8. Puck
Everything inside me wanted to leave, to get back to Faerie as fast as possible. But that was the curse talking, not me. I had to keep reminding myself that I was here to get a message for Titania. It was the add-on trip that was making me nervous—making the curse nervous.
“Come in,” a voice droned on the other side of the wall. I pushed the heavy door open. Vlad—my vampire contact in the mortal realm—sat behind a desk, typing on his computer. When he saw it was me, he did a double take, then rolled his eyes.
“Sit down, then,” he said.
I walked into the dark office, the maroon walls and espresso wooden floors swallowing the soft yellow light. While he returned to his project at hand, I scanned the built-in bookshelves that covered three of the walls, each stuffed with books so old I doubted they could be opened without disintegrating.
“I’m here to receive a message,” I told him as I sat in one of the plush armchairs opposite his obscenely large desk. It was remarkably free of clutter with no stray papers or errant pens, only a single folder that was set to the side of his computer.
Vlad sighed and closed the lid of his laptop, turning to face me. His blonde hair was perfectly styled, as usual, but his tie was slightly askew. Odd. Vlad was always perfectly presented. I once walked in on him sleeping and his suit was wrinkle-free.
“Tell your queen he’s dead.” His voice was completely disinterested. “He died a few mortal years ago, but you can leave that part out.”
The stupid tether would make me tell Titania everything, but I kept my mouth shut and let him continue.
“I’m moving the person of interest closer to me. Unless she objects.”
I didn’t know who died, or who the person of interest was, but Titania would understand. As soon as Vlad finished delivering his message, a sharp pain pierced my center, urging me back to Faerie. I rubbed my chest, begging it to quell so I could ask my favor.
Vlad closed his eyes, releasing a heavy breath before opening them again. “Why are you still here?” he asked, his voice gritty.
“I need your help.
His annoyance turned to curiosity, his narrowed eyes widening. “Go on.”
“I’m looking for a witch.” I wrung my hands in an attempt to distract myself. My body screamed at me to go home, to not say anything else. “The descendent of an old acquaintance. My research showed the family line ended about thirty years ago, but—
“You think an heir is running around with a changed name?” Vlad asked, leaning forward and propping his chin on his knuckles. “Who was your friend? The original witch?”
“She was a blood witch,” I got out, the curse preventing me from speaking her name outright. Every second that passed was more painful than the last, but I was so close, I could feel it.
Vlad’s eyebrows rose. “Blood witches don’t exist,” he said carefully.
“That’s a lie, and you know it.”
“Well, they’re not born. A witch can only harness blood magic when they’re turned from a witch to a vampire, and vampires cannot have children.”
“Unless she had a daughter before she turned.” The only sign Vlad was impressed with my knowledge was the slight curve of his mouth. “The witch I knew lived in Russia; she became well known in human lore around the sixteenth century.”
Vlad’s chuckle was dark, and he swiped a hand down his face. “You’re telling me that you’re looking for the hypothetical descendant of Baba Yaga?”
“I was hoping that someone from her family line would be strong enough to— another piercing pain, —help me. The last known relation was seen in Scotland living amongst the Dark Witches. Rumors say she died during childbirth, but I don’t know if the child survived.”
“She did.”
Everything came to a halt. My breath caught in my throat. Even though I had asked the question, I didn’t expect him to have an answer. “You know where she is?” I leaned forward, my heart pounding wildly in my ribcage.
“Perhaps. What would you be willing to give for this information?”
Of course, he’d want a bargain. Vlad dealt in information, and he rarely gave anything for free. “I don’t offer favors,” I said flatly.
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.” He appraised me. “You want her to break your curse?”
My mouth popped open. No one knew about the curse; Titania didn’t want that information to be public knowledge. There was no way in hell she would have told Vlad, not with the way he gossiped.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about how I know, but I’ve known for some time. He steepled his fingers before him on the desk. Heres how I see things. You cant ask anyone in Faerie because the curse is stronger in your realm. I nodded in affirmation. Which leaves you with two options. You could petition the strongest witch in the mortal realm, but even her magic may not be enough. Plus…she’d tell you to get fucked.”
“But would Baba Yagas descendent be able to help?
“Yes. His fangy smirk was devious. Because shes also a blood witch.
Holy fuck.
She is? I asked, desperation coating my words.
And you need my help to meet her.
“Name your price.” I fumed. The curse was riding me hard, and I needed it broken before it drove me back to Titania.
“You stay here,” he declared. His fangs poked into his bottom lip. “After the witch breaks your curse, you stay in the mortal realm and look through every single goddamned grimoire in my library and around the world until you find a way to sever your broken mating bond with Edina.”
