I sigh, as the faces in the mirror fade away.

But it doesn’t make it any easier to pull on my silk red uniform.

Before I leave, I slip my wand up my sleeve.

I try not to feel resentful as I start my shift. Lavinia is right, it’s important to keep the peace and maybe this undercover mission is going to prevent more conflict and bloodshed. If I can discover what Tudor Thornblade and his progeny are up to, maybe we can stop it before anyone gets hurt. I think of the young witches in my coven: Naomi, Priya, June...I’ve known them since they were born. This is a small price to pay for their safety.

“Hey Amara,” says Nova, the security guard I met on my first day. They lean casually against the bar.

“Hi Nova, aren’t you supposed to be watching the door?”

“It’s fine, it’s a slow night.”

I’m glad to have someone to chat with. I pour them a whiskey neat, their drink of choice. Then I pour a glass of red wine for myself. At least this workplace is pretty relaxed. I hate to see a nice vintage go to waste. Nobody ever orders wine down here.

“How are you finding things so far?” they ask.

“Well, it’s not like anywhere else I’ve ever worked,” I reply, taking a sip from my glass.

They chuckle. “I hear that.”

A small group of women come up to the bar, already a little bit tipsy by the look of them.

“We’ll have three champs ellie’s-says ,” one of them says. I can’t tell if her words are slurring or if she just doesn’t know what she’s saying.

“A what ?” I ask.

“A chomps ally’s-says,” she repeats confidently.

I stare at her blankly. Nova watches the scene, looking amused. Then it clicks.

“Do you mean la Champs-élysées ?” I ask. “Like the street in Paris?”

“Exactly!” she says. “Can you make us three?”

I eye her skeptically. “Is that even a drink?”

“Yes, it’s all over DrinkTok!”

“It’s all over where ?”

“Just bring them over there,” she says impatiently, pointing toward a seat up on the balcony. Her and her two companions make their toward the stairs, stumbling precariously on their high heels.

Nova snorts. “Have fun with that one!”

“Do you know what a Champs-élysées is?” I ask, flipping through the battered copy of the Bartender’s Guide that I keep under the counter. “It’s definitely not in here.”

“I have no clue,” they say.

“Ugh, I’m screwed.”

“Why don’t you just look it up on your phone?”

I look at them quizzically. My phone? Are they suggesting that I call someone and ask them? I know that many non-witches have mobile phones nowadays, which they can carry around. But I never bothered to get one. Why would I, when I have a scrying mirror and a familiar? But I can’t give that away to Nova.

“Um, I…don’t have mine right now.”

“That’s all right, you can use mine,” they say. They pull a slim, shiny black box out of their pocket and hand it to me.

It’s surprisingly heavy, and it immediately lights up like a flashlight. It’s startlingly bright, like energy magic. I hold it limply, completely clueless about what I’m supposed to do with it.

Nova frowns. “Oh, are you an iPhone person?”

I have no idea what they’re saying, but I decide to go along with it. “Yep, I’m definitely an…iPhone person!”

They take the box back from me with a grin. “No worries, I can never get an Android to work either! Let me look it up for you.”

Holding the black box like a remote control, they use their thumbs to tap on the lights that appear on its surface. It’s got to be some sort of new device. I really need to keep up with technology better. Luckily, I don’t think I blew my cover.

Nova reads out the ingredients while I whip up the three drinks and put them on a tray.

“Nova, why aren’t you at the door?” shouts Xia from across the room .

“Whoops, gotta go!” Nova says, flashing me a smile. “Thanks for the whiskey, Amara!”

“Thanks for the help!”

I take the tray up to the second floor, where the women are seated around a table overlooking the dance floor below. They don’t bother to say thank you. They’re too busy holding what I now realize are their phones, although I still don’t understand why they’re making faces at them. I decide that I don’t want to know and I make my way back down the stairs. The bar is still fairly empty, so I move between the tables, taking glasses that have been discarded onto my tray. It saves a bit of work for the busboys, and I like to keep busy.

I quickly finish busing the standing tables and I move on to the booths that line the club. I pull aside the curtains of the first one on the right.

But this booth is occupied. I freeze, staring at the eldest of Tudor’s progeny, her fangs deep in the neck of a woman seated on her lap. A thin trail of blood travels down the woman’s collarbone and chest. The woman’s dress is undone and her round, full breasts are exposed. The vampire holds one in each hand, playing with her nipples. I feel mine harden in response, an instinct I wish I could override. I should have worn a bra today. The vampire’s eyes dart toward me, and travel across my thin silk shirt.

My breath catches in my throat as her eyes rise to meet mine. I swallow thickly, unable to break her gaze. I steel myself against an enchantment, but I don’t sense any magic being worked on me. Still, I find myself completely captivated. The woman moans, and there’s a powerful flutter in my stomach. What must it be like, to allow a vampire to drink from you?

Amara, what are you doing!?

I snap myself out of my trance and stumble backward, pulling the thick curtain back to conceal its occupants once more. On shaky legs, I return to the bar, where a line of guests has started to form. The other bartender shoots me an irritated look. I realize I left my tray on the table of the booth, but it’s too late to go back for it. And there’s no way I’m going anywhere near that vampire again.

I’m slightly flustered, so I chew a mint leaf to center myself. As I begin pouring drinks, I feel a bit calmer .

The music gets a little louder as the night progresses and the lights grow dimmer. I only have a few hours left in my shift.

“I’m going out for a smoke,” says the other bartender, opening the hinged counter door of the bar before I can even respond.

“Fine, I’ll cover it,” I sigh, taking a wine glass from the shelf to polish it.

“Need any help?”

The voice is low and smooth, like a coffin lid shutting closed. It’s Celine, seated on a barstool, surveying me through her heavy-lidded eyes. How are vampires so quiet ? I didn’t even sense her in my peripheral vision.

“No, I’m all right,” I reply.

She smiles at me. She wears a tight, long-sleeved lace shirt, with nothing underneath. It takes all of my mental effort to keep my eyes from the gentle curve of her waist…

“I can ask another bartender to step in,” she says, her eyes glinting purple. I don’t know if it’s the neon lights, or an ethereal power, reflected in them. “If you’d like to…”

“No, thank you,” I reply brusquely, setting down the polished glass on the shelf sharply, almost breaking the stem.

Her fangs protrude slightly from her gums, her lips curving. “I just thought, from the way you looked at me, that you might be interested…”

My heart almost stops. “Definitely not. I’m just doing my job, that’s all.”

“Suit yourself,” she says casually, watching as I pick up another glass with a quivering hand.

What is wrong with me? I’m usually so good under pressure. I took down the whole Arundel wolf shifter pack almost single-handedly. I’ve fought evil witches, dragon shifters…but this vampire looking at me is turning my legs to jelly.

She leans forward over the bar. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You can do whatever you want.”

“What are you doing working at a vampire club, if you don’t like vampires?”

I glare at her. Why are there no customers around? There were lines of people before, but now the bar is totally empty. Everyone gives Celine C?té a wide berth. Nobody wants to interrupt us. I find myself annoyed at her arrogance, at her unquestionable power.

“I need the job. Not like you would understand that.”

“You would be surprised what I understand.”

She’s so still. Like a sculpture made of ice. All of the hair on my arms stands up.

Lavinia would be so upset if she knew I was blowing this opportunity to get close to one of Tudor’s progeny. But I can’t do it. Despite the butterflies in my stomach and the strange, warm ache in my core…I can’t do it. I hate vampires. And I won’t let myself become enchanted by this one. Not even for my coven.

“I have to get back to work,” I snap, turning to the other side of the bar.