Bloodcraft (32 page)

“How dare you?” Lucian hissed, her words as effective as those little wooden darts. He almost changed his mind then and there—he’d kill her and then offer his apologies to Freyja for a fruitless trip. “Who do you think you are?”

She eyed him, resting the flat of the crossbow in the other hand. “Truth hurts, right?”

“You know nothing,
child
.”

“That may be, but I see enough,” she said and his eyes narrowed once more at her choice of words. “You tried so hard to make your brother hate you so that you can feel justified in your actions against him. When your mother died, he was the only one who stopped you from taking your own life.”

“How—?” Lucian started, his jaw dropping into a snarl and eyes narrowing, but Angie ignored him, unfazed by his anger.

“All you do in return is push him away. And the sad thing is in his hour of dire need,
you’re
the one he turns to. It’s baffling.” She stared blindly through the floor to ceiling windows, the city of Paris laid out like a carpet of lights below them. “Since we seem to be having a moment, you asked me before if I trusted Christian. I do. He and Tori saved my life. Just as he has saved yours countless times.” Her gaze flicked to Lena. “And yours, Baroness von Kurzberg.”

Lena half stood, her glacial blue eyes snapping to Angie. “How do you know that name—?”

“I know a lot about you,” Angie said, meeting her incensed gaze. “I know about the girl whose sense of justice trumped all, even though she often came out on the wrong end of her brothers’ temper. I know about the girl who hid her compassion because she feared it would make her weak. I see a lot, Baroness, including what you have become.”

Angie didn’t elaborate, and for that, Lucian was grateful. He didn’t want to know any more of this girl’s truths, least of all Lena’s. Her words had troubled him, digging past all his walls and slipping beneath his layers. How could she have known about his mother? About the guilt that had sent him to the middle of an icy lake? He was the reason his mother had died, after all. The girl had stripped away everything, even his own defenses. It made him feel vulnerable and exposed. He didn’t like it one bit.

Was she some kind of psychic? Able to see the future as well as the past? He asked the question, despite himself. Her mouth twitched. “No. I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I only know about the past from reading history books and going online like everyone else. I only see the now
because
of the past.”

“What do you mean you
see
it?” he snapped.

But Angie didn’t have time to answer Lucian’s question as a knock on the door interrupted them. Freyja had arrived and was waiting in the entrance salon. Her presence—and her blood—would cause a stir among the vampires, Lucian knew. While he wanted to hear more of what the girl had to say, it wouldn’t be long before someone did something stupid.

He drained the contents of his glass and nodded to Angie. “Come, you have your audience. Let us hear what you have to say.”

Angie followed them at a discreet distance until they crossed the wide hall to the receiving room at the far end of his apartment where Freyja was waiting in the foyer. Lucian took a deep breath. She did not look pleased to have been summoned on some fool’s errand. Her second in command, Roan, was ever present at her side, and he looked like he was on the verge of declaring war. Lucian dismissed the hovering vampires with a nod, with the exception of Lena and two of his strongest vampires—Marc and Leon. If things went south, he wanted them close.

“What is this about, Lord Devereux? Your messenger said it was urgent.”

He cleared his throat, flinching from the acid in her tone. “My brother is in trouble, and he bid this girl bring you here.” He swept a hand toward the open door and Angie walked in. He noticed that the crossbow was back in its holster on her hip. Obviously, she did not view them as a threat as much as she had him.

Lucian was not prepared for the reaction that swept the faces of the warlock contingent as the girl strode into the room. The very air turned electric, so much so that Lena took a hurried step to his side.

“Angelique?” Freyja’s whisper was ragged.

“Aunt Free,” Angie said in disbelief, her eyes widening as she came to a dead stop just inside the doorway. “What are you doing here? How is this even possible? Gabriel told me you had died. You’re the warlock leader?”

