Chapter 2 #4
We were all captivated by the fluid, purposeful movements of Rachel’s hands as she unraveled the remnants of the spell.
She made the delicate art of spell weaving seem effortless, although the sheen of sweat along her hairline and the faint tremble in her fingers told a different story.
Depleted, she leaned against the wall. It took visible effort for her to lift her gaze to meet mine.
“They didn’t make it easy,” she said slowly, catching her breath.
She ran a finger over her furrowed brows, urging them to relax.
“The owner of the spell is masked by a coven’s marker. ”
She closed her eyes briefly, then shifted her attention to the bewildered vampires. “Coven markers are like your crests, but more complex and just as symbolic. It serves more as a warning to anyone who attempts to find the caster that they will have to deal with the coven as well.”
“I’m prepared to do that,” Belham said.
“I’m not willing to let you.” With effort, she held Belham’s cold eyes, and when it became too difficult, she shifted her focus to me.
There was something unspoken in her expression, a depth of meaning that made it clear this wasn’t just about protecting witches from vampires.
This was personal—she was protecting someone she cared about.
From my time spent around her and their coven, I had an inkling of which coven was involved.
Belham’s dangerous smirk sent a shiver down my spine, and I instinctively stepped in front of Rachel.
The only protection I had was pepper spray in my pocket.
I’d use that and then knee him. No matter how powerful he was, a strike to the crotch would give Rachel and me a head start.
And Corrine would get a gouge to the eyes and strike to the tits.
It was about survival at this point, not propriety.
But before I went with violence, I decided to try an appeal to practicality.
I pointed out that witches didn’t mind the stronghold vampires had on the supernatural community and their self-appointed roles as rulers of it.
Witches had no desire to see them fall. But the witches could be the greatest challenge to vampire positions if they went to war with them.
Personally, I was convinced the shifters would be.
The only thing stopping them was their low population.
Which they seemed on a mission to remedy.
Immune to magic when in their animal form, their strength and speed made them the only supernaturals who rivaled the vampires.
They weren’t as old but had comparable resources.
I went on, pointing out that retaliation against the coven would lead to backlash, which would make witches reluctant to work with them.
By overlooking the infraction, the vampires could take advantage of the witches’ worst shortcoming: their willingness, for the right price, to ignore the reason for a requested spell.
After pointing that out, the vampires seemed less reluctant to go after the witch or the coven. Not fully trusting them, Rachel and I refused to give them names. But I agreed to find the vampire house involved.
Two days later, both Belham and Corrine were in my living room and making a concerted effort not to pass judgment on my place.
It was one of the few apartments I could afford on my salary from Cloak and Daggers.
The monthly rent was probably less than the strappy Jimmy Choo’s pumps Corrine wore, or Belham’s bespoke suit.
I provided them with the name of the vampire house responsible for the poorly executed frame job. It was apparent that they wanted destruction of the person responsible. Not just the person, the house as well.
“Yeah, make more houses hate and fear you,” I countered between their insults and threats against each other in an effort to claim rights to punishing the offender.
“From the chatter in the club, I’ve gathered there is general respect for your position.
Of course there will be some dissent. That’s normal for the powerful, but if you destroy a house because they protect one of their own, it will not be received well,” I said.
“It will lead to feelings of hopelessness. And feelings of despair lead to recklessness.”
When they didn’t seem convinced, I continued. “The execution of the setup was performed so poorly, it’s almost a punishment to have to live with their failure. Punishment makes them seem consequential. And this person isn’t. Why give them that morsel of credibility?”
They took a long, considering moment. Nothing about their expressions gave me insight into what they were thinking. I only had the windows to the nonexistent souls to go by. Their eyes were stormy, and by the time they left, I figured there would be one less vampire house.
Days later, I’d seen members of the offending house in Cloak and Dagger, so I figured Belham and Corrine had taken my advice, or at least some parts of it. I didn’t pursue confirmation. The further I stayed away from the two houses and out of vampire business, the safer I surely would be.
Two weeks had passed and the club had emptied, when I was shocked to find Corrine and Belham in the small break room. When my coworkers scuttled away, leaving me in the room with them, the glare I gave them for their cowardice spoke louder than any words could.
Corrine smiled at the reaction. And the room was overtaken by their quiet tension while I stood on the opposite side of the room watching them attempt to ignore the other’s presence.
“I like you,” Corrine announced, pausing her rhythmic tapping against the table next to her. Though her words were offered as a concise compliment, her expression provided nothing more than regarding me the way a cat would a mouse.
Belham shared similar sentiments. “You possess a perceptiveness that I appreciate.” He stepped closer, studying my face with unnerving intensity, a small smile curving his lips. “You’re not afraid of us, are you?”
I was the queen of bravado and bluster, qualities needed to work at Cloak and Dagger.
And the shots of vodka had reduced my inhibitions enough to give the impression I was fearless.
Without the liquid courage, I’d be forced to project a fearlessness I didn’t have.
Exhaustion from sleep deprivation made the fear harder to creep in.
Fake it till you make it—I guess.
I wasn’t afraid of them. But I was cautious and just wanted them to get to the point.
My last encounter with them was so busy, I hadn’t had time to think about what I’d done to the vampire.
But since then, I’d spent every waking moment trying not to unravel from the discovery and debating who I’d tell.
I loved my best friend, and she’d never given me a reason to mistrust her, but I lived by the rule that if you want something to remain a secret, then it is best to keep it to yourself.
How could I search about the ability without being discovered?
A pearl of fear remained as I waited for the compliments to end and the accusations to begin about what I’d done to Raynard. He was only able to recall feeding from the blood bag.
My strong protective urges and Vina’s last words had made me overly cautious.
One thing was definite: I had magic. Unknown magic.
Peculiar magic. Possibly vampire-changing magic.
Which put me in the category of feared and disposable.
Heavy on the disposable part. I didn’t even want to consider what the vampires would do if they learned I possessed the ability to…
whatever the hell I’d done. Rehuman them, reanimate them. Did that ability go further?
With their icy gazes turned on me, I wondered if I’d confessed at some point during my reverie. They repeated themselves. It was a job offer. I blinked several times and asked them to repeat themselves again.
That was the beginning of me failing up to becoming the liaison for the houses of Knight and Hollows.
I’d refused their initial offer, but several zeros added to the offer made me a fool to turn it down.
A hundred-fifty thousand base and the hazard pay I negotiated was too good to refuse.
But there were many occasions when I believed I was a fool for accepting it. I’d undervalued the cost of my life.
“You’re far from a cautionary tale,” I said, returning to the present and addressing Corrine’s spin on the tale of her life.
She wasn’t a cautionary tale but had fallen nicely adjacent to one.
She was once a powerful witch who fell in love with a vampire.
A liaison that didn’t occur nearly as often as paranormal romance novels wanted us to believe.
Corrine was a Nightshade witch. Her umbral magic fell firmly into the realm of gray magic, and her necromancy abilities gave her power over vampires. It was like nothing they’d seen before. Her capabilities were revered by other witches and reviled and feared by the vampires.
The vampires wanted to kill her but understood the devastation that a clash between witches and vampires would cause.
So, a vampire seduced her, made her fall in love with him.
With his claim of wanting to spend his life with her, she allowed him to change her, unaware that one of the side effects of the transition was the loss of her magic.
By consenting to being changed, he rid her of the power she had over vampires.
Corrine later discovered that her lover had been aware of it and had been tasked with stripping her of her magic.