Queen of The Hill (Knight Games)

by Genevieve Jack

  “Oh, Dad,” I said, wiping his tears away. “I know you’re not crazy. I know all about vampires.”

  He stopped, searched my face. Then erased the board. How? he scribbled.

  I looked down at my fingers resting on his blanket. “It’s a long story.”

  Crooking the fingers of one hand, he motioned for me to tell him. “I’m a witch,” I whispered. “And my job is to make sure vampires who do this to humans are punished.”

  A raspy scoff broke my father’s lips. He shook his head.

  “I’m not teasing you.” I met his eyes and held out my hand, right over his whiteboard. Muttering a spell under my breath, I conjured a tiny blue star over my palm. “I’d produce a full flame for you, but we’re in a hospital. Fire and oxygen don’t mix.”

  My father rubbed his eyes. Not real, he wrote.

  “I don’t want it to be real either, but it is. It’s time you knew. As my only family, I’m afraid this attack won’t be the last.”

  Dad leaned back into his pillow and stared at the ceiling.

  “You’re tired. This is too much. But I need to know. What did the vampire who bit you look like?”

  His eyes flipped open, and he lifted the marker. Tribal tattoo.

  I nodded. Good. Gary was right. Kace did this, and Kace was already dead.

  My father scribbled on the board again. Cleopatra.

  A chill traveled the course of my spine. “Cleopatra? Do you mean … Was there a woman with Kace who looked like Cleopatra?”

  Hired me.

  “She hired you to show her houses, and then Kace attacked you?”

  He nodded.

  Tabetha. I ground my teeth. Even I could put two and two together. Tabetha learned who my father was from Logan and used Kace to try to kill him, to distract me from the vampire challenge. No doubt Gary was a surprise to her. She wouldn’t expect I’d have a vampire supporter on the inside. And all to pressure me to turn over my territory.

  I placed a hand on my father’s shoulder. “Rest now. You’re safe here. I won’t let anything like this happen to you again.”

  He closed his eyes, obviously overwhelmed with our conversation. He’d expected to blow me away with his revelation of the existence of vampires. Instead, his message backfired. His daughter was a witch.

  I kissed him on the forehead. “Try not to think on it. There will be plenty of time to talk about this when you’re better.”

  He blinked at me, his eyes glazing. I grabbed the remote. “How about some TV? No sense being in the hospital if you can’t rot your brain.” I had a wedding to plan and a friend to protect from a murderous witch, but family first. I put my feet up and flipped to a rerun of Modern Family.

  The hint of a smile crossed his lips.

  CHAPTER 22

  The Book of Light

  “Show me how to protect Logan from Tabetha.” Hand hovering over The Book of Light, I commanded my grimoire to give me the answer.

  The book lit up from the spine, the pages flipping in an almost imperceptible wind. The tome was huge. Hundreds of pages. It took more than a minute to flip through every page and when it was through the entire book, it simply flipped them all in the opposite direction. Usually this process would end with the book opening to the page that would help answer my question. This time the book closed itself.

  I stared at it for a moment in confusion. Was there something wrong with the book? Or something wrong with me? I tried again. Thrusting my hand over the cover I stated in a firm, commanding voice, “Show me how to protect Logan from Tabetha.”

  Again the light, the flipping, and the concluding slam of the cover. “Ugh, this is so frustrating,” I yelled.

  Poe flew into the attic through his pet door. “What seems to be the problem, Spamwitch?”

  “Spamwitch? Really? That’s the name you come up with today of all days? Spam is a processed luncheon meat. Do I look like a processed, canned magical entity to you?” I pointed at myself defensively.

  “Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the grimoire,” he said, arching his feathery brows. “Sorry, Grateful, is there something I can assist you with today? You appear frustrated.”

  His forced formality almost pulled me out of my foul mood. Almost.

  “I’ve asked The Book of Light a question, twice, and it just keeps closing itself.”

  “Usually that means it doesn’t have an answer. Try changing the way you phrase the question.”

