Chapter 13 Shady History
SHADY HISTORY
My wolf pricked her ears.
Didi narrowed her eyes. “Such as?”
Barney lowered his brows, lost in thought for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was slow and measured.
“I wasn’t in Amberford when the Thornwicks were banished. I was dealing with family matters in Europe.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “But I knew Cordelia Thornwick. We crossed paths at various supernatural functions over the years.”
It was clear from the vampire’s expression that he hadn’t exactly been friends with the witch.
“What was she like?” I asked cautiously.
“Ambitious. Calculating. The kind of witch who smiled at you while planning your downfall.” Barney’s frown deepened.
“She was convinced her family had been cheated out of their rightful position. Her grandmother had contested the Lincoln matriarch for leadership of the Amberford covens decades earlier and lost. Cordelia never forgave that slight.”
“Sounds like she bore a serious grudge,” Samuel said quietly.
“An apt observation.” Barney’s mouth curved without humor. “She had a granddaughter. Esmeralda. Cordelia doted on that child. Used to parade her around at gatherings, boasting about how Esmeralda would one day lead not just the Thornwick coven, but all the covens in Amberford.”
“Do you know what happened to Cordelia?” Samuel asked. “After the exile?”
Barney shook his head. “For all intents and purposes, the family vanished completely. And no one has seen or heard from them in decades.” He paused, puzzlement creeping into his tone. “Which, given how thoroughly covens track magical signatures, is pretty remarkable.”
“What about the Marchefords?” Didi asked.
“They were simply pawns,” Barney said dismissively. “They weren’t the smartest of witch families to begin with and Cordelia manipulated them into participating in her scheme. When everything fell apart, they claimed ignorance and threw themselves on the mercy of the covens.”
I pondered this with a frown.
“The banned book and forbidden magic the Thornwicks used,” I said finally. “Could someone in Amberford be attempting to do the same thing again?”
Didi shot me a sharp look.
Barney stared. “Why do you ask?”
“Because of what we felt at the clinic on Maple Street,” I said quietly. “Didi said it was ancient magic.”
“Abby’s right,” Didi said, frowning. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”
Samuel’s unease hummed across the mate bond.
Gavin shuddered and Bo ate a cookie.
Barney’s expression had grown guarded once more.
“I can see why you would want to explore that as a possible avenue of investigation, but the tome the Thornwicks smuggled into Amberford isn’t one you would find lying around in any old bookstore,” he said carefully.
I blinked when I picked up on the subtle change in his smell.
“You know what the book was, don’t you?”
“Why would you think that?” Barney asked warily.
“Because your scent says you’re lying,” I said bluntly.
The surprised glance Samuel shot me told me he hadn’t picked up on the lie.
“I mean, anyone else, I would have said their pulse accelerated but you have, you know—” I trailed off with an awkward shrug.
“No pulse,” Gavin intervened helpfully.
“Thanks for the reminder.” Barney drummed his fingers on his armrest. “I thought I’d masked it quite well.” The vampire frowned. “Yes, I know what book they used. After all, my family has some rather unfortunate experience with such magic.”
We all grimaced as we recalled Ludvik and the Crimson Ascension ritual.
“Does that mean the Thornwicks had attempted something similar to what Ludvik was trying to do?” Samuel said warily.
“Similar in principle. Different in execution.” Barney pursued his lips. “The book they got their hands on was said to contain ancient knowledge about combining witch magic with vampiric abilities.”
Gavin puffed out smoke nervously.
“The theory was that such a merger would create power beyond anything the covens had seen. Power they could use in any way they wanted.” Barney’s voice hardened. “They were fools though. That kind of magic doesn’t just corrupt the user. It corrupts everything it touches.”
I thought about the dark, wounded feeling at the Lincoln sisters’ clinic and shivered.
“Could whoever took the Lincoln sisters have used the same magic?” I asked weakly.
Barney shook his head. “The specific text the Thornwicks used was destroyed. The covens all personally witnessed its destruction.”
