Chapter 2
2
Amir
I summon a glass goblet into my outstretched palm. It feels familiar, something I’ve held for millennia. Stepping closer to the man, I inspect the goblet. It’s not the type of flimsy wine glass humans use nowadays—a reminder that I am out of my time. But it will have to do. This is the only cup I’ve drunk from since before my centuries-long slumber.
The memory of feeding on the Master Coven flashes in my mind, and I shake my head.
“Please! Whatever she told you, it’s a lie!” His pathetic begging amuses me. I shift my free hand into sharp, curved claws and with a quick swipe, I cut his wrist. The warm, red liquid spills out, and I hold my goblet to his open wound, filling it with his blood.
The scent of family interrupts my feast. The doors to the diner swing open, and I recognize her immediately.
“Wait,” I say, holding up a finger to silence the approaching footsteps. I’m not done with this vermin yet. Dave’s eyes are wild with terror now, darting between me and the door, hoping for salvation that won’t come.
“You know why I’m here,” I say, circling him slowly. “Tell me about that night. Tell me about Anora.” My voice is deceptively soft, almost gentle. Sometimes the greatest terror comes from kindness before cruelty.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” His voice cracks, the lie bitter on his tongue. I can smell the deception, taste it in the air like rancid wine.
“No?” I move closer, letting him feel my breath on his neck. “Then why does your heart race when I say her name? Anora.” I draw out each syllable, watching him flinch. “You see, I’ve been asleep for a very long time, Dave. I’ve missed so much. But do you know what woke me?” I trace a finger along his jaw, my nail sharp enough to draw a thin line of blood.
“It was her pain. Her fear. The moment your filthy hands touched what belongs to me, it sent ripples through time itself. Did you think there would be no consequences?”
He starts to babble, excuses pouring from his mouth like sewage. “She-she came onto me! She was asking for it…”
The words die in his throat as my hand closes around it. “Wrong answer.” I slam him against the wall, hard enough to crack the plaster. “She is a queen. My queen. And you...” I lean in close, letting him see the monster behind my eyes, “you are less than nothing.”
“Please...” he wheezes. “I’ll give you anything...”
I laugh, the sound echoing off the dingy walls. “Anything? You have nothing I want except your suffering.” I release his throat, letting him gasp for air. “But first, let’s have a drink, shall we?”
“Put him down,” she orders. Kade rises, prepared to protect me, but I wave my bloodied claws, and she lowers her head, yielding to my command.
“Hazel,” I say, my voice laced with a mix of surprise and delight. “What a pleasant surprise. I had intended to seek you out, and here you are. Fate works in mysterious ways.” I turn back to my captive, Dave, and lower him slowly, relishing the power I hold over his life. “A slow death is necessary for those who harm what is mine.”
Hazel’s eyes narrow, and her stance shifts, ready to challenge me. “I said, put him down. Your awakening does not grant you free rein over human lives. I know why you were put to rest—your madness had consumed you.” Her hands are at her sides, glowing with a subtle aura, a warning.
I smile, baring my sharp teeth. “I know why I’ve awakened. This human assaulted my Anora.” I watch her intently, enjoying the way her breath catches in her throat. A slight flicker of emotion crosses her face, and I find it intriguing.
Hazel glances at Kade, seeking confirmation, and my daughter nods, a quiet acknowledgment of the truth. War is coming; the prophecy is set in motion.
As Hazel moves closer, I can’t help but be captivated by her. She carries herself with the poise and confidence of a true Bailey witch, her presence electric. Her chocolate brown skin seems to glow under the lights, her ice-blue eyes holding ancient magic—a legacy of our powerful bloodline. Her black hair, tight curls pulled into a neat bun, frames her heart-shaped face, with stray strands adding a touch of wildness.
High cheekbones and a pointed chin accentuate her beauty, while her full lips curl into a mysterious smile, as if she possesses secrets yet untold. Being her uncle fills me with a sense of pride, but also a protectiveness that lingers in my immortal soul.
There’s an unusual scent clinging to her, intertwined with her natural hazelnut aroma. Fear, anxiety, pain, agony. It’s not just from Aya and my sisters. No, this is something deeper… assault? Has my niece been harmed?
Hazel’s eyes narrow at the man, filled with disdain. “Touching Anora was your first mistake. Your fate is sealed.” A strange light flickers in her eyes, reminding me of my sister, Aya—the one who cast the spell that plunged us into a millennium of purgatory. After six hundred years of slumber, I now awaken to a world governed by new rules.
“You did not come here to protect this human, Hazel. You have your own motives. And while I appreciate your defiance against your coven, freeing us, you are still a Bailey witch. And that makes you my enemy.”
She scoffs at my words, folding her arms across her chest. “I am your enemy? I left everything behind because I believe you are not the monster they claim. Uncle.”
The title is filled with possibilities. I have yearned for acceptance from my sisters, and now my niece extends an olive branch. A battle between caution and joy rages inside me.
Hazel turns her attention to Dave, her expression hardening. “You are a liar and a coward. Beg all you want; it changes nothing.” She walks over to the table and sits across from Kade, her eyes never leaving mine. “Finish this. We have more important matters to discuss.”
I know what she wants. The Brookstones. Always meddling, always seeking power. I take a leisurely sip from my goblet, drawing out the moment. “Very well. I had planned to make this a delightful, slow death, but it seems I must expedite the process. I may be ancient, but I can tolerate a great deal from humans. However, harming Anora is a line even I will not let you cross.”