Aunt Free?
Lucian’s brows slammed together. The warlock was this girl’s aunt? But she couldn’t be related by blood—he’d sensed no magic within her. Perhaps she’d been adopted or taken in. He remained quiet, waiting to see what would happen.

Freyja marched forward to take her niece’s face into her hands, her fingers running up and down the girl’s face. “Where is Gabriel? Is he with you?”

The color drained from Angie’s face. “He’s dead. He tried to take the Cruentus Curse. I’m sorry. I didn’t know he lied about that, too. He told me you died.”

The silence was deafening. “
What
?”

“What do you know of the curse?” Roan snarled.

“Hello, cousin,” Angie said with a startled smile, peering around Freyja’s body. “You’re as angry as ever.” Lucian couldn’t have agreed with her more. She shook her head and sighed. “I know a lot as it turns out. The witch is my best friend.” Angie threw a look to where Lucian stood. “And she’s dating his brother. Well, they’re broken up now, but they were together. Anyway, there’s trouble. Christian said I had to get the two of you. You need to come with me to the witches’ temple.”

“Victoria Warrick is your best friend,” Roan said as if he hadn’t heard anything else. “Did you not learn anything when you were a child?”

“No, I was busy being adopted by people who weren’t magical.”

“Adopted?” Freyja looked confused. “I received letters from your mother for years. They stopped a few years ago when she said she wanted nothing to do with any of us anymore. I tried to find you, but you had all disappeared. I respected her wishes, of course, even though it broke my heart.”

“Gabriel cloaked us,” Angie said. “And he wrote the letters. They died a decade ago.”

Freyja’s eyes clouded, a soft huff escaping her lips. “I am so sorry I wasn’t there, Angelique. You must have felt so abandoned all these years.”

The girl shrugged, as if she was all too used to dealing with pain. “It’s just Angie now, and you couldn’t have known. No one did.”

Lucian cleared his throat, watching as Freyja pulled her niece into her arms, with more emotion written all over her face than he’d ever thought her capable of. Turned out she did have a heart, only it was buried deep. Not that it mattered. He wanted nothing to do with either of them, especially now that he knew that Freyja only wanted to destroy Le Sang Noir. He would have enjoyed killing the non-witch and it rankled that she, too, would be taken away under the protection of the warlocks. He gnashed his teeth in silent irritation.

“Not to interrupt this lovely family reunion,” he drawled. “But I’m busy and I don’t have all day to waste watching you two make nice.”

Angie’s eyes swiveled to his. She took a step back so that she could face each of them. “Christian sent me. He needs your help to gather your combined forces.” Her eyes slid to her aunt and to Lucian. “Both of you.”

“Our help?” Roan snarled. “We do not align with vampires.”

“You wanted to align with me,” Lucian interjected in a silky voice.

“That was a means to an end.”

“Ah, yes, all those empty promises you made. I remember.” Lucian felt the beast within him start to stretch. Maybe he would teach this warlock a lesson, release some of the tension of unfulfilled desire building up in his veins. Magic or not, they were on his turf. He shot a sidelong glance to Lena, who hadn’t moved from her position at his side. His teeth pushed forward through his gums, elongating to lethal proportions as adrenaline and bloodlust lanced through him. He didn’t even have to signal to the vampire near the door before Leon lunged toward Angie.

Lucian wondered if she would sense the imminent attack as she had with him earlier. Watching it from an outside perspective gave him pause. Leon was so fast that Lucian could see Freyja and her two guards moving into defensive positions as if in slow motion. His eyes narrowed as the girl ducked into a crouch seconds before Leon reached her, crossbow armed and notched. There was no way she’d have been able to sidestep him, but that was exactly what she had done. She didn’t hesitate. She fired the dart right into Leon’s heart. It was not a wooden dart as she’d used with him, he realized, as Leon’s body crumbled in a blazing inferno of blue and white light before scattering to ashes on the polished mahogany floors. For a second, Lucian felt an odd twinge of relief that she hadn’t used those darts in their sparring.