“But it’s possible a copy exists, right?” Didi insisted.
“What she said,” I murmured.
The vampire rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“It’s not impossible,” he finally admitted.
A tense silence followed.
Bo broke it by licking his chops noisily after inhaling his fifth cookie.
“Humans sure go to a lot of trouble to show who’s the big boss.” The Husky scratched behind his ear. “Everyone could just share the kibble.”
“A refreshingly simple perspective,” Barney said solemnly while Didi rolled her eyes. “However, Amberford isn’t just any supernatural community. The families here hold considerable influence.”
I stared. “Why? It’s a small town.”
This earned me a collective ‘Look’, Gavin’s tinged with pity.
“Because of who founded it,” Didi said slowly, like she was talking to an idiot.
“Oh.” I blinked. “You mean Victoria’s great-great-grandmother? Elizabeth?”
Barney, Didi, and Gavin appeared distinctively uncomfortable at the mention of the Hawthorne matriarch. Theirs was a relationship built on mutual tolerance and the unspoken agreement to never be in the same room longer than absolutely necessary.
As for Elizabeth Rochester Hawthorne, she was the white luna who had united the supernatural factions during the Shadow War.
“The most powerful warriors who fought alongside Elizabeth settled in and around Amberford after the war,” Barney explained.
“They became the founding families, essentially. The Hawthornes. The Holts. The Tremaines. Others.” His lip curled.
“Their descendants carry influential bloodlines, though I must say many of them have become rather diluted over the generations.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Diluted how?”
“Not everyone inherited their ancestors’ intelligence along with their power,” Barney replied coldly. “Some of them are barely competent enough to dress themselves in the morning, although this can be said of a few of the original forefathers.”
Bo wagged his tail. “That’s savage. I like it.”
I grimaced. There was some decidedly unresolved ancient history there and I suspected Count de Vile and some of the vampires we’d met at Lord Chudwell’s disastrous funeral had something to do with it.
Samuel steered us back on topic.
“The point is, anyone who controls Amberford’s covens has significant influence over the supernatural community on the entire East Coast.” My alpha frowned.
“The Lincoln sisters understood this. After all, their family spent generations building alliances and maintaining a careful balance of powers.”
“And now, it seems somebody wants to upset that balance,” Didi said sourly.
A tense hush followed.
“Is there anyone in Amberford who might know more about this type of magic?” I finally asked Barney. “Someone who’s maybe studied those texts or similar books?”
Barney hesitated.
“There is one person,” the vampire admitted. “A man with an extensive library of rare occult tomes and a peculiar interest in unusual magical practices. You know him, actually.”
“Wait.” Samuel narrowed his eyes. “You don’t mean—”
“Arthur Holt.” Barney nodded. “He’s spent years collecting obscure texts and artifacts. If anyone knows about the kind of magic the Thornwicks were attempting, it would be him.”
Arthur Holt had spent a decade trapped in the ley lines beneath his own mansion before emerging naked at the Holt ball in one of the most memorable moments of my albeit short supernatural career.
“Will he talk to us?” Gavin asked.
Samuel leveled a steady gaze at me. “He owes you a favor. Maybe it’s time to collect.”
We left Barney’s place shortly and piled into the Bentley. I pulled out my phone while Samuel started the engine and pulled away from the house.
“I’ll text Lauren and ask if she can set up a meeting with Marcus’s father.”
“We’re really going to the creepy forest mansion?” Bo asked hesitantly.
“Probably.” I studied him in the rearview mirror. “What happened to your enthusiasm about this mission?”
Bo’s ears drooped. “It stops at creepy forest mansions.” Hope brightened his face. “Do you think they’ll have cookies?”
I frowned at him over my shoulder. “You are going on a diet, mister.”
Bo made a shocked sound, his eyes rounding to the size of golf balls.
Samuel muttered, “About time,” under his breath.
Gavin gave the Husky a sympathetic look and patted his shoulder.