Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Edmund proved more than helpful with the book he’d left open on the coffee table. After dinner, I’d changed into spelling clothes and taken the text with me downstairs.
The entire chapter he’d left open discussed vampires: their origins, their potential strengths and weaknesses (though this part was frustratingly vague), their history, including the first vampire and how others were later created, and how they had to cull their numbers due to lack of oversight on the creation of new vampires.
Now, there were strict laws on siring progeny.
If there was ever a threat to our world, it was the vampires losing control and sparking a boom of bloodthirsty monsters that had the potential to wipe the humans off the face of the earth. A shiver rolled down my spine as I continued reading.
It seemed foolish to wipe out the only thing keeping them alive, but I’d argued with enough crazy people at the coffee shop before to understand the concern.
According to the books, the first vampire still existed, his location a well-kept secret.
Legend was he only rose when his children misbehaved long enough to smack them down before going back to sleep.
A sad existence, but one we were all glad for.
If the book was accurate, few could resist his allure.
At least he had the ability to get his people under control and leave the rest of us alone.
I made notes as I went along, tracking strengths and weaknesses.
As I read, I formulated a plan. Arriving unprepared wasn’t an option.
Even if I was safe with him, and I didn’t expect I would be, it didn’t mean I’d be safe around the other vampires in his Hive.
And I had no doubt there would be other vampires around the Prime.
If it came down to a fight, most witches could tangle with a vampire long enough to get away.
Some could match their strength and magic through spells or their genetic makeup.
Hedgewitches had to be quick and clever to survive an encounter with one.
I had to give myself the best chance possible, just in case things went sideways.
The odds of Alric being alone were low. He’d never been photographed without an entourage or beautiful women surrounding him, usually both. Part of being Prime was being seen, and Alric, based upon the sheer size of his online footprint, adored the publicity.
Any vampire could be harmed. The problem was catching them first. All possessed speed and strength far beyond an average human or witch.
Garlic was out, as were crosses. I bet Alric could walk into a church and swim in the baptismal pool if he wanted to.
Sunlight was known to be only a problem for younger vampires, though I couldn’t recall ever seeing any vampire out in bright sunlight.
The Prime had shown up at the shop in the afternoon, so he could obviously go wherever he wanted.
I frowned as a memory tingled the back of my mind.
The day had been overcast, the sun hidden behind a haze of clouds.
I crossed out sunlight in the “no” category and moved it to “maybe”.
Relying on knowledge from books when vampires were notoriously tight-lipped about everything concerning their history perhaps wasn’t the best key to survival.
As I continued reading, something became very clear.
Vampires weren’t living, not exactly. No one knew what powered them, though the author suspected it had something to do with living blood.
Dead blood could kill a younger vampire and disable even the most powerful.
But there was something even more intriguing listed as a possibility, and it made me think of a discussion I’d had with my mother years ago.
Our Prime when we lived in Arkansas was one who shunned public appearances and was rarely seen outside of his Hive. By all accounts, he was paranoid and nervous, but he enforced peace between all the supernaturals and humans and kept that peace through iron-fisted control.
However, he had one unbreakable rule. Hedgewitches were not allowed within a mile radius of the Hive.
Supposedly, the Prime had a bad experience with one and took it out on everyone, but Mom suspected something different and had warned me to steer clear of any dealings with vampires.
She never said why, only implied our kind had the potential to be dangerous to vampires and they knew it.
Looking back, I realized I’d forgotten about it because it was obvious advice. Vampires were dangerous. Period. No notes.
This book claimed vampires disliked all branches of the hedgewitch tree and refused to hire them to work in their Hives. The text didn’t state why, but it posed an intriguing question in my mind. I made an entirely separate column and jotted down a few of my best guesses.
A few hours later, I set the book aside and moved to the workbench, gathering up a handful of stunning peonies and thin metal rods on the way.
Edmund was right. I had a few tricks up my sleeve, and I was not without protection.
Super speed and strength might not be in my wheelhouse, but one could never underestimate preparedness.
I might not be able to outrun Alric, but if I played this right, I could outsmart him if I needed to.
