Chapter 6
There’s A Witch At The Door
Atap at the door drew our eyes up. “Sorry to interrupt.” Pixie’s voice sounded squeaky as she opened the door and peered in nervously. “There’s a black-haired witch at the door who would like to see Amy.”
Dahlia. How close by was she to get here so fast?
“Tell her she’s not interested,” Monique snapped.
Pixie grimaced, shifting from one foot to the other. “She’s … um … insisting.”
“I don’t care what the witch wants, tell her Amy isn’t interested in speaking to her.”
Pixie blurted, “She has Rolly with a sword to his throat and said she will decapitate him unless she sees Amy’s alive and well.”
Monique’s mouth dropped open, then shut again. “If Rolly is stupid enough to get captured by a witch, he deserves to lose his head.” There was no sympathy on her face for the soon-to-be-dead vampire.
I didn’t want to leave Karson’s side. I wanted to lie down beside him and hold him in my arms. I wanted to run my fingers over his skin and soothe his pain.
I wanted to protect him when he was so weak, so vulnerable.
I wanted to be there when he woke up, be the first face he saw, the first voice he heard.
But if Dahlia made good on her promise, a vampire was about to lose his head. The vampires would kill her—there would be a blood bath.
Fuck.
I glanced at Karson. He was out of it; death was still very much alive as it writhed under his skin. It would be a while before he woke up.
“It’s alright, I’ll speak to her.” I rose to my feet, ignoring Monique’s sharp look. “Stay by his side. I don’t want him left without protection.”
“The day I ever again allow you to tell me what to do,” she sneered, “is the day I’m a pile of ash, and even then, witch, I’d find a way to rise and choke your deceitful throat.”
Josh’s eyes widened as they darted between us. “The grounds are full of vampires guarding,” he said quickly. “Don’t worry about him, Amy, no one’s getting in.”
Monique’s coal eyes bored into him. “And yet, one single woman did get in.”
“I …” His face flushed. “Fair point, but I’m sure it’s only because they know who she is, and she probably took them by surprise.”
Monique’s jaw clenched. “A fucking elephant strolling through the yard would take most of those fools by surprise.”
“If it blew its trumpet, I think they’d find it,” Josh said, a dimple appearing in his cheek as he smiled.
The look Monique threw him was sharper than a blade. His smile crashed. “Tread very carefully, lowborn. Or you will find your head decorating the mantel.”
He held his palms up and squeaked, “No jokes, right, got it.”
“You think this is funny?” Monique looked heartbeats from acting on her promise. She indicated to Karson lying on the bed. “Any of this is funny?”
“No.” He shifted on his feet. “I mean … obviously not. Sorry, I tend to crack jokes when I’m nervous or upset, or you know, just because … you know … laughing is better than crying.”
I grabbed a leather jacket from the hook behind the door and slipped it on. “Josh, could you come and get me please if he wakes, or if there’s any change at all.”
He smiled tightly. “Yeah sure, of course.”
Dahlia was in the foyer, her sword pressed across the vampire’s throat, wearing black leathers as usual.
The vampire’s fists were curled by his side, his body stiff, and his eyes darted around the room.
Half a dozen other vampires stood around the edge of the foyer, tense.
Pixie let out a breath of relief when she saw me.
Leon had edged forward, his arms out in front of the vampires, stopping them from attacking. “Everyone just stay calm.”
“Let him go, Dahlia,” I called out as I strode along the hallway and down the stairs.
She looked up, her face losing its tightness. “I just needed to make sure you were okay. When you rang and then hung up, I thought something had happened.”
“Nothing has happened. I was up, and it was dark, and I accidentally bumped your name.”
She lowered her sword and shoved the vampire forward. He spun back and hissed, his nails sharpening into claws. The other vampires stepped closer, forming a wide arc. Except for Pixie; she grimaced and hung back.
Leon faced them all, holding up his palms. “He’s fine. Stay cool.”
Dahlia smirked, her eyes scanning the furious vampires, no fear on her face. “Oh, please try it. I’m itching to kill someone.”
“Not helping, Dahlia,” Leon muttered over his shoulder.
“No one try anything.” The door banged against the wall as Michael appeared, tucking a vial into his jacket pocket.
“We will not have any more bloodshed today.” His voice was calm and polished with a slight royal English accent that curled around every word.
Champagne to my ears. The same accent as Karson’s.
Karson had the kind of voice that when whispered in ears, it made your pants wet. Whether from desire or fear depended entirely on his mood.
