Chapter 13 Kit #3
Which, Kit supposed, was the case. Yet, he still couldn’t figure out the precise dynamics at play. “Would you be dead if Quin killed Conroy?” he asked Roxy.
“Correct. I also don’t want to face the wrath of a werewolf pack hellbent on revenge. A war between a pack and a nest only ends in bloodshed.” She gave a little shake of her head. “There’s so much mess to clean up afterwards.”
“So, you can’t be arsed with the drama, and that’s why we’re all going to kiss and make up?” Kit asked. Quin growled, and Kit patted him soothingly on the head. “Don’t worry,” he whispered into Quin’s large, furry ear, “I’m not interested in kissing anyone but you.”
Quin chuffed.
Roxy gave Kit an approving smile. “Now we agree. And to prevent us from revisiting this issue again next month, I’ll have you all swear an oath under the moon just to be sure.”
Kit looked up at the clouds. There was no moon in sight.
Maybe she meant metaphorically. But then Xavier raised a hand up towards the sky, a pale purple amethyst ring glowing on his middle finger.
With a few muttered words that Kit didn’t understand, the clouds parted above them.
The field became bathed in moonlight, everyone’s forms limned in silver.
Quin lifted his head and howled, as if he couldn’t resist the call of the moon. Kit was tempted to join him in his song. Pressed close to Quin, Kit shivered as he felt the vibrations through his entire body.
“Ah, a good reminder that the werewolf can’t speak in his current form,” Roxy said. “Blood vow it is.”
Kit held up a bloodied hand. The cuts from Conroy’s talons hadn’t quite closed over, though they had healed considerably well. “Will this do?” He needed to see to Quin’s injuries.
“Fresh blood, freely given, I’m afraid,” Roxy said.
A silver blade appeared from nowhere, landing neatly in Xavier’s hand as if by, well, magic. Quin pushed himself between them as Xavier moved closer to Kit. A flash of heat speared through him at Quin’s protective instincts.
“Come on, little one,” Xavier said, gesturing with the knife.
Kit bristled at the use of the overfamiliar pet name. He didn’t complain, satisfying himself with glaring at Xavier. Quin rumbled with discontent, like dangerously close thunder.
“I won’t harm him, werewolf,” Xavier said, sounding amused.
“That’s not what you said five minutes ago,” Kit snipped.
“I was trying to de-escalate the situation. Now, both of you, hands.” Xavier tilted his head. “Or paw, I suppose, in the werewolf’s case.”
Roxy was doing the same with Conroy, Tati and Kezia, the last of whom was now looking less like an abused Barbie doll and more like someone that could stand on her own two feet again.
Before submitting to Xavier’s request, Kit watched Roxy take blood from each of them, coating her knife that was the twin to Xavier’s blade.
“Hmm,” Xavier said, his nostrils flaring. “What’s that awful smell?”
Kit winced. “They shot Quin with silver.”
Xavier frowned, glancing at his knife and then at Quin. “Tainted blood will ruin the vow.”
“Are you able to heal him?” Kit asked hopefully.
“I suppose I must.”
Quin growled unhappily, but let Xavier come closer and placed an elegant hand on his flank.
Kit braced himself, ready for Xavier to do anything other than what he’d promised.
But all it took was a few uttered words and a flash of blue where Xavier’s sapphire ring glowed unnaturally bright. “All done,” he said, stepping back.
The grazes were still there when Kit inspected Quin, but the scent of his blood was back to its normal black pepper and cloves. “Does it feel better?” Kit asked.
Quin nodded to Kit, his massive head bobbing in a way that was so like how he did as a man that it made Kit smile fondly.
“Thank you,” Kit said to Xavier.
Xavier brandished his knife at them. “Vow time.”
A couple of quick slices later, and Kit was licking at the cut just above the pad of Quin’s paw. Kit didn’t care that the other vampires were looking at him with disgust—he was far too busy enjoying the taste of his werewolf.
Xavier went to meet with Roxy, and the two of them held the knives between their joined hands.
“From now on, none of you will do violence against each other,” Roxy said.
“What happens if one of us tries it?” Kit asked, wondering if he might have agreed to something he shouldn’t have.
Roxy smiled serenely. “Find out if you dare.”
Kit didn’t dare. The witches had the rest of them at their mercy. “We’re leaving,” Kit said. “Conroy, you can fuck off back to St Andrews.”
Without waiting for Conroy to retort, Kit jerked his head at Quin. They ran off together into the night, both of them limping and hurt, but more importantly, alive. As alive as Kit could be considered, anyway.
They spent their time until right before daybreak lying on a blanket that Quin had set up in their patch of forest. Quin’s larger body curled around Kit’s like a furry barrier to the outside world. Neither of them relaxed fully, but Kit was, for that moment, feeling safe once more.