A few days later, I arrived home to a large package on my doorstep and an agitated Edmund crowing about trespassers and the HOA.
“Relax,” I said as I dragged the unwieldy box inside.
“You should keep that thing outside until you know what it is!” Edmund cried.
“There’s nothing alive inside,” I said. “And I don’t hear ticking.”
“Seriously, Alex. You really should be more suspicious.”
I removed the thick cream envelope from the top of the box. “It’s from Alric.”
Edmund sniffed. “Hopefully, he sent you something better to wear for dinner than that twenty-dollar thrift shop dress you wear for all occasions.”
“Don’t be a snob,” I chided. “A little black dress is good for just about everything.”
“Unless said dress is thirty years old and fraying around the collar.”
How had I wound up with a fashion critic for a house spirit? I opened the envelope and pulled out a thick paper card, the expensive kind where the print is embossed. A quick skim revealed the usual suspects—address, time, expected attire.
Formal. Yeesh. Maybe Edmund was right. I needed to step up my thrift game.
I assumed there would be several people in attendance. Not ideal, but maybe better for me if the Prime’s attention was divided. The box was wrapped with brown paper and a scarlet ribbon—pretty on the nose in my opinion.
Once I had the lid off and dug through wads of colored tissue paper, my hands slid over a silky satin material. I stilled and moved the rest of the paper away to reveal an evening dress.
My breath caught as I pulled the dress from the box and held it up.
The satin was a stunning shimmering plum color, not red and not quite purple. One-shouldered, nipped in at the waist, and a free-flowing skirt below. I tugged the skirt to reveal a slightly lighter color between the folds.
“Geez,” I breathed.
Edmund said nothing for a long moment. “Your Prime has excellent taste. Be wary, Alex. You are walking into a lion’s den.”
“He’s not my anything,” I grumbled.
Edmund ignored me. “There’s more inside the box.”
Of course there was. I carefully laid the dress over a kitchen chair and pulled out another small box. Sequined heels matching the inner skirt color, not too high, but not too low either.
A funny feeling squirmed in my stomach. I hated high heels, but I also thought kitten heels weren’t appropriate for formal wear. Had he known this or was it pure luck?
Below the shoebox was an even smaller box. My hands trembled as I pulled that one out and opened it.
I sucked in a gasp. A necklace and pair of earrings lay nestled in cream velvet.
Prehnite winked in the light. Rose cut and pale green, the prehnite was carved into a teardrop shape and sat on the bottom of medium-sized golden hoops. The necklace was rectangular-shaped, dotted along the bottom with the same type of stones as the earrings.
I ran my fingers over the stones and closed the box. My mind whirled, and I sank into one of the kitchen chairs.
Prehnite was not an expensive stone. In fact, most would consider it a budget stone, on par with citrine and labradorite.
However, it was one of my favorites. I owned several pieces of prehnite and always wore a pair of prehnite studs in my second ear piercing.
The stone was one used to alleviate anxiety and help ward away bad dreams—both of which I’d suffered from most of my life.
Suddenly, the prep I’d done didn’t seem nearly enough, and I wondered if I’d made a terrible mistake agreeing to this dinner.
“Alex?”
“I’m fine,” I said quietly.
Edmund didn’t call me out on the lie. “You’ll be okay,” he said instead. “The Prime is not a fool. He could have killed you at any time if that was his goal.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Why didn’t he kill me? He didn’t give a shit about me when he left me in the alley to die.”
“Being a vampire does not rid someone of human emotions. Perhaps he feels guilty and wishes to make amends.”
A harsh laugh broke from me. “I’m nothing to a man like him, Edmund.
A hedgewitch doesn’t even register on his power scale.
Whatever he wants me for, it’s nothing good.
” I gathered up the dress and set it carefully back into the nest of tissue paper, then carried it to my bedroom and put it on the bed.
The dinner was tomorrow night. I had twenty-four hours to prep my magic and figure out a way to make myself the most uninteresting person on the planet. If I was the most boring dinner guest ever, he’d quickly rid himself of my presence and everything could go back to the way it was before.
Easy-peasy.