30. Iris
Iris
I’m all for respecting your elders. It’s a huge part of coven life, but if this sweet old grandma isn’t what she seems to be, I have my wand ready, pointed at her under the table.
Adam is clearly feeling uneasy and I don’t know why I do it, but I use my other hand to grab his and squeeze. We’re in this together and I’ve got his back.
Neither of us chose this fate, but we’ve chosen to be there for one another.
“Something to drink first?” his grandmother asks.
“No thanks,” I answer for the both of us and the older woman sighs, giving us a delicate nod.
“Our family used to be affluent, you know that? Our ancestors had a good life in Albania, next to damn near royalty, but we were cursed too. Nearly every generation, the eldest son would pass away. Usually in the records they would make up an excuse, sickness or some freak accident, but the family knew what they were doing. Every time a son was born, their fate was sealed. In order to keep our family’s status, there needed to be a sacrifice. ”
Adam holds my hand tighter and I gently rub his calloused knuckles with my thumb, giving him whatever reassurance I can.
“Until my great-grandfather made a stand. He left the home country and traveled to the Americas for a new life. He loved his son, and he wasn’t about to give him up, and so that’s where the family’s misfortune started.
We were thrusted into poverty for our lack of sacrifice, along with addiction and other horrible circumstances, but no matter what, we weren’t monsters. ”
“So then, how did my father end up knowing about this at all?” Adam questions, interrupting her story.
“He found the book as a child and became obsessed with our genealogy and wanted more for himself. My greatest hope was that he wouldn’t ever have children.
Honestly I think the only reason he ever had kids with your mother was for the sacrifice,” she says while wiping a tear from her eye.
“The day you were born, I stole the book and tried several ways to destroy it, but none of them worked.”
She twiddles her aging hands in front of us and swallows.
“I know it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but I thought…Well, I thought that maybe if I could find a vampire, they would know how to secure it. They’d have every reason to.”
“You went out searching for a vampire?” I gasp out and she gives me a small smile, her eyes crinkling.
“It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I told him I’d give him the book if he promised to never give it to anyone in our family. It seems vampires aren’t great about keeping promises.” She reaches out and squeezes Adam’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Adam.”
I want to believe this woman, and I even think she might be kind. But she raised a monster, and she knew what her son was like and she left children with them? I’m taking everything she says with a grain of salt.
Adam’s throat bobs, his fingers still laced with mine.
“Do you know the other families?” he asks, and she pulls her hand away from his.
“What?”
“Which families also have this curse?”
She shakes her head rapidly. “You don’t want to mess with them, Adam. They’ve never stopped sacrificing their eldest, and they have endless resources.”
“They’re after me and, even worse, they’re after Iris. You feel bad for all those years you hid away, leaving me with those people? For giving the book to the wrong person? I need those names.”
A tear falls down her aging cheek, but she gives us a nod, grabbing a pen and paper, her hand shaking as she writes out three family names. She folds the card and takes a deep breath.
“Is the Slayer listening?” she asks, not handing over the card just yet.
“Yes,” Adam says easily, in his own tone of voice, it’s easy to tell which one of them is in charge of the body by that alone, plus their personalities are very different.
She grabs Adam’s wrist, making him lean forward so she can whisper something in his ear, keeping me completely in the dark. In the process, she hands him the note with the family names and looks at us with sad eyes.
I realize that this woman thinks we’re as good as dead.
She’s ready for us to go. She’s told us all that she knows, except one thing.
“Do you know who gave your family the spell book in the beginning?” I ask her, and she shakes her head.
“No, it dates beyond any family record keeping.”
I squeeze Adam’s hand one last time before we scoot out of the booth and leave the RV. His grandmother gives us a forced smile, and it’s then I realize after all that emotional tension, I have to get back on that damn motorcycle.
“Come on, I’ll take you to one of my favorite places,” he says, helping me strap on the helmet. I hold on to him for dear life, even though deep down I know he’ll keep us safe. It’s also nice to be able to give comfort to each other through touch.
The whole ride I think about his grandmother’s story and the list of names that feels like it weighs a million pounds in Adam’s pocket.
Can I really do this? Be a part of murder? The theft and figuring out the destruction of the spell books are totally fine, but I think I need reassurance that the “vessels” of the opposing vampire slayers would actually be better off dead.
I’m too busy musing about what we need to do that I don’t even really pay attention to where Adam is going. I’m also not as fearful sitting on the back of the bike.
He pulls up and easily parks in front of this hole-in-the-wall shop.
It’s a relief to take the helmet off and be back on solid ground, but it’s weird not holding on to him anymore.
I slept so soundly last night, even with everything going on and I know without a doubt this is all a part of the mate bond, but what if it was something else too?
Adam holds open the door of the shop for me and as soon as we enter, an older man gives Adam a wide smile. The man is missing a few teeth, his skin weathered from years in the Louisiana sun, but there’s something about him that feels safe.
“I thought you’d gone and found another spot. Usual?” he asks, and Adam gives him a nod.
“What would you like?” Adam asks, and I approach the counter and look over the laminated menu. I go with the special shrimp po boy they offer.
