Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
“There’s a bar downstairs,” I tell Xavier, turning my head so I can look into his gorgeous eyes.
The second he looks at me, my breath hitches in my chest. It wasn’t that long ago I couldn’t stand the sight of him.
Now, being near him brings me an equal sense of excitement and comfort.
“I think maybe it would be a good idea if I went down and got some junk food and had a drink—or five—before the actual meeting starts.” I put my hand on his chest before he can go into his noble my wife speech.
“Sometimes knowing when to sit quietly in the background is the smartest thing.”
His jaw tenses, and I know he agrees but doesn’t want to admit it.
“And I’m hungry.”
“Well, in that case,” he starts and reaches into his jacket, pulling out his wallet. “You should eat.”
“Thank you.”
He kisses me, hands going to my waist as he dips me back. I slip a hand around his shoulders as his tongue pushes into my mouth, unable to help the soft moan that escapes my lips. I’m fully aware we are in a room full of people and those people have been glaring at me since the moment I walked in.
“I’ll meet you there when we’re done,” he whispers after he stands me back upright. I let my hand slide down his back, eyes lingering on his.
“Okay,” I breathe and lean in, kissing him once more. My heart swells in my chest and for the first time, I don’t try to quell the feeling. Despite my protests that I’m capable on my own, Xavier walks me to the elevator, seeing that I’m safe inside.
The hotel bar is on the first floor, only two floors down from where we are right now.
It’s a short elevator ride, giving me just enough time to lean back, close my eyes, and slowly exhale.
My mind is swirling with thoughts, and I don’t know which one to start with.
The chaos screams in my head as I walk to the bar and, thankfully, snag a barstool at the counter.
I order a vodka and cranberry and resist the urge to gulp it down as soon as the glass is set in front of me.
I’ve seen way too many hunters turn to booze to numb the pain that comes with this job.
“So, the rumors are true,” a woman says, coming up next to me. She has a slight southern accent and the energy coming off of her is different. She’s not fully human. “Xavier Malus’s new wife is a witch.”
I turn, taking her in. She’s about my age with short red hair and striking green eyes.
Dressed in an emerald green blouse and black pants, she fits in with the other business-casually dressed patrons of the bar.
Though something tells me werewolves don’t usually host their pack meetings at historic hotels in downtown Charlotte.
“What makes you say that?”
“Everyone knows who you are,” she starts and motions to my ring. “We can see that thing a mile away. Plus, I can sense your magic just like you can sense that I’m a wolf. And my pack master is on the council.” She tips her head and looks me up and down. “Still, it’s hard to believe.”
“I guess,” I simply agree.
“I thought the Grand Coven forbade it.”
“Tell that to Xavier,” I chide and she laughs.
“I’m Delphi,” she says and holds out her hand.
“Wren,” I reply and shake her hand. “But you already knew that.”
“Yeah. You’re quite popular.”
“I am?” I ask, surprised.
“Even among the normies, people want to know about the human who captured Xavier Malus’s heart. And among the wolves, we want to know why the hell a witch and a vampire seemingly got married out of the blue.”
I look at her as I take another drink. There’s a question in her statement, and if they’re already trying to figure things out, the truth will surface eventually.
My mind goes to wondering what Xavier would think of this conversation, but then I remember I’ve never let a man dictate what I do or don’t do.
Today will not be the day I let that happen, not even when the man in question is my husband.
“Want to join us?” Delphi asks. “I just ordered a bunch of junk food and need help eating it.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” I chuckle. “They don’t serve food at VC meetings and I’m starving.”
“I never thought about that, but it makes sense. Vampires don’t eat. Come on.”
I grab my drink and follow Delphi, recognizing one of the women at the table as the alpha of the Charlotte pack.
I met her the night Xavier took me to my first business meeting.
She eyes me curiously as she takes a drink.
Three other wolves are seated around her and straighten up when they see me, probably sensing the magic as well as knowing exactly who I am.
“Hi,” I say.
“This is Florence Malus,” Delphi tells everyone. “And this is my pack master, Larkin. I believe you met.”
“We did, but it’s nice to see you again,” I say, not sure the proper greeting I should give to a pack master. She holds a lot of authority—and power.
“This is Bazzel from the Raleigh pack, and Victoria and James, from our pack.”
“Nice to meet you all,” I say and slide into the curved booth next to Delphi. An awkward silence falls over the table for a few seconds.
“Okay, I’m just going to say it,” James starts, bringing his hands up as he talks. “You married the most eligible bachelor in all of North Carolina if not arguably the entire South. How did you land him?”
Hah. If only they knew. “I guess you could say we were introduced through family connections.”
“Oh wow. He is a good looking man—vampire—man-pire?” James says and we laugh. “You just kinda came out of nowhere.”
I shrug. “I guess.”
“But you did,” Larkin says. She’s maybe in her mid-forties, and is fit and well dressed.
Stories circulated amongst the Order about backwoods Appalachian packs being inbred and impoverished.
The Whittakers didn’t help with that rumor, and Appalachia has historically faced a high poverty rate.
But the Order will also do and say anything to make werewolves less human or deserving.
“I was quite curious about you after meeting you, as you can expect.”
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
“I tried to find the coven you came from, and came up empty-handed.” She takes a slow drink, and then sets her glass of whiskey down. “You never belonged to one, did you?”
“No,” I say, not seeing the point in lying about it. “I didn’t.”
“But that’s not where the surprises end,” she goes on. “Just today, your name was brought up at the station.”
“Station?” I question, though I know exactly what she means. And she knows it.
She gives me a small smile, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Quite unfortunate you had to witness a druggie run into oncoming traffic.”
“Yeah, it was, uh, awful.”