It was like he tore my throat out. He could have asked me for anything, and he chose to make me hurt my mate even more than I already had.
“Why?” I breathed.
“I don’t particularly enjoy seeing my family in pain,” he said harshly, but I could see the compassion in his eyes. I knew he and Edina were friends, but for him to consider her family—to use his leverage on her behalf—he must have really cared for her.
“What if I want to be with her?”
Vlad considered. “If she wants to be with you, fine. But if she tells you to fuck all the way off—which is exactly what I think is going to happen—then you break the mating bond and let her live her life without pain.”
My skin felt tight. The only glimmer of hope I had was that Edina would forgive me once my curse was broken and I could be with my mate. But for us to have a chance, I needed to be free of Titania’s influence.
“I agree. I’ll stay here until I find a way to break the mating bond, and if she doesn’t want me, I’ll do that for her.” Vlad stuck out his hand, and I leaned forward to shake it. “Where’s this witch, then?”
He leaned back in his chair, reached between his legs, and pulled on a blond mop of curly hair until a woman stood before him, her body blocking the view of his dick.
“By the goddess,” I swore.
The female giggled as Vlad shoved his cock back in his pants. “Why didn’t you tell me I was descended from Baba Yaga, Daddy?”
“It never came up.”
“Except all those months we spent researching if another witch had ever been turned into a vampire.” Her voice was light and ethereal, even in its sarcasm.
“I was going to tell you eventually, sweetheart,” Vlad said with surprising softness. She playfully smacked his chest and he snagged that hand, using it to spin her around to sit on his lap. He kissed her neck in a way that was simultaneously sweet and possessive.
The witch cocked her head to the side in a move that was pure predator. Her blonde hair, a mass of ringlets, was mussed and fell to her slender shoulders. Fangs poked into her pink bottom lip.
When she was done with her appraisal, she hopped off Vlad’s lap and walked straight to one of the bookshelves, trailing her hand along the spines until she found one of red leather, the gold lettering long since flaked off. With great care, she flipped through brittle pages.
“I’ll need a sample of his blood,” she said without looking up from the text. In a flash of his superior speed, Vlad rounded the desk and jammed his fangs into my wrist. I inhaled sharply at the pain. Vampires could choose to make their bites pleasurable, but he didn’t spare me that courtesy. He pulled a vial from his pocket for the blood to drain into. “Six drops, please.”
Once the six drops were safely in the vial, Vlad pricked his finger and smeared his blood over my wound, healing it before handing the blood to the witch. She added a few drops of her blood to the mixture.
“Stand,” she commanded, and I did so immediately as Vlad slunk back to the other side of the desk and laced his fingers behind his head to watch the show.
The witch stood before me in the blink of an eye and began to chant in ancient Russian. As she did, she took a drop of the mixture of our blood onto her fingertip and used it to draw a line down each of my cheeks.
I felt magic swell in the room, crackling like electricity. Inside me, something shrieked. I gasped from the pain but urged her to keep going—not that she would have stopped, anyway.
The remaining blood mixture floated out of the vial and spun in front of me, whirling around and around until it became mist. The chanting reached its pinnacle, and the witch leaned forward and blew the mist straight into my face. I wanted to shrink away from it, but I held firm.
Then, I felt it. The binds loosened. The other voice disappeared.
It felt like I could breathe for the first time in nearly four hundred years.
I sank to the floor, folding in on myself as sobs wracked my body. I was free. The sheer, utter relief that coursed through me was exhilarating. I swiped away the tears that tracked through the rest of the bloody mixture before waving my hand and cleaning myself up.
The witch watched me. Her smile was wide and most likely meant to be reassuring, but the fangs and the slightly crazed look in her eyes made it seem otherwise. “Welcome back,” she said, then skipped around the desk and settled back into Vlad’s lap. He grabbed her chin and pulled her in for a kiss that made me feel incredibly uncomfortable.
“I’d suggest,” Vlad intoned, pulling away from his girl. “That you start with the grimoires in that corner.” He pointed at the shelf closest to the door.
I thanked them both profusely. “I’ll start right away.”
“The library is on the first floor.”
With that dismissal, I grabbed a stack of books and left the vampires to continue what they started before my arrival. I would hold up my end of the bargain. I’d search through every single book in the realm to thank Vlad and his witch for what they did.
And when I found how to break the mating bond—which I hoped I’d never have to use—I’d go home, and I’d get my revenge on the female who enslaved me. I was going to rip her head off and put it on a pike outside the palace. I would find every advisor and every soldier who knew what she did to me and filet their skin from their body.
Then, when I killed the queen and took over Spring Court, I’d demolish every room I associated with Titania and rule the way the citizens deserved.
Nothing was going to get in my way.