  I thrust my hand over the book again. “Show me how to hide Logan from Tabetha.”

  Light. Flipping pages. Slamming cover. No answers.

  “That’s your problem,” Poe said. “You’re asking the wrong questions. Tabetha is an ancient and powerful witch. There isn’t any spell or enchantment you can put on Logan that she can’t muscle through with her own spell or enchantment. The book doesn’t have an answer for you.”

  “Then how do I protect Logan?”

  Poe contemplated the window for a moment. “Maybe the answer lies not in protecting Logan but in preserving him?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Show me how to save Logan from death,” I asked the book.

  This time my grimoire fell open to a page near the end. I groaned and rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms.

  “What is it?” Poe asked, fluttering to my side.

  “The caretaker spell. It wants me to make him immortal.”

  “Oi.”

  “No shit. Not gonna happen.” I tucked my hair behind my ears and tried to think. Pacing the attic, I rubbed my hands together. Every bad guy had an Achilles heel. What was Tabetha’s? “Maybe the answer is not in making Logan stronger, but keeping Tabetha away.”

  Poe bobbed his head. “Sounds promising.”

  I approached the book again and extended my hand. “Show me Tabetha’s vulnerability.”

  Light poured from the pages, the flipping faster than before. The book landed on a page decorated with a scarab beetle. I cleared my throat and read the page to Poe.

  “Scarabaeus sacer, also known as the dung beetle, has been used for centuries as an amulet of immortality. Popularized by the witches of ancient Egypt, the amulet is said to foster eternal life. History. In ancient Egyptian culture, the god Khepri was believed to renew the sun every day before rolling it into the sky. Scarabs roll dung into balls to store as food or as an incubator for their eggs. Thus, it was commonly believed that scarabs held magical properties related to renewal. During the centuries, Hecates have used scarabs to amplify spells and enchantments meant to draw on power external to themselves. The best specimens are sealed inside precious metal or amber.”

  “She’s channeling power using the scarab.” Poe said, fluffing his feathers.

  “So, it’s not just jewelry. She always wears it because it’s keeping her strong. Hecate told me Tabetha’s power was not her own.”

  “It won’t be enough to destroy the scarab,” Poe said. “The amulet might strengthen the connection, but if you want to stop her, you’d need to find the source of power and eliminate it.”

  I shook my head. “A source she likely protects at all costs. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Maybe there’s another way.”

  I turned back to the book and tried again.

  CHAPTER 23

  In Like a Lion

  “This tastes like ass.” My dad held up the glass of green healing tonic I’d poured for him.

  I laughed. “Nice language. You talk that way in front of your daughter?”

  “Sorry. This tastes like butt.” He grinned. Despite the deep scar at his throat, my father was as handsome as ever, with straight teeth and a full head of dark hair, peppered with gray. I was sure he’d be back to his job as a real estate agent in no time.

  “I can’t argue. My friend Logan said the same thing when I gave it to him.” I snatched the next invitation off the stack on Dad’s dining room table and began to address it. He forced himself to take another gulp of the green juice. Sadly, Logan wouldn’t agree with me on the
“friend” label. Technically, we weren’t even on speaking terms. But Dad didn’t need to know that.

  He swallowed, face contorting. “Butt or not, it’s working. My voice is better, and I’m getting around okay. Doctors say it’s a miracle how fast I’ve recovered.”

  “Right. A miracle.”

  “Or magic,” Dad murmured.

  I stopped writing and nodded.

  “When I was in the hospital, before you brought me home, you told me you were a witch.”

  “I did.” A week had passed since my confession, but this was the first time he’d mentioned it.

  “This health tonic … it’s a potion, isn’t it? It’s magic.”

  “Yes.”

  He pressed his lips together and stared at the remainder of the drink, swirling it in his glass. “Thank you,” he said finally. “I am going to walk you down the aisle, and this is going to make it happen.”

  I smiled.

  “So, about Rick. Is he a witch too?”

