At Blade's Edge

by Lauren Dane

  Damn, she was going to make him wear that face later when they had sexytimes because his haughty was on a hundred and it made all her bells and whistles ding ding ding.

  Arthur paused, as if thinking of the right words. Clive was so fast Rowan didn’t even see the strike. She only knew he’d cuffed his uncle when the other Vampire went to his knees.

  No one tried to stop Clive or tell him such things were unnecessary. They were because Arthur made it so. This sort of thing was part and parcel of a whole lot of family and business meetings between Vampires.

  Arthur tried to take his feet again, but Thomas, the other brother, stopped him with a hand at his shoulder.

  “Terribly rude of my brother.” He didn’t smile at Rowan, but she didn’t need him to. “I’m Thomas Stewart.”

  Charles stepped forward, closer to Rowan, aligning himself with her as he introduced her. “Rowan Summerwaite, Vessel, Hunter, daughter of The First, bonded mate to Clive Stewart, and newest member of House Stewart, these are my brothers, Thomas and Arthur.” He sent a disgusted look at them both.

  “I’m told some people just send a fruit basket and don’t head straight to insults when they meet someone new, but you know, to each his own I suppose.” Rowan raised one shoulder.

  “Some creatures don’t know how to act,” Antonia said with a sniff. “Get up, Arthur. Make your apologies and let’s be done with this nonsense. Otherwise, be gone.”

  He swung his gaze up to Antonia and she simply stared him down. Rowan could see these two were going to be a problem, but they weren’t that big a problem and in the end, they were just two more dumbass Vampires who needed to be knocked down a few pegs.

  Luckily, that was one of her favorite pastimes.

  Rowan sighed and turned her back on Arthur to speak to Clive. A calculated insult.

  “I do need to make a call. I’ll return shortly.”

  Clive withheld a smile of approval, but it was in his eyes.

  Once she’d left the room, Clive turned his attention back to his uncles. “I was under the impression you’d been informed a certain level of decorum was required on your part to attend me and my wife this evening.”

  “She’s quite the firecracker,” Antonia said as she sipped her drink, watching the situation.

  “She’s a mongrel and a stain on this family,” Arthur said right before Clive hit him so hard he nearly snapped his uncle’s neck.

  “Your time to run roughshod over this issue has long passed. I am out of patience.” Clive sneered, his lip curled at the mess his uncle made there, still on the floor.

  “You would take this family into the gutter with you? This honorable line we’ve built for centuries into the powerhouse it is now? You would take the work of your elders and piss it all away?” Thomas asked.

  “The gutter? Enlighten me, Thomas, as to your theory.” Clive eased a hip against the edge of a table.

  “You’re Scion. You do this family and the Nation a disservice by bringing that cur into it.”

  Clive’s laughter wasn’t amused at all. “You’re aware, I’m sure, that my wife was raised by our leader. I’m quite sure he’d look askance at anyone referring to the person he considers his daughter as a cur. Perhaps you should ask him when you see him next.” Clive paused. “Oh, yes, but you can’t. Because of everyone in this room, of everyone in this house, it is I who has that sort of access. And when my wife returns, none on this continent has the sort of connection and access to our leader, the heart of the Vampire Nation, save her. Your ignorance does a disservice to House Stewart and to the Vampire Nation.”

  “Why isn’t she doing her own defending? It’s her place to do so if there are questions,” Thomas said, stepping around the truth Clive had just spoken.

  Clive should have pitied them.

  “She’ll return shortly, you bloody fool.” He shook his head at them.

  “I’m appalled at you,” Charles said. “You come into my home and treat one of my guests in a way you gave your word you would not do. Our father would have been disgusted at your lack of honor.”

  “He’s dead. His honor didn’t save him.”

  Charles’ power came up hard and icy cold as it snapped over the room and everyone in it. “Do not speak in such a manner. Not in my home. Not in my family.”

  Clive could count the number of times he’d seen his father murderously angry on two hands. Centuries of living and Charles Stewart’s control was legendary. He would get revenge, but he’d never lose a chance at it because he lost his temper or let an opponent manipulate his emotions that way.

  “Our father’s honor is what allowed you to exist.” Charles stared his brothers down. “It’s my sufferance that allows you to stay that way.”

  “Seriously, you guys.” Rowan came into the room. “You have centuries of life, money, power, all that and you still bicker over the stupidest shit.”

  Clive let out a breath he’d been holding since she’d been so careful and reserved earlier. This was his Rowan and he preferred this version far more than the one she thought he needed.

  “I believe you’re about to meet my wife, for real this time.” Clive poured himself another glass of bloodwine.

  “Your wife doesn’t have time for this. I have real things to do. Whining Vampires aren’t that hard to find if I really needed to hear it. But I don’t.” She walked past his uncles, totally ignoring them.

  “I take it you had an eventful phone call?” Clive asked, amused and charmed by this creature he loved so much.

  “Sometimes, dear Scion, I do have positive phone calls. It’s nice to know that still works.” She cast a glance over her shoulder to his uncles. “They still bent that you married a human? I mean, I’m sure you explained I wasn’t human and all, but that’s not really the issue anyway. But, I have neither the time nor the inclination to hear about daddy issues. Those two are the type to complain their sack of gold is too heavy. Boo hoo.”