“Wait,” Angie said to Freyja, who had already started chanting a counter spell. She turned to Lucian and held up a hand to stop any retaliation from the scowling warlocks pressing at her back. “I’m sorry about that, but I told you what would happen. We have no time to lose with any more of your games.”

“What are you?” Lena snarled at his side. “You have no magic. What you did is not possible for a human.”

“I am an Aurus,” she answered, hiking her chin a notch. “No magical power, but I can see what people are, along with their motivations. Not that it matters, but for every minute we stand here arguing, one more of our people dies.”

Lucian’s eyes settled upon her with fascinated interest. He’d heard of such individuals. Their gift to see the true nature of beings was a valuable one. He thought back to that brother of hers he’d faced in New York—no wonder he’d kept her close. She’d been the secret to his success. Something hot lanced through him as he recalled her earlier comment of him trusting Christian with his life. He didn’t like the idea of anyone being able to see through the core of him—or knowing things that he himself couldn’t know.

“My brother can go straight to hell,” he said. “Along with anyone else stupid enough to get in that demon’s way.”

“Your sentiments do not match what’s in your heart, Lord Devereux,” Angie murmured, her words like slender daggers piercing through the chinks in his armor. “And the threat has grown far bigger than a rogue demon. The more souls it consumes, the more powerful it gets. The only way we can defeat it is to come together.”

“What about your precious Victoria?” Lena said. “Le Sang Noir. The savior of us all?” Her tone dripped sarcasm, but it was a valid question. Surely such a powerful witch could dispatch a demon without so much as blinking.

Unfiltered pain rocked across Angie’s face as she related what had happened with the headmistress in a few short sentences. “Tori has been wounded. A poison.”

“What kind of poison?” Freyja touched her niece’s shoulder.

Even Lucian could read the bleakness in those dark eyes. “The kind with no antidote.” She drew a deep breath. “There’s a war coming, but it’s not between us. It’s against all of us, and even if we put up a united front, we don’t have a fighting chance without her. So you have one choice—choose to stand and fight, or hide and die.”

TWENTY-ONE

The Curse Awakens

Glimmers of light swung in and out of Victoria’s vision while hot and cold bands of fire and ice riddled her body. Her blood boiled beneath her skin as her consciousness floated in and out. It wanted to escape so badly, but it, too, was trapped, just as she was. Right now, things seemed normal, but she knew that her hold on reality was tenuous. Pan’s toxin was slowly erasing any ability to control her own mind. And soon, she would slip away entirely.

Perhaps this was the best way for her—and the curse—to die. So many coveted her power—even those she had trusted, those who had taken oaths to defend the Witch Clans like Madame Starke. She would always have enemies.

“Tori,” a soft voice said as gentle fingers stroked her jaw.

She pulled what little strength she had left to focus on that sonorous sound. Her lips formed his name. “Christian.”

His face swam into view as did the upper, white-gauzed airy rooms of the temple. She was lying in a bed and he was sitting beside her and locking the clasp of her amulet back into place. They were alone. “My necklace,” she managed. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome. I know you wouldn’t want to be without it.”

Victoria nodded and turned her face, pressing her lips to his warm palm. “I’m sorry … about what happened.”

“I know.”

She hauled a labored breath into her lungs. “I’m glad it was with you.”

“Stop saying your goodbyes,” he said, his finger sliding to her chin and forcing her to look at him.

“This is goodbye,” she whispered. “And maybe it’s for the best. Maybe Pan did me a favor. All this power can’t be good. It’s a curse, Christian. And I’m tired. I’m so tired of being in control all the time.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“But you see, I do. If I don’t, the blood … will do what it wants without conscience, and I cannot allow that to happen.”

“You’re strong, Tori.”

“But maybe I don’t want to be anymore.” A hot tear traced a path down her cheek as a wave of fatigued rolled its way through her. “I need to say goodbye now while I’m me … while I know
you
.”