by LJ Rivers
“That might be so, but what about Karl? Vampires don’t go around killing each other anymore, and there is no way to hide the fact that Petra was there. I realize you want to keep a lid on her involvement, Solis, but I may have to use it to my advantage. There is still a lot of prejudice toward vampires mating with shifters, and even though most of us believe in loving whomever we want, some still frown upon such a union. If I can work the angle that rogue vampires attacked them because of their involvement with each other, and not because Petra lured him into a trap, it might work to our benefit. That, of course, means allowing everyone to know the romantic nature of their relationship, but I don’t see a way to avoid it.”
Rosamund sighed and nodded. “I’ll allow it. Let’s make sure our stories align, though.”
Saga stood and put her palms flat on the table. “Excellent. This will do. I’ll keep Leon and Camryn working on the dhampirs, but I’ve allowed them to go to her uncle’s memorial on Wednesday. Right now, they are both staying here, at least until the matter is resolved.”
“She’s here?” Albrecht asked.
“In one of my guest cabins, but tonight isn’t the time for introductions. She’s grieving, and as long as we have all decided to keep her on our good side, I suggest we grant her this time.”
As the meeting came to its conclusion, Leon excused himself and wandered outside. The night air was brisk as he leaned on the balcony railing. Below, a net of winding pathways snaked across the garden before unfolding before the fields. The path that went right led to the guest cabin where Camryn was staying. Candlelight flickered in her living room window, and he started down the steps before catching himself. The day had been eventful enough, and she hadn’t had time to really deal with her loss. What made him think she would lean on him? Saga was right. Tonight, Camryn needed to be left alone.
He inhaled the scent of roses and lavender as he took the path winding left. The taste of the leaders’ strong emotions lingered on his tongue, and he wanted to put distance between himself and them. As he neared the cabin he was staying in, the rustle of wind and the song of crickets were the only sounds in the world.
Chapter Eighteen
Feet on the dashboard, I arranged a bag of pretzels and my water bottle in the car door, along with my earbuds in case I wanted to listen to an audiobook on the drive.
As Leon turned on the car, a cheesy pop song blared to life, punishing my eardrums.
I eyeballed him. “Didn’t peg you for a fourteen-year-old girl.”
He huffed and changed the settings from what was apparently a readily made playlist to the first radio station that came on. “That’s Noelle’s.”
“And that,” I pointed out, “is country. Nope, this won’t do. I’m gonna connect my phone so we can listen to real music.”
After trying to pair my phone with the bluetooth in the car for five minutes, it finally connected, and I grinned when “The Trooper” by Iron Maiden was the first song to shuffle into play. As I leaned back, preparing to belt out the lyrics, the car came to a stop. “What? You don’t like my choice of music?” I frowned, realizing where we were. “Why are we here?”
Before he could answer, a familiar woman strutted through the gateway toward us, a shiny black suitcase on wheels rolling along behind her. Rosamund could contest any of the original Hollywood sweethearts of the 60s with her attire, not to mention her confidence and inherent grace. A black, wide-brimmed sun hat with an actual massive bow on it shaded her already well-shaded eyes—seeing as she was wearing horn-rimmed sunglasses. The white pantsuit looked like a million bucks, and the black belt completed the outfit. I couldn’t pull that off even if I tried.
Part of me didn’t want her to come, but I recalled what Noelle had said about her grief last night, and I wasn’t about to deny her the right to say goodbye.
She tapped her fingers on my window, and I pushed the button to slide it open “I hope you don’t mind riding in the back, Cam. I like to see the road when I’m riding in a car.” She tipped her sunglasses down so I could see her piercing eyes. “And what is that infernal noise?”
I disconnected my phone, let the radio take over with some tear-jerker about lost love, a truck, and a bottle of whiskey, opened the door, and went outside.
“All yours,” I said.
She got in, handed me my stuff, and pushed the seat back a few inches. “Oh, and Cam, could you put my suitcase in the back, please?”
“Sure,” I muttered. This was shaping up to be a super fun drive.
