Vengeance

by Carrie Whitethorne

  Raising her head, she grinned at me, her aged, blackened teeth visible, and answered, “It is all that remains of her. It will allow her to guide you to the answers you desperately seek. It holds part of her from before her family played their part. The real Anis.”

  I gaped at her. “She bound it?” I squeaked before clearing my throat.

  “From her own flesh,” the old woman confirmed, “and she will lead you to your father.”

  The tea had done its work, I realized, as I attempted to get to my feet. I felt sluggish, as though deeply relaxed.

  “Slow down,” she instructed, holding up a hand. “Finish your tea and let me bring your book. I can send you home, where you must first rest, before you read through the instructions your mother left. Only then will you be ready to conclude this chapter of your journey.”

  “I don’t have time—”

  “There is always time, Sorrel,” she admonished, rising to her feet gracefully despite her age. “Time is the one thing we have in abundance. Used wisely, we can bend it to our advantage.”

  Despite her instructions, I shored myself up and followed her into the shop just as the front door scraped open.

  Greeting her new visitors in what I assumed to be Chinese, she retrieved the odd little book from the display and placed it on the counter. “Keep it safe, Sorrel. It is irreplaceable,” she warned, pushing it forward.

  I moved as quickly as my fatigued legs would allow, grabbing the book and sliding it into my satchel.

  Activity behind me pulled my attention back to the door, where a middle-aged couple guided a frail young woman through the shop toward the back room I’d just vacated. She was short, maybe in her mid-twenties, with limp black hair. She was painfully thin with sunken dark eyes and an audible wheeze when she breathed. Whatever was wrong with her was serious.

  “Sorrel,” the old woman snapped.

  I turned back to her, my brows knitting together.

  “We will meet again when the time is right. You are not alone.”

  With that she turned and followed the three newcomers into the back.

  Alone in the odd little shop, I looked down at the petite pouches that I now knew contained tiny dried fetuses. To think that was almost what had become of me…

  But I didn’t want to dwell on what might have been. That didn’t keep me moving forward.

  I turned for the door to see it fade away in front of my eyes. It was replaced by a familiar image—my living room. My couch. My coffee table.

  Relieved, I groggily walked directly into the magical portal and was transported home.

  My feet had barely touched the worn floor when the portal evaporated around me, leaving me alone in the safety of my house.

  Immediately, I pulled the book from my satchel, unfastened the clasp, and turned to the first page. For a moment, the page was blank, and I frowned. The daft old boot had given me a dud.

  I’d barely finished the thought when a message formed.

  A name few will speak. Only the oldest, those closest to death, would dare.

  Too tired to ponder its meaning, I dropped my satchel on the sofa and carried the book to my room.

  The old woman was right, I needed sleep. I’d figure the rest out tomorrow.

  Chapter 14

  Sorrel

  The old woman’s tea did the trick. After a full night’s sleep, I saw to the hens, ate a hearty breakfast of porridge and dried fruit, then curled up on the sofa with a mug of tea to read through my mother’s book.

  It was the only physical part of her I had left, and as macabre as holding it in my hands was, it brought me some comfort. But I didn’t spend too long indulging my woes. Everything I’d done leading up to this point was to gain answers. I wouldn’t get them if I sat here feeling sorry for myself. I was close, all I needed was the exact wording she used and a name.

  The first few pages outlined her theories, and I admit I was pleasantly surprised. I had always known she was far more intelligent than the average witch, but her understanding of the art of summoning was beyond anything I’d had the opportunity to witness. And I’d seen a lot on my travels, given the nature of my research. The people I’d met, the things I’d seen, none of that compared to the talent she had before her family had betrayed her.

  Jaw clenched, I forced myself to read on but couldn’t concentrate. The more I thought of what her family did to her, the angrier I became.

  A sharp rap on my front door interrupted my slow spiral into rage, alerting the demon within me and setting Alva on the offensive.

  Visitors were a rarity. It wasn’t as though I had a wide social circle or was in the habit of sharing my location with people I met. Oddly, none of my protective charms had triggered.

  I placed the grimoire on the coffee table and walked barefoot to the door, peering out the little window.

  He was standing on the small step of the porch with his hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched around his ears. He would have been entirely unremarkable and easily dismissed if he hadn’t been semi-shifted. Displaying an aspect that would have him beaten to death by humans or arrested by the Assembly was either brave or stupid. I couldn’t decide which on the spot. For me, it delivered a clear message. He meant no harm.

  “Is there something I can do for you, shifter?” I asked in greeting, as I opened the front door.

  His ears twitched then flattened, his amber eyes widening in alarm as I stepped out onto the porch. I didn’t think I looked too threatening, barefoot on the cold wooden boards with no weapon in hand, but he clearly knew more about me than the average person.

  Keen eyes scanned me, his ears perked back up, and he withdrew his hands from his pockets as he relaxed slightly. I patiently waited as he cleared his throat. “A mutual friend told me about you, said you were the next big thing. I came to see for myself.”

  Unable to mask my smirk, I replied, “I don’t have any friends.”