“But you weren’t too fazed.” She cocks an eyebrow.
“What makes you say that?” I ask and take in a breath.
“Xavier Malus isn’t the only one with his hand in the cookie jar. We have wolves employed by the CPD. You were given the star treatment, weren’t you?”
I drop my guard, lowering the mental shield that I subconsciously carry around me to get a read on her energy. It’s not that she doesn’t like me—she really is curious—and she’s smart to be wary. “Yeah, I was. I guess I can thank my husband for that.”
Everyone else at the table is watching the exchange, eyes bouncing from Larkin to me like pingpong balls.
“I guess you can.” She drums her fingers on the table, tapping each long nail one by one. “I couldn’t connect you to a coven,” she repeats. “But I did uncover your maiden name. Florence Russo.”
“Yeah. That’s me. Or was me.”
“Part of the Russo family.” Larkin did her research, which probably isn’t that hard. “Mark and Vivian Russo are your parents.”
“Adoptive parents,” I correct.
Bazzel leans forward. “I’m not following,” he says, shaking his head.
“Consider yourself lucky,” Larkin goes on. “Mark and Vivian Russo are well known hunters in the area.”
“Hunters?” James echoes.
“Yes,” Larkin says, eyes on me. “Some of the best in the Order.”
“The Order?” Delphi repeats. “Like the Order of the Mystic Realm?”
“Yeah,” I reply. “I was raised in the Order.”
“How?” Victoria, who’s been quiet until just now, asks.
Deciding to go with the story I was told my entire life, I inhale. “The Russos were hunting the demons that killed my family. They found me and were afraid the demons would come back to finish the job, so they took me home with them to protect me.”
“That’s fucked up,” Delphi says. “They just kept you like a lost puppy? You didn’t have other family looking for you?”
I shrug. “Apparently not,” I go on, stomach tightening. It is fucked up, and even more so when you know the real story.
“I’m sorry,” Delphi says. “I just can’t.
How the hell does a witch end up in the Order?
Once they realized you were a witch, they would have killed you.
As a child, it would have been easy to do.
” Larkin gives her a pointed look. “Oh come on. We all know the Order hates anyone who’s not fully human. ”
I pick up my drink, giving myself a few seconds to consider my answer.
No one needs to know my whole history, but I’m not ashamed, and sharing something personal is a good way to build trust. The wolves aren’t here by chance.
They’re at this bar, in the same building as the VC is gathering, for a reason.
The Malus vampires have been in control of the city for a very long time, but that doesn’t mean they will never be challenged.
“It’s kind of a long story.”
“I’ll make time for it,” Bazzel says and leans back. “She’s not the only one curious, and there’s been talk. It’s always best to hear it right from the source instead of trying to interpret all the rumors going around.”
“Oh, there’s rumors about me?” I chuckle and then take a drink, carefully planning my every move.
I’ve been trained on how to connect with people, and know the subtle tricks of the trade to employ to help gain their trust. And right now, I need to make them think that I consider myself on the same level as them.
They’re used to the vampires in this coalition acting all high and mighty—for good reason, I might add—but that telling someone you’re better than they are isn’t a good way to make a friend.
James raises his eyebrows. “You can imagine everyone’s shock when Xavier Malus of all people shows up at a coalition meeting with a human wife who turns out to be a witch. Witches and vampires don’t share a friendly history.”
“We don’t,” I say, and feel like an outsider. I am a witch, but I wasn’t raised like one and the history of my people is mostly unknown to me. But now’s not the time for crippling imposter syndrome. Everyone is staring at me, waiting for me to explain my origin story.
“Like I said, the Order was hunting the demons that killed my family. Vivian Russo told me when she found me, she knew I was in danger and wanted to protect me, and that they didn’t know my parents were witches too.
The Order believed witches got their powers from making a deal with the devil or something, which isn’t true.
We’re born with powers. There’s no way to gain them or even get rid of them. ”
“I knew they spread lies like that,” Larkin chides. “The same way they say we can turn humans into wolves by a bite.”
“The scary thing is, most Order members believe the lies. But I know they’re spread only to perpetuate hate.”
“Okay, so obviously they were wrong,” Delphi says, pushing her red hair back. “You started showing powers or whatever happens when a witch comes of age. And they didn’t toss you to the curb.”
“No, they didn’t. They realized having powers made me a superior hunter.”
James holds up a hand. “So you’re telling us that you’re like a full-fledged demon hunting witch?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “And not to brag or anything, but I might hold the highest kill-count for someone my age.”
The waitress comes over with a tray of cheese fries, sweet potato tater tots, nachos, and platter of calabash-style seafood. Delphi wasn’t kidding when she said she ordered a lot of junk food.
“What game do you play?” the waitress asks me.
“Hollow Knight,” Delphi answers without missing a beat, thankfully, because I am not a gamer.
We dig into the food, dividing it up onto plates. I finish my drink and start to feel a little buzzed already. I haven’t eaten much before this and it’s been a while since I’ve had alcohol.
“Can I ask a question now?” I ask, picking up a fry and dipping it in cheese.
“You can, but I don’t know if I’ll answer,” Larkin replies with a playful smirk.
“What are five werewolves doing here, at this exact hotel that’s hosting a VC summit?”
The wolves all look at Larkin, not saying anything their pack master doesn’t want them to say.
“You’re a smart girl, Wren,” she starts. “There’s no reason to bullshit you, because I think we can be friends.”
“You want something from me.”
“I do. I want to talk to Xavier without the audience of the coalition.”
“Talk about what?”
“This new string of drugs…it’s making its way to my pack,” she says and a chill runs through me. “And I’ve heard the vampires are supplying them.”