After deliberating, I decided to take the seat behind Rosamund. Leon had longer legs and needed more legroom, and while Rosamund had pushed her seat further back, I’d have just a tiny bit more room for my long fish sticks. Once I was settled, Leon added some coordinates to the GPS and took us back on the road.
“I have spoken to Wolfgang,” Rosamund said over her shoulder. “He’s made arrangements for our accommodation tonight where the memorial will take place. He assured me there’s plenty of space and rooms.”
“Where?” I asked.
“A farm outside Copenhagen, where he’s staying with his wife. I’m not sure, but he mentioned something about horses.”
“Huh.” I had known Wolfgang most of my life, but I’d only ever met his wife on a couple of occasions, as they only got together sometime in my teens. Since he lived in Sweden, granted just a short trip from Copenhagen, I had never really considered her rare appearances before, but it was a bit odd. When I was younger, Wolfgang was one of my tutors, and a second uncle to boot, but he was usually the one to come to us. That, or I would meet him someplace outside, like on the shore or in the woods somewhere.
Rosamund changed the channel on the radio. Her choice of music turned out to be jazz. I was more of a rock kind of gal, but at least it wasn’t opera.
I pulled my legs up, resting my knees on the back of Rosamund’s seat. Eight hours, I told myself, that is all. Of course, if I gave it some thought, that meant sixteen hours, counting the commute, and only if we didn’t make any stops on the way. It would probably add up to more like twenty hours all in all, and I had my suspicions that I would need to keep her company for the duration of the trip. Just my luck. Good thing we had started the drive in the early hours of the morning.
It wasn’t so much that I disliked the woman, but even though I had started to come to terms with being a witch, I was still having some adjustment issues. People who could turn into animals—and especially cats—being in the top three on my list of things that weirded me out about the veiled world.
“Your destiny lies with me.” The commanding voice of Darth Vader interrupted the music, startling me. “In two hundred meters, turn right onto—”
“May the force be with you,” I quipped.
“Best movie franchise ever,” Leon said earnestly.
Rosamund adjusted her hat and tilted her head to the side. “I much prefer that series with the dragons and their mother. She would have made an excellent Solis. Well, before she went batshit crazy at the end, that is.”
“I like that one too,” I admitted, happy to find we shared some common ground.
Rosamund and Leon engaged in conversation as I gazed at the world blowing by outside. I hadn’t seen Edwin since Christmas, and that was the last time I would get to look upon his face or soak up his many words of wisdom. There were so many things I wanted to ask him, but whatever secrets he had kept from me was going to the grave along with him.
“You have learned much, young one,” Vader commented when we arrived at the farm, which lay just a twenty-minute drive from the city.
The drive had gone better than anticipated—although I hadn’t anticipated the lengthy stop to charge the car—and Rosamund turned out to be good company. Mostly, though, I had tried to immerse myself in an audiobook while the grown-ups chatted amongst themselves, but for the life of me, I couldn't recall a single word the narrator had spoken. My thoughts had circled around the thousands of questions I needed answered about
, well, everything. My life, this veiled world, witches, vampires, and my late uncle Edwin. As I pulled out my earbuds and shut down the audiobook app, I didn't even notice what book I had chosen.
I closed the car door, inhaling the smell of hay and soil, moist from a recent rainfall in these parts. There were pigs, goats, hens, and yes, horses, outside, enjoying the still radiant sunlight. My sneakers worked well enough in a place like this, but Rosamund’s designer heels would cause her grief. To my surprise, she stepped out of the car barefoot. Her pant legs were rolled up to her knees, her stilettos dangled from her fingertips, and her feet were now soaking in the mud.
“Wonderful. I might go for a run here later tonight.” She strode toward the one-story farmhouse, which was flanked by what looked like adjacent small apartments. “Be a dear and grab my suitcase, Cam.”
I made a mock bow at her back, then turned toward the trunk, bumping straight into the wall that was Leon.
“I’ll get the luggage.” A smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
“You can take hers if you want, but I can carry my own stuff.”
