by LJ Swallow
The two girls remain head to head for a few moments longer, until Ash steps towards them and Yvette backs off.
I'm surprised when Katherine walks beside me instead of crossing the moors to the van at her preternatural speed. She says nothing but glances over at the two witches occasionally.
The guy who drove us here—a shifter with a squat face and broader than average chest who looks suspiciously like a mid—sits in the white van's driver's seat and counts us on one hand as we approach. Seamus already sits at the back of the van, looking out the opposite window, and ignores our arrival.
"Where are the other two?" asks the guard.
"Good question," says Yvette tersely and deliberately pushes against Katherine as she walks to the van door.
For the countless time this evening, Ash swears under his breath before hauling himself into the van too. I make to follow.
"Maeve," whispers Katherine. "Wait."
And for another countless time this evening, I'm surprised by another student's behaviour. "What's wrong?"
"I was high up, on the rocks." She points to her eyes. "And I have night vision."
"Did you see something?" I whisper.
"Kimberly walked off with Sergei. He didn't drag Kimberly away or follow her." My mouth falls open. "I don't know what happened, but she's lying."
"That makes no sense."
"Hurry up!" calls the guard. "It's two a.m. I want sleep."
"Just telling you what I saw. Maybe they're dating and she's too scared to tell Yvette?" Katherine walks towards the van, pausing to pat the guard on the cheek and purr an apology for our delay.
Once I'm in the van, I perch beside Ash, who takes up most of the double seat. Kimberly sits beside Yvette, who continues to loudly fuss over her friend. Katherine takes a seat at the front and produces a hairbrush from her jacket’s inside pocket and pulls long strokes through her hair.
In my early days at the academy, I saw Katherine as my greatest enemy. She disliked my involvement with Ash and once I discovered she's a vampire, I both feared and disliked her. She's still snide but the stunt she pulled in the second challenge did more harm than she intended, and Katherine backed off.
Yvette took her place as my bully and she frightens me more than a lamia vampire. The girl is hellbent on proving hemia vampires—especially Andrei—are a threat to the witches at the academy. She caused trouble for Andrei once; I don't doubt she will again.
The bus warms inside as the driver turns up the heating for our trip back to the academy. Kimberly pulls off her gloves and unwinds the navy blue scarf from her neck. She tugs her curly hair upwards to free the length from inside her coat before smoothing it straight across her neck and shoulders.
Kimberly doesn't reveal her neck for long, but long enough for me catch a glimpse of what I swear is a small set of puncture marks now hidden by her curls.
Chapter Twenty-Three
MAEVE
I don't see Andrei again until the next evening when I arrive at the cottage for our now-daily debrief. He admits to returning to the academy and Ash gives him a mouthful about not pulling his weight in the team. Ash's position as the rugby team captain could help us, but Andrei isn't a team player.
I'm trying to teach Andrei team skills, but unless his need to co-operate helps me, he's stuck in his old ways. Too tired and cross with him after my jaunt across the bloody moors, I didn't go to Andrei last night to ask why he left.
"Did you see Sergei when you decided to leave?" I ask him as I sit.
"No." He rests back and places his feet on the table, legs crossed at the ankles. Jamie shoves them away to get past him to the sofa. "Why?"
"Something is happening between Sergei and Kimberly," I say to Andrei. "Katherine saw them together and I think I saw marks on her neck."
"Sergei?" scoffs Andrei. "He's not a witch-lover and I can't imagine Kimberly dating a vamp."
I glance at Jamie, who I spoke to about this earlier, and our suspicions match. "Not dating him willingly," says Jamie.
Andrei sits forward. "What?"
"Kimberly was genuinely freaked out in the moors. I didn't detect any lies." I chew my lip. "What if Sergei takes Kimberly's blood then wipes her mind?"
"Nah." Andrei frowns. "Sergei is poster boy for hemia self-control. She must be secretly dating him."
"I don't think she is, Andrei," says Jamie softly.