Adam grabs us both some root beers and we take a small, weathered booth by the window. He tears apart his straw wrapper and I clear my throat.
“Are you going to tell me what she said to you?” I ask.
Adam sighs, running his hand through his hair.
“She said not to trust you,” he says, and I can’t help it when I reel back from his words, crossing my hands over my chest. Adam shakes his head, giving me a smirk.
It’s different from when the Slayer smirks and I hate that I can’t decide which one does it better.
“I think she knew you were a witch, but if there’s anyone I trust right now, it’s you. ”
I relax slightly, placing my hands on the table, and Adam immediately grabs them and squeezes.
“I mean it. I know you have your coven, and Scarlett too. The Slayer is obsessed with you and everything, but you’re all I got.”
With a thick swallow, I give his hand a squeeze right back. “We’re in this together,” I tell him softly.
He goes to say something else, but the shop owner brings our food out. I smile when I realize that Adam’s usual is exactly what I ordered.
“Alright, so, are we going to go over the list?” I ask Adam.
I’m not sure how much longer the Slayer intends to let him have control; honestly, I’m shocked that he’s still tucked away. It’s unsettling, but what’s even worse is I don’t know why it makes me so uncomfortable. Do I miss the Slayer?
Fuck…I do, don’t I?
Adam pulls out the list, flattening the paper on the table as we read the three names. Even glancing at the names, it’s easy to tell that they are a bunch of rich pricks.
James Maxwell III
Jesse Georgiev
Andrew Aaron Van Staden
“Shit,” I hiss and Adam looks at me with pinched brows.
“What?”
I point at James Maxwell III. “He’s the Mayor of New Orleans’ son. Nothing has been in the news about him being dead. In fact, I think he was photographed a few days ago,” I say, pulling out my phone and pulling up his name.
Sure enough, no death record, and he stands right there next to the mayor, looking mostly normal. He wears a button up dress shirt even in the heat and I have to imagine it’s hiding his marks.
These vampire slayers were higher profile than I realized. We screenshot his photo and move on to the other names. Jesse Georgiev is the slayer from the other night. He’s one of five children and is the son of a diamond mogul who lives in Texas.
Andrew Aaron Van Staden is the last one. His family are tech tycoons located out in California. Again, he isn’t listed as dead.
“My grandma wasn’t lying then. These families have adapted and use this all to their advantage,” Adam says, staring down at the images on my phone.
Adam jolts and I look at him curiously.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, seems like the images were enough to wake the Slayer up,” he says, and for the first time he doesn’t seem irritated by the matter.
“We’re going to need him.”
Adam’s eyes flash black, a grin on his face before it promptly disappears back to Adam’s normal features.
“I’m not sure what will be more difficult, taking them out or getting their summoning books first,” Adam says, scratching his jaw where a few days of stubble has grown out. Apparently Adam used to grow it out, but the Slayer hates facial hair.
“We should work on the books first. That way they can’t re-summon them again,” I say, pursing my lips. “I’m going to talk with my coven to see if there’s a way to destroy them.”
Adam sits a little straighter in his seat. “Your uh…coven. How will they feel about all of this?”
I give him a small smile, it’s obvious he’s worried about not being accepted.
“Considering my best friends are mated to shifters and vampires, I suppose it couldn’t get any weirder.”
Adam clears his throat, taking a sip of his drink. “So you’ll accept the Slayer as your mate?” It’s my turn to act coy as I shrug. “Because I guess we should talk about where that leaves me in all of this.”
I tilt my head and appraise Adam. His posture is all different from the Slayer’s. It’s an odd sensation, having a response to two people who share the same body, but are also so very different.
“Well, the Slayer said you thought I was beautiful,” I tease and watch his cheeks heat. “We’re in this together and no matter how hard I try to deny it, there’s this pull between us, between all of us. So, if you’re open, maybe this could be more than a friendship between us.”
Adam’s eyes go black, the Slayer taking over without a care in the world that we’re in public.
“My Iris, you truly mean this?”
I can’t help but to smile at the Slayer, happy that he’s making his presence known. I was genuinely worried about him.
“Yes, but that means all of us. Me, you, and Adam.”
He grimaces. “I do not want Adam,” he says staunchly. “He does not want me either. But we both agree that we would do anything for you.”
“Then that means we can see where this thing goes. Me with you and me with Adam.”
His eyes narrow, and he relaxes in the seat, taking up more space in that confident way that he does. “I agree to your terms, my sweet mate. Especially since Adam has proven he isn’t completely worthless by obtaining the names.”
I give him a pointed look and he shrugs.
“This means you two will need to come to an agreement, share time in the body, and work together. It’s all pointless unless we can figure this out, anyway.”
The Slayer is too quick as he reaches forward across the table, cupping my face.
“Nothing will take you away from me. No one will harm you. We should go back to your shop, where your wards are in place, while we strategize.”
I give him a quick nod, leaning into his touch. Why does it feel so good? His thumb rubs small circles on my skin.
I’m still not sure how I feel about the Slayer’s impulses, or what we have to do, but this tug in my chest toward him is something undeniable. Never in my life have I been this attracted to a man, or drawn to one.
Fate has brought us together. Even if I tried to avoid it, there’s no stopping it now.