When Leon and I finally reached the door, Rosamund had already disappeared inside, and loud voices issued from the next room. I looked at my partner, who shrugged, and the two of us went into the hallway, where we dropped the luggage and took off our muddy shoes.
The notes from a piano started up, and we followed the sound into the living room. Wolfgang was playing a tune by Grieg I couldn’t recall the name of, while Rosamund had somehow gotten a glass of wine and made herself acquainted with Wolfgang’s wife, Christelle.
I gave Christelle a wave of my fingers.
“Camryn,” she exclaimed. “Oh my, I haven’t seen you since you were a teenager. What a woman you’ve become.” She came over and embraced me before introducing herself to Leon.
I let the others talk while I neared the piano and took a seat next to Wolfgang.
He flashed me a toothy smile, separating the bush of beard that stretched from the whiskers at the corners of his cheekbones to cover the lower part of his face, as well as a good portion of his throat. It was thicker than I remembered. While before, it had been a rich russet brown, it was now a blend of rusty red, gray, and white. He was a broad man, so I perched on the edge, leaning on his shoulder, the familiar warmth of his presence soothing me.
He switched up the music to a tune I knew well. I remembered how I used to call it “The Cam Cam” when I was little, and how Wolfgang never corrected me. All he did was chuckle and smile. Edwin, on the other hand, was adamant about how, in actuality, the song is called “The Can Can” and was composed by Offenbach. No matter its name, it was about the only one I had ever managed to learn how to play, because Wolfgang and I played it together, and my part was fairly easy. I put my fingers to the tangents, missed a note, and laughed softly. Our fingers danced next to and over each other, creating harmonies. The music opened a door in my heart I had kept closed for years, and I recalled the girl I had once been. My childhood had been brief, but Wolfgang had given me glimpses of how I imagined a childhood looked like for normal kids throughout my upbringing.
When we finished, Christelle clapped her hands together. “If you two can wrench yourselves away from the piano, we had better eat before the food gets cold.”
“Yes, dear,” Wolfgang said. “Take our guests with you. Cam and I will be in shortly.”
When the door swung shut into where I assumed the dining room was, I threw my arms around Wolfgang’s neck. He held me tight and drew in a deep breath through his nose. “You’ve grown into such a strong woman. I’ve missed you, Buttercup.”
“I’m not a kid, uncle. I keep telling you I’m too old to be called Buttercup.”
He pulled back, gripping my shoulders, shaking me gently from side to side, and a laugh bubbled out of my throat. “Nah, still my Buttercup.”
He let go, and I caught myself, slightly ashamed at my outburst of joy.
“You’re allowed to laugh, Cam. Edwin wouldn’t want you to shut down just because he’s gone.”
My fingers stroked the tangents. “I miss him so much.”
“And tomorrow we’ll give him the send off he deserves. Tonight, on the other hand, let’s remember him fondly. We’ll drink, celebrate, and laugh ourselves silly. Deal?”
“Deal.” I tugged at his beard. “You’ve grown old.”
“In my prime, I’d say.”
“Nah, just old.”
“There’s the Cam I know and adore. Now, let’s join the others before Christelle comes in here and gives me a lashing.”
“Who owns this place, anyway?” I asked as we crossed the room.
“It belongs to Dunstan, Edwin’s attorney. He owns several estates, and was generous enough to let us stay here for the week. The people who tend to the farm live in the smaller houses around the main house, and Dunstan uses this one whenever he wants to get away from the city.”
“He must be some attorney.”
“He caters to a special kind of clientele.”
Before I could ask what Wolfgang meant, he opened the door. I glanced down at his bare legs. His wide shorts reached just below his knees, unable to hide the prosthesis posing as his right foot.
“You got a new one?” I pointed at it.
“Titanium and carbon.” He bent down and tapped it with his knuckles. “Light as a feather, strong as steel. They make them better than ever. If it wasn’t for the phantom pains, I’d hardly notice it.”
“It looks great.”