  I cleared my throat. “Sort of. He’s a caretaker. A caretaker is a mystical being that takes care of his witch. Rick takes care of me.”

  Dad stared at me for a moment. “Then he’s a good match for you.”

  I snorted. “Yes. Possibly the only match for me.”

  “I’d thought Seraphina was my match,” Dad murmured. “But now she’s gone.”

  The crushing weight of guilt pressed into my chest. I’d murdered Seraphina in self-defense. My dad had never quite gotten over it. Maybe it was time I helped him. “There’s something you should know about Seraphina,” I said.

  Dad sighed and closed his eyes. “I was afraid you might say that. Was she a vampire?”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “No, a shifter.”

  He raised his head and furrowed his brow. “Like a werewolf?”

  “No. A fork-tailed cat.”

  Dad’s eyebrows shot up. “Just say it, Grateful. There’s something more about her, isn’t there?”

  “Seraphina wanted me dead, Dad. I think she was dating you to get to me.”

  I expected him to deny it, maybe to throw me out of his house in anger. But he didn’t. With tears in his eyes, he nodded.

  “I suspected she was something other near the end. I loved her. I really did. But her behavior got to be … suspicious. She pulled away from me. She never seemed to eat or sleep. I guess it was a good thing about the car accident. It could have been worse.”

  I glanced at my toes and remembered sinking my sword into her heart. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

  His face fell, and he sighed deeply. “Your mother was the last great love of my life. It was wishful thinking to hope for that again.”

  “Nonsense. You could meet someone else. Someone human.”

  He scoffed and drank the rest of the green juice.

  I finished addressing the last invitation and placed a stamp in the upper right corner. “Done.” I stacked the finished invites and stood from the table. Kissing him on the forehead, I asked, “Do you need anything before I go? You want me to heat something up for you for dinner?”

  “No,” he said too quickly.

  I scowled. I couldn’t cook, but the offer should be worth something. “Ha, ha, ha,” I said cynically. “You’re on your own then.” I shrugged on my new coat, a black wool trench trimmed in leather. I gathered the invitations into my arms, and we said our goodbyes.

  On the sidewalk in front of Dad’s brownstone, I glanced up and down the street, remembering there was a blue postbox around the corner. The sun had set, but his street was well lit by picturesque old-timey lampposts that cast elongated pools of yellow light across the sidewalk and adjoining street. I started left, gripping the lapels of my coat tightly around my neck to keep out the chill. When I turned the corner, I dumped the invitations into the blue box with relief, anxious to get home and spend some time with Rick before our night’s work.

  “I hope mine is in there.” Gary appeared beside me, grinning confidently.

  I’d startled slightly at his voice and smoothed my hair and coat as I recovered. I shook my head a little. “It’s during the day. Noon, actually.”

  “Right. Might be dangerous for you after dark,” he said.

  I took a good look at him. “You’re wearing a suit. I thought you hated suits.”

  He smoothed the charcoal gray wool over his chest. “Got to play the part. I’m the king now.”

  “Guess so.” I smiled. “And I trust you will be keeping your coven in line? Because if another vamp so much as touches my dad, I’m going to be using your head as a footstool.”

  “Ho! Jeez, Grateful. That was uncalled for.” He rubbed the base of his neck. “Of course I’m reining them in. Everyone in the coven knows there will be no mercy for anyone feeding on unwilling humans.”

  “Good. Nice to see you again.” Hands in pockets, I turned to walk back to my car.

  “Wait,” he called.

  I stopped and glanced over my shoulder at him.

  “Thanks for helping me. I wouldn’t have survived three minutes in that ring without your magic. I can promise you, if Bathory comes back seeking revenge, she’ll get no help from me.”

  With a deep breath, I told him what I’d learned. “Bathory is missing.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “Uh, yeah, she’s been on the lam since you beat her ass.”

  “No. I mean, really missing. I found Naill, and he said she’d been gone since just after the solstice. He’d been living in a hole in the mountains. He’d assumed I’d found her and sentenced her.”