"Wanna bet? I've seen him around campus at night and close to Walcott. I'm accused of stalking because she's with him. I bet Kimberly lets Yvette accuse me so she can hide her activities." Andrei scrunches his face up. "Great."
"Andrei," I press. "I honestly don't think Kimberly knows."
"Uh." Andrei points to his neck. "Marks? She'd notice."
"The only way to prove anything is to follow Kimberly or get into her head and find the truth," says Ash, interrupting the growing tension. "We can't jump to conclusions."
Andrei drops into silence and stares at his boots, hair flopping forward across his face. "Let's not dance around the subject. Witches and vampires date. They feed off each other. Chase the high."
I take a sharp breath and avoid looking at Ash and Jamie. I’m dancing around the subject with Andrei. "Not all witches," says Jamie coldly, "unless there's something you two aren't telling us."
"This isn't supposed to be a conversation about mine and Andrei's relationship, Jamie," I say and lift my eyes to his. "Andrei means witches and vampires dating is common.'"
"Maybe Kimberly feels the need to hide now there's almost a war between Petrescu and Walcott," suggests Ash.
I wish I could agree with him, but I felt Kimberly's fear and confusion.
Andrei's sullen expression remains, but he doesn't speak. I manage to catch his eye, but he looks away. Does Andrei know more than he's telling us? Or is this a reaction to the situation between us?
"Keep an eye on the pair," Ash suggests. "If something dodgy is happening, we can step in."
"We don't have any authority over Petrescu kids," I say.
But we know somebody who does—the elephant in the room. Or rather, the missing mental magic professor.
"And if Sergei hurts or kills Kimberly?" retorts Jamie. "What then?"
"No vamp is dumb enough to attack another student." Andrei huffs. "Sure, I can watch them, but I'm not spending every spare minute stalking the hemia pair."
"Pair?" I tip my head. "What do you mean?"
"Sergei hangs out with Arek." He bites his lip.
"My theory? Whatever lives beneath Petrescu is influencing hemia." Jamie fixes his eyes on Andrei.
"That's a broad statement, Jamie," says Ash in warning.
"Yeah? A previous abstinent hemia and a witch? Whether it's consensual or not, the situation is weird."
I close my eyes. What if Jamie is right and Theodora and the Confederacy's inaction against the threat causes other issues? Jamie's opinion comes from the guy with deeper-seated concerns as a witch who's lived with the issue more than I ever did, but I can't dismiss the idea.
"How's your group challenge going, Jamie?" asks Ash.
"Dude, I know you're trying to police this meeting. Just stop."
My mouth falls open in surprise at Jamie's irritated response and Ash's eyes narrow. "You're in Arek's group. Has anything happened between him and a witch?" he asks.
"No. He didn't turn up to the meeting."
"What about Clive and Remi?" I ask.
"Yeah, they were around, but they disappeared when we took the trip up the moors for the flowers. Our group needed their shifter skills, so we found nothing."
"Weird. He's competitive," comments Ash. "I bet he snuck off somewhere again. Shifted."
"Another bloody problem," grumbles Jamie.
"They'll slip up," says Ash. "I'm determined to follow them."
"Ash, no!" I protest. "We spoke about this."
"Maeve, how else can we figure out what they're doing and who they're meeting? Yeah, Theodora's right, some kids shift and arse
around, but this is more. Clive and Remi once worked with Vince, remember?"
I want to protest again that Vince has disappeared, to echo Theodora's words about the Confederacy watching and waiting, but we all know the Blackwood connection adds a different dimension. He disappeared the same night the witches accosted us at the farmhouse. Vince isn't a shifter hellbent on creating trouble—he's created to cause trouble by witches.
Jamie stands and flops into the armchair instead. "So many fucking problems."
Again, his response and swearing shocks me, as his stress comes through.
“Me and Maeve spoke yesterday,” Ash says cautiously. “About Tobias.”
“What about him?” Andrei half-snarls back. “Has he bothered you again, Maeve?”