He strode to the table with an easy gait and held out a chair for me. It never ceased to impress me how effortlessly he moved around on that thing, although I had sometimes caught him limping more when he thought no one was watching. “Sit down, Buttercup.”
I shook my head and joined the dinner party. And Wolfgang was right; it was a night of celebration, with a fair share of liquid fun. We shared stories about Edwin, and though I wanted to ask Wolfgang if he knew anything about my guardian’s double life, I couldn’t ask him outright, as the veiled world was meant to be a secret. I would find a roundabout way to broach the topic, but it would have to wait until after we had said our goodbyes, and had both celebrated and mourned the man he was.
Then I would worry about the witch I had never known, and who had murdered him.
Chapter Nineteen
“Who are all these people?” I stared in awe at what had to be close to sixty people gathered in the meadow beyond the cornfield. Several tall pots with blooming flowers in all colors gave the air a sweet scent, and someone had braided ornaments from grass and plants, most of which I couldn’t name. Laid out in two rows on either side, they created a form of pathway from the house to where the memorial would take place.
The sun licked the golden fields to my left and lit the crowd ahead. It warmed my face, and I shut my eyes, taking a moment to stay in its sweet embrace before the shadows in my heart consumed me.
“Edwin must have had a lot of friends,” Leon said.
I realized I had stopped, and resumed walking. “That’s the thing. He didn’t. Not that I know of. I can count on one hand the people he introduced as friends. Do you think his girlfriend is here? What was her name again?”
“Estelle,” Rosamund caught up with us, donning a bell-shaped straw hat, yet still managing to look glamorous. Her white pantsuit had been replaced by a jade-colored two-piece, showing two triangles of skin above her hips. No shoes, I noticed.
“You must really like mud between your toes.” Polishing my poor people skills was not a priority today.
“It makes me feel nearer to my animal. I do love a pair of gorgeous heels, but those are more suited for city life. Besides, nothing compares to grinding a little dirt beneath my feet.”
Nothing? I found I liked Rosamund better for it. “Do you know any of these people?”
“I don’t believe so. There might be some familiar faces, but there aren’t a lot of cats in this area. If I’m not mistaken, there
’s at least one herd of werestags in this territory. Mainly, though, the further north you get, the more witches you’ll find.”
“Wait, werestags? That sounds made up.” As if the entire veiled world didn’t?
“You’d be surprised at the variety of breeds you’ll find in the veiled world. Stags, lynxes, falcons. Just like some regular species of animals can go extinct, so can the veiled ones, and many have, over the years. Also, there are veiled species I’ve only heard tales of that I’m not convinced are even real. Depending on where you go in the world, you’ll discover new species and spellweavers beyond the veil. The veiled world population is much smaller than the human one, of course. Still, that doesn’t mean we aren’t plentiful.”
Once again, I was reminded of my ignorance. I snickered as the word werestag re-entered my mind. “What kind of shifters live in Denmark, then?”
Leon offered me his arm as we crested a small hill, and I held my palm out in a “no thanks”-gesture. He tapped a finger to his cheek, regarding the gathering ahead. “You’ll find that shifters like to live in areas where their animals exist naturally, so they can more easily blend in with their environment. Denmark isn’t the best place for blending, due to its topography. There might be a nest of birds of one kind or another, as well as the stags. Otherwise, there are mostly witches in these parts, along with a few rogues, I reckon. There are hardly any vampires north of Berlin because of the long winters. Ursula holds the northernmost vampire region that I’m aware of.”
“That’s sort of a relief.” We exited the path and strolled onto the soft grass in the clearing, and I paused to study the crowd. One group was singing something in a language I didn’t recognize, another walked around the edges of the crowd, white smoke billowing around them as they waved bundles of burning lavender and sage around, judging by the smell. “Hold up. Are these witches?”
“For the most part.” Wolfgang approached, eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t sure you were in the know, but when I caught Rosamund’s scent while she was chasing a mouse last night, I decided to have a chat with her this morning. It appears I’ve got some explaining to do, and I promise I’ll tell you everything. After the memorial.”