Chapter 62
All’s Fair In Love And War
Karson was seated in an armchair, staring at the floorboards as if they spoke to him, whiskey in his hand. It was early to be drinking, even for him.
I hovered at the edge of the door. He would know I was here—he would smell me, or feel my presence—but he didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge me. With my mind, I looked to the speaker and ordered it to play. The first song we danced to filled the silence of the room.
“I’m not sure that’s playing fair,” he said to the floor.
“All’s fair in love and war.”
He looked up, taking me in as I walked over to him. Hurt flickered through his hazel eyes. Guilt flickered in mine. Loyalty was important to him, and from his point of view what I did was a betrayal.
“You’re angry,” I said.
“No … I’m disappointed,” he said.
That was worse, so much worse. I’d prefer anger. “I didn’t do it to betray you or upset you. I did it because I thought it would help put an end to this whole saga. I need a normal life back, you need a normal life back, we all need it.” I stopped in front of him, picking at my fingernails.
He appraised me like a sheep at slaughter. “Anything else you might want to add?”
He was dragging out my angst. “I’m sorry.”
He arched his brows. “Sorry that you went behind my back, or sorry you got caught?”
Really dragging it out. I folded my arms. “We knew we would get caught.”
He tossed back the rest of his whiskey, settling it on the bar. “I have kept this family safe for hundreds of years, and when you go against me, you don’t just put your life at risk but everyone else’s.”
“Nothing happened, everything went without a hitch.”
“Be that as it may, I am the leader for a reason, Amelia. And I cannot have anyone in my circle going against my wishes, especially when it comes to matters of safety.”
I scowled as I settled on the armchair nearest to his. “I have a brain. I’d like to be able to use it.”
“I value your counsel, Amelia, but in order to value it, I need to receive it first. Had you discussed the idea with me, I may have been open to it, or I may have explained to you exactly why it wasn’t a good idea.”
I didn’t know how to defend the indefensible, so I just sat there, monitoring his mood. He poured another whiskey, draining the decanter.
“You know, it’s not normal to drink at this hour of the morning. I could arrange a therapist for you, if you like?”
He glanced up, light flickering in the sheath of hazel like the sun off a grassy meadow. “Do you really think there is a therapist who could handle my life?”
Probably not. I moved to sit on his knee and crooned in his ear, “I can be your therapist, if you like.”
His lips moved in a hint of a smile. “You’re a very forward therapist.”
“I aim to please.” I nibbled on his earlobe. “How do you feel now, Mr. Worthington?”
He shivered. “Not quite over it.”
“Oh.” I kissed his neck. “How about now?”
“No, not yet.”
I unbuttoned his shirt and trailed my fingers over his chest and kissed his collarbone, then lower, running my lips and tongue over his nipples.
He let out a deep, buttery sound. “Getting better.”
I ran my fingers down to his groin. His hard groin. “Now?” I purred.
“You devious little witch,” he groaned. “You would use your erotic allure to wile your way back into my good graces?”
I smiled as I turned, swinging my thighs to either side of his legs so I was facing him. “Unashamedly.”
He chuckled. “Then I guess we should find more ways for me to forgive you.” He drizzled a finger over my breast, a thrill shooting through me as my nipple hardened.
“Oh dear, I’m sorry,” Mary said. I jerked back, my face heating. She had her head twisted away. “I just came to see if you need anything else before I head home for the day. I have a birthday lunch to attend, remember. Dinner is in the fridge ready for heating.”
Karson brushed my hair behind my ear and turned reluctantly to face her. “No, thank you, Mary.”
“I will see you both tomorrow morning, then.” Mary disappeared behind the door.
His hands cradled my hips as he sat forward. “Now, where were we?” His breath thick and hot on my neck.
“I believe,” I curled my fingers through the back of his hair, “we were just about to begin foreplay right before we commence vigorous make-up sex.”
“Make-up sex is always an exceedingly good idea,” he said, lifting me up by the hips and pulling me closer.
His lips fluttered over my neck and his fingers stroked between my thighs, sweeping agonizingly slowly up and down over my clitoris.
I closed my eyes, tipped my head back, and let out a breathy moan.
“Well, this is a miracle,” Monique said.