  Before Thomas or Arthur could reply, she turned to take them in with a slow, ultimately dismissive glance from toe to head.

  “You’re not worth my time or concern.”

  “I say! You’re an interloper into this family. I am a Vampire who is centuries older than you, human.” Arthur tugged on the hem of his vest, attempting to set himself to rights. “It’s like the sixties all over again.” He sneered at Clive after making the jab.

  Rowan sighed. “Are they like this all the time?” she asked Clive.

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Your opinions are utterly meaningless to me. And really, you’re both too stupid and weak for me to ever bother listening to. So, here’s the deal—and I suggest you listen—because I have to be somewhere in a few minutes. Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours. I have enough problems, gentlemen, don’t be more.”

  “Or what?” Arthur asked.

  “Or I’ll end you. I don’t waste time with threats. That’s a promise.” Done with them, she spoke to Clive’s parents. “Thank you for dinner and the conversation. I apologize but I do need to rush off to break and enter.”

  “We don’t want to stand in the way of that,” Antonia said.

  Clive’s father took Rowan’s hand, her left, which meant he left her weapon hand free. Rowan understood it, tipping her chin deferentially. “It was a pleasure to welcome you to House Stewart. I apologize for the impression my brothers made and hope it does not reflect on your feelings.”

  “Every family has those relatives. I get it.”

  Charles looked at Clive for a moment before laughter burst from his lips. “Indeed.”

  “Don’t look at me as if you’re planning to leave me here,” Clive told her as they headed out. She’d ignored his uncles, made sure to say her goodbyes to the staff and he’d let her pretend she was leaving alone until she came to a startled
halt where he’d been waiting at the front doors.

  “I figured you’d want to be with your parents.”

  “They’ve been my parents a long time. They’ll be so for a long time to come I imagine. Where you go, I go. Especially if it means I’ll be permitted to watch you rough people up.”

  “You’re a pain in my ass, Scion.”

  “Until death we do part.” He risked a quick kiss and let her take the lead. He didn’t sigh wistfully as she continued down the walk, past their car and driver.

  “Don’t start crying about your shoes,” she whispered over her shoulder.

  “They’re very nice shoes and we have a car. I’m thinking of you as well,” he whispered back. “You’re wearing heels.”

  “Exactly. And which one of us is weeping over it? Crybaby.”

  He smiled at her back, knowing she smiled too.

  Just a few blocks away, she hailed a cab and shot him a look.

  “Someone is asking to be disciplined,” he murmured as he settled in next to her.

  “You’re very self-destructive.” She gave the address of a pub just around the square from their home and once they’d been dropped off, they headed to the house.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Are you telling me you took a cab home instead of the car for spite?” Clive asked as he followed her into the house and upstairs.

  “Well, I did plan to walk over to Roth’s house, but then I realized I’d left several things here I might need like my sword and lock pick tools so I changed the plan. It was a bonus to needle you a little after having to spend the evening with your fucking family.”

  He waltzed her into his arms, fully aware she allowed it. He kissed her, also fully aware she allowed that.

  “You’re magnificent.”

  “You just want to see my boobs.”

  “You already let me see them.”

  She laughed. “I do. You can see them again briefly as I change into my breaking into someone’s house while they’re at some stupid party with a bunch of other vapid assholes outfit.”

  He headed to his closet to change from his suit into something far more amenable to such behavior.

  “Are those jeans pressed? Goddess mine,” Rowan muttered as she came downstairs looking comfortable enough for a little crime.

  “There’s no need to act uncivilized. I have a staff for a reason.” He sniffed. “If someone sees me, I like to not appear to live in a bin.”

  “Bin as in trash can?”

  “It’s a boot and a bonnet and a bin. And they’re biscuits.”

  “Don’t forget to lecture me on how they’re crisps and chips are what you eat with fish.”

  “Are you mocking me?”

  “Maybe a little. You don’t need to accompany me. I was sneaky and stuff before you arrived, you know. Some people think I’m a pretty big deal. And I’ve got Genevieve meeting me there for some magical help.”

  “Of course I know. I want to accompany you. I get what I want. So let’s speak of this no more.”

  She rolled her eyes, but led him out the back through the alley behind the mews house.

  “David is in place, keeping surveillance on Roth and his dumb hooker of a girlfriend. He says they’re still having cocktail hour before the dinner, but I want to keep this tight.”

  Genevieve waited for them at the corner, stepping into sight as if she’d teleported there. Rowan needed to ask if that was something she could do because it seemed like a super cool power, spell, whatever.

  “Your aura is stronger when he’s with you,” Genevieve told her without preamble as they skirted around the back of Roth’s place.

  “Hot Vampire husbands are the new black, I hear.”

  Clive gave her a brief look, his mouth curving up slightly.

  Rowan texted David, who conferred momentarily with Carey before giving them the go ahead once the alarm system routed around the back door she then opened with a quick flick of her tools.