  “Hmm. Maybe she had a run-in with a pack of weres?”

  “Possible.” I shrugged. “It might be wishful thinking, but I don’t believe Bathory will be a problem again. She never went far without Naill. I don’t think she’d abandon him on purpose. If she’s not dead, she’s permanently missing.”

  “Like Julius,” Gary murmured. The corners of his mouth dipped. He took a step forward and tentatively rested a hand on my shoulder. I allowed it. “Tell me the truth. Do you think I’m in danger, Grateful?”

  “Why would you be in danger?”

  “First Bathory goes missing, then Julius. Someone has it out for powerful vampires. Normally, I’d assume that was you. But it isn’t.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You think the two are related?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “No. Bathory was living in the woods when she went missing. Julius was living at the Thames. The disappearances were weeks apart. There’s no reason to believe the two were related.”

  Gary folded his arms across his chest, unease tightening his features and then disappearing behind a mask of ice. “What do you know about the Witch of Salem?”

  “What about her?” I asked defensively.

  “What does she want with the coven? She must have sought out Kace. No vampire would be stupid enough to propose such a thing to a witch.”

  Did I trust Gary enough to tell him the truth? The answer was no. Still, I’d let him into my home. I’d given him power. Perhaps he’d earned my trust. More importantly, when it came to Tabetha, it might be in my best interest to have another ally.

  “Tabetha wants my territory.” I kept the reason why to myself. “I’m sure she approached Kace because it would serve her purposes to control your coven.”

  He snorted. “I guess vampires don’t have a monopoly on power plays.”

  “No.” I tucked my hair behind my ear and met Gary’s eyes. “I don’t think I need to tell you that it would not be in you or your coven’s best interest if Tabetha succeeded.”

  “Understood.”

  “I have a favor to ask.”

  Gary stilled, all hint of humor fading from his demeanor. “Go ahead.”

  “Tabetha has threatened to kill Logan Valentine if I don’t hand over my territory by the equinox. I need you to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “How do you propose I do that?”

  I glanced down at the toes of my boot
s. What I was about to ask Gary to do went against everything I believed in regarding personal freedom and human rights. But desperate times called for desperate measures. I’d tried to do things the proper way and failed.

  “The day before my wedding, I want you to hunt down Logan and abduct him. Take him somewhere safe.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Confessions

  “Try this one,” I said, slipping a bite of cake into Rick’s mouth. We were picking out our wedding cake, a task I’d left to the very last minute.

  “I like it the same as the other two options,” he said. Technically, Rick didn’t have to eat. He could sustain himself on sex and blood. He even gained power from ingesting supernaturals and sending them to hell. Mostly, he ate for my benefit. The wedding cake tasting was definitely for my benefit.

  “We’ll take the devil’s food with the chocolate glaze,” I told the baker’s assistant.

  She raised her eyebrows. “I thought you said this was for a wedding. Our chocolate glaze only comes in brown. We can do a white chocolate frosting though, if you’d like.”

  “I want the brown. Dark chocolate glaze. The florist will add flowers on the tiers.”

  The girl opened and closed her mouth, then gave a little giggle. “Okay. We will have it ready for you on the twentieth.”

  “Deliver it to the Gilded Rooster in Red Grove.”

  She bobbed her head and disappeared into the back.

  “She’s back there laughing with the baker about our dark wedding cake,” I said, pushing the door open. “If she only knew how dark the bride could be. Mwahahaha.”

  “You are not evil, mi cielo.”

  “Of course not. Simply a sorceress of the dead and guardian of a hellmouth. I’m sure every wedding cake maker knows the difference. We should go back and have a groom’s cake made in the shape of a ring of skulls.”

  He grinned. “Cherry filling?”

  “What else? And maybe we could add a door to the top tier with a couple of torches and a snake.”

  Rick stopped abruptly on the square of sidewalk, right outside the Carlton City drugstore. His body stiffened and his normally Mediterranean complexion paled. “Why would you request such a thing?”