Startled, I jumped up, wriggling out of his arms. She was sitting on top of the piano, one leg bent up, eating an apple.
“Monique,” Karson ground out. “What do you want?”
“I came to commend Amy, actually. Normally, grumble-ass can take days or weeks to get over his little tantrums. Tell me, what spell did you use? You must share.”
“Yes, well.” Karson rose and strode to the bar, reaching for a fresh whiskey decanter. “I will forgive Amelia’s little indiscretion as she doesn’t know any better.” He turned back and said roughly, “You, on the other hand.”
She took a bite out of her apple and spoke around it. “Sarah will come out of hiding, everyone will go back to normal life, and you will thank us.”
“I do hate to interrupt,” Michael said, appearing at the door. “But it seems you’re not the only one a little perturbed about the image in the paper. Caron is here and she would like a word.”
Karson heaved a deep sigh. One I echoed. Could we not get five minutes alone around here?
Karson buttoned up his shirt as we entered the foyer.
Caron’s lips were thin, her blue eyes ice. Her black trench coat swished around her ankles as she stormed across the room. I eyed the large black duffle bag over her shoulder with caution.
“Of all the stupid, foolish things you could do,” she snapped. “Are you trying to get her killed?”
“Caron, such a lovely surprise to see you again so soon.” Karson smirked. Alluding to the fact that he had paid her a visit. She was still alive and uninjured, despite his fury; he had restrained himself.
She bared her teeth as she spat, “What the hell are you playing at?”
“What Amelia and I decide to do together is none of your concern.”
Caron tilted her chin up, her lips pulled so thin they disappeared. “It is my concern—she is part of my coven.”
Karson stilled, his eyes hardening like black gems. “I believe you lost all rights to her when you and your little coven of broom-riding hags handed her off to foster care.”
“I didn’t hand her off to foster care, and neither did anyone in my coven,” she snapped, but her hand flapped wildly as if he had her flustered.
“I told you, I don’t know who her parents are, nor who fostered her.
We don’t even know where she was born.” She retreated when she looked at me.
“I’m sorry, Amy. I have made some enquiries, but I have hit brick walls.
All your files have been lost or destroyed. ”
I snorted. “How did you know who I was, then, if you didn’t know anything about me?”
Caron blinked as if she didn’t expect me to ask that. “I got a call to say the wolf was back. We sent Dahlia to Church Heights, and it didn’t take her long to figure out what you were.”
I folded my arms. “I had my ring on, so how could she pick up what I was?”
“Dahlia heard you speaking about the wolf in the bar. The wolf will only allow itself to be seen by witches born to fight with it. Or its enemy before it tears their throat out.” Her gaze shifted between the vampires.
Were the enemies all vampires to the wolf? It didn’t attack them though, so maybe it knew the difference between friend and foe … My mind replayed the moment when I mentioned seeing the wolf to Matt, the local sheriff—Caron was telling the truth; Dahlia was sitting at the bar.
Giggles coming from upstairs drew everyone’s attention. Two scantily clad girls, carrying heels in one hand and clutching the rail in the other, walked down the stairs with all the skill of newborn foals. Both girls were plaster pale, their hair all over the place. I gaped. Their throats …
Their throats were covered in blood.
At the jugular vein, blood ran down from two distinct puncture marks.
I looked between Michael and Monique. Monique shrugged; Michael grimaced. Drawn by the scent of blood, Rodney came out from the sitting room, then leaned on the doorframe, his arms folded. If it wasn’t him, then who?
“Ethan,” Karson roared. When he didn’t appear immediately, he roared again, “Ethan!”
“What?” Ethan appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing an open silk robe and boxer shorts, his hair bedraggled, his eyes glassy.
“Clean. Up. Your. Mess!”
One of the women missed a step and almost fell. She dropped her shoes and watched as they bounced down the stairs. She slapped a hand over her mouth and they both giggled. As if falling down twenty steps would be a hell of a time.
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Keep your shirt on, it’s not like you haven’t done the same.” He staggered down the stairs. How drunk was he?
One girl stumbled sideways as she collected her heels off the floor and almost fell over.
“Wait just a moment, ladies. It appears we haven’t quite finished.”
The girls gave him wonky smiles and stared at him with glazed eyes, just like the girls Rodney had brought to the dinner party.