  “I won’t repeat that to Jefferson,” the shifter stated pointedly. “He speaks real highly of you, and I’d hate to hurt his feelings.”

  I canted my head and smiled. “He mentioned his sympathies with your people, but I didn’t expect him to send anyone to me. When did you last see him?”

  The shifter shook his head. “I didn’t. I… it’s insane…” He trailed off, brushing his right hand over his furry head. “He came to me in a dream. Not Jefferson, someone else. It was a little more than a week ago. Gave me detailed directions, said the house would be hidden and how to tell where it was. It’s taken me eight days to get here unnoticed.”

  My heart beat a little faster and my succubus side purred. Sorin. The scheming, deceitful shit had been working hard. I glanced behind him before stepping back toward the door and saying, “You better come inside.”

  Rather than wait for him to follow, I went straight to the stove to set the kettle to boil. He would either accept my invitation or not.

  He was only a few seconds behind me, closing the door and turning the key in the lock before joining me in the kitchen. I looked back and smiled as he pulled out a chair. His ears were flattened again, his eyes darting around the room as he scanned for threats.

  I didn’t press him. Whatever Sorin had told him had been enough for him to risk his life by showing himself in his semi-true form to a stranger. The least I could do to repay that trust was let him relax.

  “He said you were the one to get us out of this.”

  “That’s kind of him,” I murmured, remembering the last time Sorin and I had spoken. We’d been in this very room, drinking tea. He’d kissed me. “So, what else did he tell you?” I pressed, stopping my train of thought right there. This was not the time to examine what might or might not have been going on there. Whatever Sorin knew, whatever was coming, it involved me, and I had to get myself to where he needed me if I had a chance in hell of helping.

  “It’s more what I told him,” he replied, clasping his large furry hands on the table. “He said I should make you awa
re of what I know.”

  I turned back to the teapot and spooned in some leaves before filling it with boiling water. “I thought he was the one who knew everything?”

  “I don’t know about that,” he answered sheepishly with a small laugh, “but I know things. My grandpa worked for the Assembly.”

  Now that was an interesting admission. A shifter working for the Assembly.

  With a wave of my hand the pot vanished, its arrival on the kitchen table marked by the scraping of my new friend’s chair legs as he sprang back. I tried not to laugh as I picked up two mugs from the drainer and joined him. “Sorry, habit,” I admitted.

  He shuffled his chair back in and offered a nervous smile as I poured the tea and questioned, “So, what did your grandpa do?”

  “Informer,” he croaked, before clearing his throat. “It wasn’t easy back then. I mean, it isn’t now and hasn’t been since the Assembly shared their intelligence with the humans. Grandpa was given a choice, work as a go between for the two sides, passing information back and forth, or be taken in. He used to visit Jefferson’s barbershop, he’d hear things. Pass them on or not. He saved as many as he condemned, but it was life or death for him and my ma, so…”

  Shit.

  “I understand,” I assured him, as he took a sip of tea. “We do what we have to for our families. My mum was a victim of the Assembly and their bullshit. I think it’s time for a change. Someone needs to step up and stop them.”

  He looked up from his cup. “You’re going to stop them?”

  Cup raised to my lips, I paused and met his intense gaze. “It seems Jefferson and Sorin, your visitor, think so. But to do that I need information. What’s going on with the dragons?”

  “They broke their agreement.”

  That was a turn-up for the books. “With who?”

  “The fae.”

  I couldn’t decide if they were lucky to still have their lives, or unlucky that they weren’t spared the pain and suffering they’ll be subjected to. “What agreement?”

  “Power for purity. But they mixed. There are half-breeds, men and women of unnatural ability, and the fae withdrew the magical gifts bestowed on the race. Their immortality is not innate. Longevity, yes, a dragon will live for a millennium if left in peace, but the enhancements bestowed upon them by the fae gave them free rein here among mortals. They were their visible agents above ground. Keeping the humans in check. Reporting back the whisperings they heard among the other gifted.”

  “Which of the races accepted advancements?”

  “The dragons, merfolk, and many of the lesser fae. Certain were bloodlines were rumored to have accepted and gone into hiding so as not to be recognized. I can’t say for certain which other races, but I know the dragons broke their agreement and have paid the price. More will be sure to follow.”

  I’d heard enough, and I didn’t have time for pleasantries. “Not if I can help it,” I stated firmly, reaching for his hand across the table. “Thank you for coming to me, for trusting Sorin. I’m sorry, but I have somewhere to be. Is there somewhere you need to go? Somewhere safe I can send you?”

  He tilted his head in confusion. “Umm, I wouldn’t mind a ride back to Jackson.”

  I patted his hand and got to my feet. “Finish your tea. I need to pack a couple of things then we can go. I’ll have you home in no time.”

  He didn’t look as relieved as I expected, so I amended, “Or I can drop you at the nearest train station?”

  “I don’t want to walk through those woods again,” he disclosed, shaking his head vigorously. “I shifted and ran most of the way here when I realized what else lived in there.”

  I glanced at the window. “He’s not as dangerous as you’d think,” I said quietly. “In fact, he’s half the reason I don’t usually get visitors.”