“About allowing him to help us,” Ash continues and looks warily between us all.
I don’t need to look at Andrei to sense his opinion. “Maeve?” he asks, voice now harsh.
“Tobias is part of this,” I say softly. “He’s in my visions and helped us deal with everything from the start of the trouble.”
“You don’t actually trust him?” Andrei’s expression shadows with anger and he makes to stand, but I close my hand over his thigh.
“Don’t you dare flounce off,” I warn.
Ash chuckles loudly enough to cause Andrei to scowl. “I don’t flounce.”
“Then don’t act like a kid and disappear as soon as something bothers you,” puts in Ash.
For a moment Andrei looks ahead, jaw clenched hard. Sometimes I think Andrei feels Tobias betrayed him, and that he feels that as strongly as I do. Andrei knows Tobias hid secrets from him, and I didn’t dare tell Andrei that I knew many of them. Tobias's hybrid status definitely bothers Andrei.
“Andrei. I’m dealing with my situation in the best way I can.”
Andrei scoffs. “He killed your family.”
“Birth family.” I withdraw my hand. “My life is complicated. Please don’t make things worse by adding more conflict.”
Sinking back against the sofa, Andrei crosses his arms. I swear I see a pout before he rubs his face.
“I’ve more information on the Winterfalls,” says Jamie cautiously. “I wanted to sit down and talk to you about what I’ve found, Maeve.”
My hands begin to tremble as they do every time someone mentions the name. “Helpful?”
“Hopefully.”
Jamie’s attempt to change the conversation fails as the atmosphere crackles with tension. I groan when Andrei stands.
“Don’t worry, I won’t ‘flounce’. We’re meeting at the potions room to try the next step in the challenge, remember?” he says to Ash.
I pull a face. “Can’t we have a night off?”
“Take that up with Katherine. She’s obsessed about winning.”
“Not too obsessed, I hope,” says Jamie sharply. “We all know what she can do.”
“One more step out of line and she’s expelled,” Andrei replies. “I can’t wait until Katherine and Yvette come head to head over something,” he says with too much glee, but at least he’s dropped the conversation about Tobias.
Jamie watches the door as Ash and Andrei disappear through, then sits beside me. I curl my legs underneath myself and turn to him, trying to quell the queasiness in my stomach. He leans down and pulls a dark blue, leather-bound book from his bag and hands it to me.
“This seems the most comprehensive history, but I can’t find any trace of spell books.”
“Oh.” My spirits sink as I clutch the book.
“There’s information about the family line and the magic associated with them.” He pauses. “This is more a story than helpful.”
“Learning something about them will help.” Gingerly, I open the cover and stare at the title page: The History of the Winterfall Family. “If this is a simple book, why couldn’t you find it straightaway?”
“Good question.” Jamie arches both brows.
My fingers rest on the smooth paper. “Did you sense anything when you held the book?”
“Not much. This is academic, not personal to the family.”
Personal. “Jamie. I have something from the Winterfalls. Could you hold them and tell me what you see?”
He straightens. “What? How?”
I’ve kept the envelope in my bag at all times since Marie gave me the rune stones and letter from my mother, but never mentioned them to anybody. If I ignored they existed, I didn’t need to face the truth, but I couldn’t risk losing them.
I unzip the inner pocket of my black rucksack and pull out the envelope. Jamie watches, wide-eyed, as I tip the stones onto the table. “Marie says these are Winterfall runes.”
Reaching out, Jamie takes one between his thumb and forefinger as if taking hold of a fragile egg. “These are old—look how rough the stone is. Have you searched for pictures of the runes?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t looked at the runes since the day Marie passed them on. I don't know what to do with the stones.”
Jamie pulls a sympathetic face and curls his fingers around the rune in his hand. I watch expectantly as he closes his eyes and inhales. His fist tightens for a moment and then he opens them. “Nothing.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “Nothing at all?”
“Sorry.”