He cradled one head with all the tenderness of a lover.
Then he moved his lips to her neck and the sound of crunching a peach jolted my hearing.
She tilted her head back and gasped. Then she closed her eyes in some kind of erotic delirium.
His throat bobbled as he swallowed her blood, and then his tongue licked over the puncture marks and the blood on her neck.
By the time he pulled his head back, the puncture marks were gone.
I looked away as he did the same to the second woman.
He stepped back. “You can go now,” he said coldly, directing them with his palm toward the door. When neither girl moved, Ethan opened the door. “I haven’t got all day,” he drawled.
One walked out but the other hesitated. “Will you call me?” she whined.
“Bianca, sweetheart, by the time you get to the end of the driveway, you won’t even remember my name.” He used his hands to usher her out.
She turned back. “I’d really like to see you again—”
“I’m sure you would.” He snapped the door shut in her face. Then he looked straight at me, bitterness and a challenge in his eyes. Daring me to say something.
My heart began to thud, my breathing increasing as the heat climbed.
It was not the feeding that upset me. They had to feed to survive.
I knew what he was trying to do. He was showing me what Karson did when I wasn’t here.
He had made it clear many times that he didn’t want me to be with Karson, but drunk or not, this was just plain mean. I clenched my teeth.
The door opened moments later. Ethan snarled as he pivoted back. My heart stopped. The woman was about to see another, feral side of him.
Josh walked in and halted abruptly. “Um, nice to see you too, Ethan,” he said mildly. “I take it the two drugged-up girls staggering down the drive belong with you?”
“Joshua,” Ethan crooned. “You almost lost your head.”
Josh forced a smile as he scanned the room, his head tilting as he picked up on the tension you could cut with a blade.
Caron’s eyes flew to mine. “Don’t you see what they are, Amy. They’re evil. You don’t belong with them. You belong with me, with your coven. We can protect you.”
Karson bristled. I leaned against his arm subtly to keep him calm. “The witches threw me out as if I never mattered. Now I get to decide where I belong.”
Caron snorted. “The witches didn’t throw you anywhere.”
“Given being born a witch is genetic, I’d say at least one witch did,” Karson said.
My birth mother. His words slammed hard. I shouldn’t care—I didn’t know her or what her circumstances were—but it still hurt.
“We have no idea where you come from. But we do want you with us,” Caron appealed.
To use me, to send me to battle to probably die for a cause I knew nothing about until six months ago. Not that I could say anything about that with Josh and Rodney in the room. But I could ask the question that had plagued me.
“My adoptive parents, they knew what I was. Are they witches?”
“Your father is not, but your mother, she was what the world calls a medium. She was highly gifted in speaking to the dead, and she used her skills to solve crimes that otherwise would have been unsolvable.”
My heart tightened like a noose was wrapped around it and being pulled. My mother was a good person. She used her skills to help the world and she was a loving mother. She taught me to trust, she taught me I was loveable.
My father was stoic. To him, the world was black and white. Did my father know what we both were? Silence fell over the room and all I could hear were the questions pounding in my head. Karson’s hand slipped to the small of my back, his touch a comfort.
“Does my father know what I am?”
“I’m not sure, I’ve never spoken to him,” she said gently. “But I could find out.”
“Speaking of finding out.” Ethan stepped into her space. “If I find out you knew about what Amy went through and did nothing.” He grazed a bloody knuckle down her cheek and leaned in and whispered, “You better run.”
Caron slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
“Actually, running isn’t the best idea with vampires.” Josh stalked across the room. “When people run, we struggle to contain the urge to kill. It’s a predatory thing.”
Caron’s eyes cut to him. If she had a match, she’d set him on fire. She dragged her gaze back to me. “How can you not see it, Amy? Witches are not the bad guys.”
“From my experience, I’d say they are.” Josh picked at a claw on his hand. A claw. I knew my friend well enough to know it was an act. His way of showing support for the vampires in the room. His family now. My family too.
Rodney straightened. “As both a witch and vampire, I’d suggest you get out, Caron, before I show you just how evil I can be.” The air became decidedly colder.
Caron knew when she was outnumbered and outmatched, invisibility cloak or not. “You know where to find us,” she said to me, then spun on her heel, her cloak floating behind her as she disappeared out of the door.