  I left him there and gathered up my things. If the weres were involved, then so were the vamps. That meant a quick trip to London first.

  Chapter 15

  Sorrel

  Billionaires Row in Hampton was once lined with beautiful mansions.

  The grandeur of the place on my last visit, over a decade ago, had impressed me. The extravagance, the generosity of my host, and the acceptance I was lavished with for the week was beyond anything I’d experienced before or since. But I soon discovered it wasn’t for me. There were some fantasies that just didn’t live out the way you expected them to.

  The sun was beginning to set as I strode down the long gravel driveway. It was a shame to see the mansions’ sprawling gardens so overgrown and in tatters, but that helped maintain the facade. It was holding very well.

  As I reached for the tarnished knocker on the once grand door, I fixed a smile on my face and slammed it three times. Each knock reverberated through the apparently derelict building, and I fought the urge to look around to see if the sound had alerted my presence to anyone nearby.

  It couldn’t have, the area was all but deserted by its billionaire property owners. It was why the family insisted on keeping up residence here.

  The door swung silently open, and a devastatingly handsome man stepped into view. Leaning against the doorframe, he took his sweet time running his eyes over me.

  I met his gaze and winked.

  “Sorrel,” he drawled, eyeing me while tracing his bottom lip with his tongue. “A pleasant surprise.”

  I didn’t have time for games. “Dario, long time. May I?”

  Not waiting for an invitation, I stepped over the threshold and ducked under his arm.

  As expected, he caught me by my elbow, halting my progress as the door closed with a soft click that betrayed the worn visage of the home.

  “Too long,” he agreed, guiding me back against the door. “You never did explain why you ran out on me.”

  This was what had brought me here all those years before. I was younger. More likely to follow the allure of a perfect specimen like him. Thirsty.

  And all that was without waking Alva. A vampire lover was just up her street. Strong enough to withstand her, passionate enough to unravel me. I’d been here days before I’d come to my senses.

  With my back pressed firmly against the door, he crowded my space, reached for my hair, raised it to his nose, and inhaled before leaning close to my ear and murmuring, “You’re like a fine wine. You really must let me sample you. For old times’ sake if nothing more.”

  I rolled my eyes right as my demon self rolled her hips.

  Fuck. No. I had too much to do to be tumbling around in the sack with a vampire. And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I couldn’t get Sorin out of my damn head.

  “There doesn’t have to be a reason, Dario,” I answered lightly, dancing away from him and toward the next set of doors. “I’m here to see your father. Where is he?”

  The interior of the house was nothing like the exterior. It was exactly as I remembered. Classic Italian leather sofas and highly polished cabinets displaying antiques of all types lined the hallway that opened up into a circular reception hall. Directly in front was the overly decorated ornate staircase, with a set of highly polished double doors on each side. On the right, the doors were closed, which I knew led to the extravagant living areas. On the left, they were open, leading to Enzo’s office.

  If Dario was irritated by my rejection, it was held firmly in check as he followed me into the hall. Alva stirred and wanted to give him a pat on the head while praising him for being a good boy.

  I kept my eyes fixed on the open doors ahead. No distractions. No unnecessary contact.

  His footsteps sped up and he overtook me, making a point of stopping before me and blocking my way.

  He studied my face for a moment, I assumed taking note of the changes a decade had inflicted on my mortal form, before offering, “Follow me.”

  My teeth sunk into my tongue to stop the snarky remark I knew that would come out and, instead, I gave him a single nod and allowed him to lead me down, passing closed door after closed door before we reac
hed the very last room.

  I wasn’t surprised to be greeted the moment my foot crossed the threshold. “Miss Bishop. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  It occurred to me that I’d reached a certain age. You know, where the guy was hot but so was his dad? Enzo was that dad, but certainly not my type. There was a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and he’d stepped straight over. Dario, his middle son with his first wife, was still humble to an extent. Or had been ten years ago.

  Looks aside, I wasn’t there to placate them.

  Skirt ruffling as I shifted, I crossed my arms. “You know why I’m here, Enzo.”

  He raised his hands as though I’d caught him out. “There was never any fooling you, dear. The way things were explained to us, we did not expect you for at least another two days. What changed to bring you here so quickly?”

  There was an edge to his tone that I didn’t like.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Expecting me?”

  “You believe yourself to be the only one opposed to fae rule?” There was amusement in his silky tone.

  “You’re saying you don’t know about the rogue weres and their bargain with the Assembly?” I countered.

  Unruffled, the senior vamp sat back in his comfortable Chesterfield wingback chair and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “I haven’t had the opportunity to say much in the last five minutes, Miss Bishop. But given your enthusiasm for questions and answers, I must ask, why not put this to their elected leader?”

  That old chestnut. Anytime anyone wanted to speak to a high-ranking vamp or were, they would always be conveniently out of the country. “Time is precious, Enzo, I can’t chase a dog around—”

  I was interrupted by the door slamming shut behind me. Not typical vamp behavior. They observed so many social niceties it almost made their wooing tedious.

  Almost.

  A glance over my shoulder at the newcomer almost threw me off my stride with Enzo, but I thankfully recovered my wits after just a couple of heartbeats.