29. Auras and Blood
AURAS AND BLOOD
Irene
The idea of Sean being a supernatural creature filled me with dread. Finding him was already difficult without the added problem of his having special powers, and I wasn’t strong enough to fight a wizard.
Sitting on a bench, I practised catching auras in the garden where Graves was chopping wood and Myrtha was talking with the housekeeper. The gardeners were spread around, trimming bushes and pulling weeds.
Graves swung the axe over his shoulder and strode to me, his aura reddening. “What are you staring at? You’ve been looking at me for a while.”
Oh dear. I straightened. “I’m practising reading your aura.”
“You’re a soul searcher.” He scratched his stubble. “And what does my aura look like?”
“Well…there’s a lot of anger, and I can feel your curiosity towards me.”
He arched his brow. “Quite correct.”
“Why are you so angry? Why all the resentment towards Knight?”
I thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he exhaled, his expression softening. Even his aura became less scarlet.
“My father was the alpha of the Whitechapel clan, well, the duke.”
“Goodness. I had no idea.” I understood why he found his life in the Dark Court difficult.
“My father was a good man, but he didn’t understand business.” He paused. “Am I boring you?”
“Not at all. Please continue.” Learning what had happened to him would help me interpret his aura better.
“A few bad investments ruined us and the entire court.” Burnt-orange shame flashed through his halo.
“When Knight attacked us, it was a bloodbath. My father was killed. My sister, Lucy, was kicked out of her home. Knight spared me because he said he’d won and that was enough.
And I’m here. Useless.” There was a long pause.
“I didn’t protect my father and my sister, and I can’t provide for her.
What kind of werewolf am I?” His voice was a whisper, and his sorrow reached my heart.
“I detect shame. A lot of it. You should forgive yourself. You can’t carry the weight of a war on your shoulders.”
“Would you forgive yourself if your father died because of you?”
That was a good point. I shook my head. “My father died because of me.”
Sympathy glowed around him with a lavender light. Not much, but it was there.
“May I ask you a favour?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“Can you convince the duke to help me get my house back? For my sister. I don’t care if I live here or somewhere else, but my sister should stay in the house where she grew up.”
“It’s very kind of you to think of your sister. But I’m not that important. The duke won’t listen to me.”
He narrowed his amber gaze. “You’re his favourite. He’s never taken a concubine.”
“Excuse me.” I balled a hand on my hip. It was only thanks to my education if I didn’t slap him. I could barely contain my anger. “I’m not his concubine!”
He shrugged. “If you prefer another term, it’s fine by me. But the substance stays the same.”
“I wasn’t clear enough. Ravenhill has never touched me.” That was true.
“I know he’s fussy about touching people and he gets angry when someone touches him, but I thought it was because he was eccentric and holier-than-thou.” Ash-grey confusion speared through his aura. “But he doesn’t touch you? Why?”
Dash it. I might have said too much. I would never betray Alex and spill his secrets. “I think we’ve talked enough.”
“What is his problem? Does he have a condition? Is he deranged? Does he have manias?”
“He’s perfectly fine. Now, I’m sure you’re busy.”
After he lingered for a moment, he returned to his blasted wood, his aura a jumble of confused emotions. I understood Alex’s annoyance towards the werewolf, but I also understood Graves’s suspicion. Someone who didn’t know Alex as well as I did wouldn’t sympathise with his predicament.
I had to calm myself before releasing my power. Concubine my foot.
Cara came out of the house, wrapped in a dark cloak, and strode towards the gate as if on a mission.
Her aura was multicoloured like Darius’s and just as wide, spreading like fireworks. But something prevented me from digging deeper as if there were a barrier protecting her aura. She had nothing of the distraught woman sobbing in front of a grave.
When she walked past me, a little shiver slithered up my arms, and I lost my focus. Also, what had happened to Alex kept distracting me.
He’d been so frightened I’d feared his heart would have stopped, if that was possible for a vampire. In that moment, he hadn’t looked like the powerful, detached duke always in control, but like a scared man, alone in his agony.
Whatever had caused that reaction from him must have been a horrible experience. An experience he didn’t want to share.
If I relaxed and focused on one head, the aura changed colours, but aside from that, not much happened.
Darius was reading a book under the sycamore. His usual bright, multicoloured aura sparked. I followed the twists and turns of the golden tendril through the halo. The tendril vanished to reappear on the other side, like a bright snake.
The muscles in my neck hurt. I rubbed them before concentrating. The tendril twisted and darted, diving into the light. His halo froze, showing a blue glow shining close to his head. On the edge of the glow, the other colours shone and shifted as usual.