“Wait! Please, I didn’t do anything! Believe me!” Dave’s pleas are futile. I’ve grown tired of his whimpering. With a grin, I toss the goblet across the diner and hold up a finger, watching his eyes widen as it transforms into a sharp talon.
I move with preternatural speed, slashing him from chest to belly. Blood and flesh part easily under my talon, and his screams turn to gurgles as his life spills out. I turn away as his body drops to the floor, his heart stilled.
Hazel’s gagging reminds me that not everyone shares my appetite for violence. Perhaps she had hoped for a cleaner death.
But where is the fun in that?
“Let’s make this quick. I want Kade to take me to Anora, and I’m not interested in wasting any more time. If this is about the Brookstones, I’ll deal with it,” I say, my tone sharp, urgency pressing in my chest.
She rises from the table, her movement quick and decisive. I can’t help but notice how small she looks, each step delicate, but I know better. Her fragility hides a strength that comes from the Goddess we both serve. I wouldn’t dare attack her—she’s protected by Fate, my mother and the one who controls everything. To go against her would be pure foolishness.
“I’m sure the Master Coven filled you in on the Brookstone’s laboratory and their ability to clone the fated scent?” I can’t suppress the smile that creeps onto my face as I say it.
“Master Coven? What Master Coven?” There’s a playful touch to my words, but I can see her breath catch, the realization hitting her like a wave.
“You fed on your own people,” she scoffs, her face twisting in disgust. The corners of my mouth pull wider in response.
“No, not my people—traitors. They committed treason, and I needed to feed and replenish my flesh after a six-century slumber. It seemed like a fair trade to me.” I lean back, reveling in her reaction.
“Then who’s going to watch over Wintermoon while you help me? My raid on that facility only saved more shifter babies. Radical humans have learned how to detect the fated scent. How many of your precious supernaturals will suffer now?” She arches an eyebrow, a smirk lingering on her lips.
A growl rises in my chest, roaring like an unchained beast. My fingers sharpen into talons, my primal instinct urging me toward violence as I resist the urge to lash out. Humans seem hell-bent on starting a second Great War, but Fate’s whispers promised they would prevent another at all costs—even to the point of erasing history.
So why the sudden shift? Their attack on my people looks like a clear invitation to war. I glance at Kade, drawing in a deep breath to steady my storm.
“Kade, my heiress will oversee Wintermoon in my name. You are now the acting Queen,” I declare. I expect Kade’s immediate discomfort; she’s always hesitated to claim her birthright. I turned her because she possesses the qualities of an excellent Queen—an innate maternal aura and a genuine concern for Wintermoon. That’s why she fought to keep me from waking.
“No, I don’t…” She starts, her protest stirring, but I raise my hand to silence her, the authority in my voice brooking no argument.
“You will take the position, and Damon will be your consort.” Kade’s head drops, an exasperated huff escaping her, yet she remains silent, understanding my tone is final.
“I’ll stay here in Detroit. There’s something telling me the Bailey witches are collaborating with the Brookstones. They have a history, after all.” I look directly at Hazel, my eyebrow raised for clarification. She shrugs, dismissive.
“How would I know? I’m no longer a Bailey witch now that I’ve broken the curse. They cast me aside just like they did you when you rejected the black magic.” Her words snap at me, and I can’t help but grin.
My niece knows our shared history too well.
“Forget about that, niece. Why don’t you take refuge in Wintermoon while I handle the rest?” I suggest. Kade and Hazel both burst into laughter, the sound a mix of disbelief and something else.
“I may have lost the title of a Bailey witch, but I still smell like one. I’d be walking into a death trap. You know how hated my bloodline is!” She jabs a finger toward me, and Kade nods in agreement, her frustration evident.
I didn’t realize vampires could get flustered.
“Plus, I don’t trust you. I’m staying put until this issue is resolved. I freed supernaturals, restored their ability to scent their fated mates. If these humans start killing innocent beings just for having the fated scent…” I lift my hand, cutting her off mid-sentence, my mind racing with the implications.
This also puts Anora at risk, but I’m collecting her tonight. I can’t let my personal feelings for her interfere now; her safety overshadows everything, and I’ll work to win her trust later.
“Very well, Hazel. You’ll need a place to sleep. No more nomadic living.” I command, and her glare could pierce through stone. Kade looks disappointed, her expression already resigned as I brace for what comes next.
“Hazel will live with me—at Thirst Trap.”
“Ugh! Come on!” Kade groans, and I laugh, finding humor in her plight. “I have to be acting Queen and give up my nightclub?”
“Yes.” My answer is firm, and she slumps in defeat, shoulders drooping.
“Then it’s settled,” I say firmly. “Let’s go get my woman, daughter.”
Before I can teleport, Hazel grabs my arm. I glance down, puzzled by her audacity to touch me without permission.
“Don’t drag her into this dark world without knowing her first. Ask Kade how the fated are dealing with it when their primal instincts take control,” she warns, and I jerk my arm free, anger bubbling just below the surface.
How dare she instruct me on my own affairs? But when I shift my gaze to Kade and see her gentle concern, I groan, their expectations pressing down on me.
“You both expect me to court her while she’s in danger?” I snap at them. Hazel’s eyes flicker to Dave’s lifeless body on the floor, and she gags again.
“Hazel, go to Thirst Trap. There will be supernaturals looking for safety, but Andrew will protect you.” Kade instructs.
“Fine!” she huffs, stomping toward the door. “And I can take care of myself, by the way.” Kade rolls her eyes as Hazel exits the diner, and she extends her hand toward me.
“Would you like to see her?” she asks, and I smile, placing my hand in hers without a second thought.