“Not your fault,” I mumble and turn another page in the book. “At least I have something connected to the Winterfalls. That's a start.”
Jamie places his hand over mine before I can leaf further through. “There are photos, Maeve.”
The queasiness grows. “Any of my mother? Her name was Astrid.”
“Family portraits from over the years. She must be in some.”
I snatch my hand away as if the book burnt me. I tell the guys I'm coping with the situation, but the moment anything comes up connected to the Winterfalls, I panic.
“Do you want me to take the book away, Maeve?” Jamie asks and begins to slide it from my lap.
“No.” I put a hand on his to stop him. “I want to see the photos.”
As I move to mould myself against Jamie’s side, he wraps his arm around me, and I tentatively turn pages. I’m grateful for the peace sitting close to him brings.
I will read every page, but I’m only interested in one aspect right now: the photos.
But do I want to see pictures of my birth family?
The images in the book range from older illustrations to brown and white early images resembling Victorian portraits, then onto brighter, colour photographs. My mother's name appears below some. I flick past the ones of her as a baby and a child, until I come across a photo of a teenage girl.
My mending heart rips as if it were paper thin.
Astrid looks like me.
“Is this what you didn't want me to see?” I ask, voice thick with tears.
Jamie hugs me tighter and flicks forward through the book. “Yes, but Astrid was older when the family died and she didn’t look like that.” He taps a picture of a woman in her thirties with plaited hair. "This is Astrid."
I swallow at his connotation—Astrid didn’t look like me when Tobias killed her. I'm drawn into their lives: the same bookshelves and furniture behind each photo throughout the years, the similarities between family members and a new reality hits me.
They're unfamiliar. I was never part of this.
“Did anything survive the fire?” I ask as I leaf through. “This house is beautiful.”
“The estate still exists but the building is in ruins.”
I chew my lip. Would I like to visit?
The last few show the whole family. They’re lined up in the way I’ve seen pictures of the royal family, children in front of austere-looking adults, all in formal clothing. They’re standing beneath a row of portraits attached to a wall painted white and blue. Astrid has hair in a similar style to Amelia’s in this photo, and stands beside a blonde, attractive couple who must be my grandparents. The woman in the centre wears a long blue gown and her white
hair is scraped upwards into a severe bun.
This must be the woman who cursed Tobias: my great-grandmother. Tears sting my eyes. The image is dated 2000—the year before I was born. I’m missing from the Winterfall history.
I can’t bear to look at any more, but as I close the book, I stop myself.
Is my father in here? Marie doesn’t know who he was, but maybe one guy appears more than others?
She’s alone in the most recent photos and I recognise the sadness in her expression from when I’ve seen the same in mine. I study another one dated 2001. Astrid sits on a chair that features in many of the photos—a chaise with a studded gold border around the velvet in a blue that matches her eyes, the winged arms decorated the same. Two men sit either side of her, and another stands behind with his hands on her shoulders. None share her pale features; these can’t be family members.
I peer closer. The two men on the seat have short brown hair, both attractive guys, but one has a slimmer build like Jamie’s and the other is slightly taller and broader. The guy standing has hair that touches his ears and a smile dimples his face, whereas the others hold serious expression. They’re dressed formally, although only the guy seated on the right appears comfortable in a suit. Astrid wears a simple cream-coloured dress with capped sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. A pendant with a milky-white jewel hangs just above her breasts.
Unlike the other pictures, Astrid’s face shines as if these men brought the light to her eyes.
I run a shaking finger beneath.
Names.
Astrid Winterfall. Tomas Devlin. Xavier Lucan. Nathaniel Willowbrook.
One shares my aunt’s name. Who's who?
I moisten my dry lips—which guy is my father?
“Do these men appear anywhere else?” I ask. “Are they mentioned in the book?”
Jamie scratches an eyebrow. “I didn't read everything in the book—I haven’t had time. Did Marie tell you your father’s name?”
“No. Are these men all witches?” He nods. “Powerful?”