The motionless aura lasted a couple of seconds, and I had no idea what the colour meant, but a thrill made me squeal. That had to be the inner layer.
I rushed inside and up the stairs, eager to tell Alex about my progress. I knocked but didn’t wait for his reply.
“Alex, I—” I skidded to a stop.
His mouth was latched around the wrist of Fiona as she lay on his bed. My first thought was that he was hurting her, but no. She moaned and rolled her hips as he drank her blood without touching her.
The fact his bedroom looked like a cave added to the macabre atmosphere.
The huge four-poster bed was big enough for three people, and it was easy to imagine Alex sprawled on it.
The heavy blue drapes and domed ceiling turned the room dark.
And the brown carpet did nothing to brighten the atmosphere. A funeral home was more cheerful.
Our gazes locked.
His eyes were fully obsidian, and the hunger in them was unmistakable.
I couldn’t look away. The scene was both terrifying and enchanting. By the way Fiona bit her bottom lip and undulated on the bed, she was enjoying every second, and if the healing was anything to go by, the bite had to be ten times more pleasurable.
“Alexander.” She whispered his name in such an intimate way that a prick stung my chest.
I started to leave, but staring at me, Alex raised his head. He licked her wrist with long strokes of his tongue, which caused Fiona to cry out in pleasure.
Her back arched as she squeezed her thighs together. When he finished, he licked the last drops of blood from his lips.
Fiona sighed, slumping on the bed. She thrust her breasts out in an invitation he ignored.
“You may leave. Thank you.” The frost in his tone would chill the most passionate lover.
“You can take more.” She ran a sensual hand along her body.
“I have a guest.”
Fiona whipped her scorching gaze towards me. “And?”
“Thank you, Fiona.” Alex stood up, uncoiling his massive body.
Exhaling, she sat upright. Not a trace of the bite remained on her arm. She adjusted her gown and patted her hair, rising with elegance.
“The duke is all yours.” She brushed past me without a glance.
Not exactly.
“Irene.” The controlled duke had returned.
“Ahem…” Why had I come here in a hurry? Did I have a cut somewhere I could use as an excuse?
“Tell me.”
“You were rather cold with Fiona, considering she gave you her blood.” Of all the things I could have said, I chose the most inappropriate one. My face heated. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”
“The bite makes people feel aroused. Something similar to what you experienced but stronger. Fiona didn’t mean what she said. She’ll change her mind in two minutes. I might be a thief and a vampire, but I would never take advantage of the power of the bite.”
“That’s noble of you.”
“There’s nothing noble about me, not even my title.” He washed his face and hands at the washstand.
He scrubbed his skin with punishing intent. And I was staring again.
“I just wanted to tell you that I saw Darius’s deep aura.”
A corner of his mouth quirked up. “How was it?”
“The outside is wonderful, luminous, and multicoloured. The deep layer is blue, calm and solid. What does it mean?”
“That he’s a mage and a good man, I suppose. I can vouch for him.” He dried his face and hands. “We’re going out tonight.”
“Where?”
“The city. We’ll search for your first victim.”
All the enthusiasm from my small accomplishment evaporated. “I’ve barely started seeing the deep layers.”
“The sooner you kill, the stronger you’ll grow and the fewer the chances you fade.” He turned around as soon as he finished talking and stared at his reflection in the mirror. “I know you aren’t an assassin. I wasn’t a duke, but fate had another plan.”
I stepped deeper into the room, curious about what attracted his attention to the mirror.
I stood behind him. “What are you looking at?”
“Mirrors are gateways to the soul. Your reflection comes from within, so when you lose your soul, your image in a mirror disappears. Logan’s reflection started to blur last year. Then it became a vague halo.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “It might happen to me.”
“How do you lose your soul?”
“You become a slave to blood and kill only for the pleasure of drinking.” He clenched his jaw, tension snapping back into his body. “Your first kill will be easy. We find a target, I drain him, and you give him the finishing blow with my dagger.”
Cold slid down my neck. “Right.” I thought about my destroyed home and the bloodstain on the floor of the dining room, and my resolve grew. “I’ll do my best.”
“You’ll only have to wrap a hand around the hilt. I’ll stab him.”
I shivered. “It sounds…horrible anyway.”
“Do you want to find Sean and make him pay?”
“Yes, I do. I’ve always been understanding towards people, thanks to my ability to sense their feelings. But I’ve rarely received the same treatment, and Sean killed my father. I want to stop him.”
“I’ll be with you always.” The way he’d said that sounded as if he were talking about something more than catching Sean. He donned his gloves. “Let’s go.”