  Once inside, Genevieve had them be still as she did some sort of spell. “We’re clear. No one will see or hear our presence. The house is empty. If you’ll allow me to take a tour of the rooms while you remain here, I can get a better idea of anything magical used to hide something.”

  Rowan nodded as Genevieve left.

  “She’s like no witch I’ve ever met,” Clive said. “Her power is...there is a great deal of it. And yet the flavor is...” He shook his head. “I’ve never sensed its like.”

  It was easy enough after a bit to figure out what sort of witch one was dealing with. Magic had a sort of flavor or scent. Though the origin of spells and that sort of thing was way out of her league.

  “Yeah, she’s one of a kind I think,” Rowan murmured. In her belly, Rowan knew Genevieve was important. Not just to this investigation, but to Rowan’s future. The Goddess agreed.

  Clive said nothing further, though Rowan knew he would be thinking on how that would affect them. What political outcomes may occur, how it would keep Rowan safe or not.

  Rowan may not have been perfect at the wife game, but she knew he wanted to protect her. Knew he put her first every opportunity he got. It settled her prickly nerves.

  Ten minutes later, Genevieve came back to them, motioning for them to join her. They followed her into Roth’s closet.

  “There.” She pointed. “He’s got a repulsion spell here. Tells your attention to shift elsewhere. It’s not elegant, or that sturdy, but it’s quite good for what it is. Someone with a gift that hasn’t been trained, most likely.”

  “You should be my profiler,” Rowan said as she went to a crouch in front of the fancy pants panel just beneath a chair rail. In a fucking closet. “I was in this room and didn’t see it at all.”

  “This is the most fun I’ve had in ages.” Genevieve’s voice was lazily affectionate. More human than the otherworldly tone she took on when deep within certain types of magic she worked.

  Genevieve continued. “I can’t say if it was added recently or not, chances are it was given the relative strength. I wanted you to feel it before I unraveled it.”

  Rowan nodded her thanks as she forced herself to focus and examine the area. Now wasn’t the time to wonder how many clues she might have missed because of such spells. Now was the time to figure out how to see through the trick the next time.

  “Tell me how you see it,” she asked Genevieve. Rowan didn’t have magic. Not like practitioners did. But that didn’t mean she had to be totally helpless. There were always paths around an obstacle.

  It was all a matter of what one was willing to pay to get there.

  The truth of it was, Rowan was fairly certain she’d be dealing with a lot more magic in the future. It had come to live in her gut ever since she’d first dealt with the Vampire serial killer she’d had to put down in Vegas two years before.

  Genevieve said, “There’s magic in every day things. Everything emits it on some level. A spell changes what is supposed to be.”

  Clive had his haughty magic is woo woo and science is science face on, though he remained diplomatically silent. This, from a guy who was nearly half a millennia old. A fucking Vampire. He could be so condescending to anything he perceived as a threat to logic and reason.

  If Genevieve slapped him down, it’d be rightfully so.

  Instead, she waved a hand lazily. The Genevieve version of an eye roll once she caught his expression. “Just because you can explain something scientifically doesn’t mean it’s not magic. The entire universe is magic in myriad forms. It’s comets and atoms. It’s the double helix. You can call it science, but it’s all magic, including Vampires.”

  Clive tipped his chin slightly. “A valid point, Ms. Aubert, and one I take as a rightful correction.”

  Genevieve nodded her acceptance of
his apology.

  “Back to your question, Rowan. When I’m in a place I sift through it, looking, feeling what should be here and then what shouldn’t stands out. That’s the spell, usually. My explanation is inelegant. This is not an act that words do justice to.”

  Having tried on more than one occasion to describe what it was like to have a Goddess inside her body, Rowan understood that very well.

  “I get that. More than you know. I appreciate your answer, which I found quite elegant, to be honest with you. In any case, I do much the same when I investigate a scene,” Rowan told her.

  Rowan got to her feet, stepping back. “I look for places where seams fit. That’s where most hidey holes are. Secret doors or drawers. Old Vamps have the best antiques with places to secret things in.”

  She continued to examine the room until she realized there was a very slight change in the energy level around her when her gaze hit what was the outer edge of the spell.

  So slight and nearly perfect Rowan wasn’t sure she would notice it again, especially if a lot of people were in the room, or if it was noisy or held distractions. She knew for a fact she’d already been in this room the day before and saw nothing.

  Rowan hated that she’d failed. “Even right now after I’ve touched and examined that spot closely, I can barely see it.”

  “I think the point here would be to accept you cannot be perfect. It’s a hard lesson for creatures such as we. You’re not a practitioner. You have other gifts. For those times your gifts aren’t enough, you have friends.” Genevieve drew something in the air and the spell seemed to lessen a bit. Enough that Rowan caught the edge of a panel she’d touched several times and hadn’t seen the latch on. Saw the edge of it much clearer than she had.

  With a slight pop and rush of energy, the magic seemed to fall away entirely, revealing the hiding spot.

  “He got this spell somewhere and he got the money for it too. This can’t have been cheap.” Now that Rowan could see the panel, she made sure there were no booby traps before she actually opened it up. “Is this clear? Can I open it?” she asked Genevieve, who assured her it was.