Michael was tall with brown hair, tanned skin, and a strong jawline, but in contrast he had soft lips and warm brown eyes. He was a full package of perfection. With the minor imperfection of the need to consume human blood to survive. You couldn’t have it all.
The vampires backed off. Not one would go against the orders of Michael. He was old and powerful, and if he decided to, he could take out everyone here. Although, I’d never seen him kill. Michael was a peacekeeper. The calm amongst Karson’s storms.
He also didn’t hate witches, unlike most of the others. “Lovely to see you, Dahlia. What brings you here at such an early hour?”
Dahlia sheathed her sword, and in the blink of an eye, it disappeared. “Amy rang. I came to make sure she’s alright.”
“I see. Well, why don’t you two catch up. I have some business to attend to.” He fixed his attention on the lingering vampires. “The rest of you get back to your stations.”
The vampires didn’t look happy, but they left immediately.
“Something to do with the dead vampires, I assume?” Dahlia placed her hands on her hips and called out to Michael’s retreating back.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Really? Because rumors spread faster than rats in a sewer in this town, and I heard Karson slaughtered over a dozen of Sarah’s men.”
“Dahlia,” Michael scoffed, “I never would have taken you as a gossiper. I’d have thought you have too much to accomplish in your own life to waste it burying your nose in the business of others.”
“I make it my business to know what’s going on with my enemies.”
Michael patted my arm as he passed me, leaned in, and murmured, “He’ll be fine, it will keep him sedated for the day.”
I swallowed and nodded my thanks.
“Then perhaps, Dahlia,” Michael called out as he moved, “consider getting your facts right at least before you spread your wayward mistruths around.”
“And yet, Michael,” she quipped, folding her arms, “you did say any more bloodshed today.”
“I did,” he sang out as he disappeared down the hall, “but I did not say whose blood was shed.”
I scowled at her. “You can’t just use violence to get in.”
Dahlia planted her feet shoulder-width apart and looked me up and down. “Oh, but I can, and I will if I need to see you. Answer your fucking phone next time!”
I rubbed my eyes, sore from lack of sleep and crying.
I wanted to get back to Karson, but Michael said he’d sleep for the day, and I needed to stop this madness.
Her behavior was unacceptable. Whether she cared because of what I was or because she liked me, I couldn’t say.
But she had come because she was worried.
I sighed. “Coffee?”
Her expression thawed. “Given the absurd hour you woke me, I won’t say no.”
We headed to the kitchen, and the light flicked on automatically, something Karson had installed for me.
“You look like shit, by the way.”
“Thank you.” I threw a false smile over my shoulder as I grabbed two cups. “It’s good to see you too.”
The stool grated as Dahlia pulled it out and sat down. “Have you been training?”
No. Now that Ethan was gone, I’d lost my training partner. I’d broached it with Karson, but he’d shut me down.
“No.” I slid a mug under the coffee machine. “Karson thinks I’m not healed enough yet.”
“You are healed enough, you know it and he knows it. Caron is a very powerful healer.” She folded her arms and rested them on the bench, her fingers running over a leather bracelet. “The vampire doesn’t want the witch who was born to protect the waters to train. How interesting.”
Hot coffee dripped into the cup, the scent of caffeine sliding up my nose and warming my stomach.
I turned around and kept my tone low. I doubted a vampire was hovering outside the door or the window.
I couldn’t feel their presence close by, just as Dahlia obviously couldn’t, but I’d prefer to be cautious.
Only a few people knew Sarah had stolen the grimoire. Dahlia wasn’t one of them.
“Karson doesn’t want those waters spelled any more than you do, Dahlia.”
I slid the cup across and passed her the sugar, then went to the fridge and handed her the milk. She poured it and heaped three teaspoons of sugar in. “You sure about that?”
“Of course I’m sure. What benefit would it be to him?” I slipped another mug under the machine and pressed the button.
“Oh, I don’t know.” The spoon clinked as she stirred. “To make someone immortal.”
Firstborns were the only ones with enough strength and power in their system to turn a human. Other vampires had tried to turn their loved ones, and all but a rare few had succeeded and the humans died in transition.
I scoffed, cradling the warm cup in my hands as I turned back to her. “He can already do that.”
“Not without turning them.” She stared at me pointedly. “Not without changing who they are.”
I stilled. Vampires retained a decent amount of who they were when they were sired, but it did change them. Things like empathy and compassion withered, while anger and disdain rose. The craving for blood overrode everything. The gentle became lethal.