Swear (My Blood Approves #5)

by Amanda Hocking

  “Peter?” I asked once I calmed myself down. “Why did you mention Peter?”

  “Because he’s a vagabond,” Olivia replied disinterestedly, as if she hadn’t been the one that brought him up. “He’s always travelling, doing his own thing, and I know he was obsessed with you for a while, so I thought he might’ve dropped your name in conversation.”

  “So what happened after you referred to Peter?” I pressed.

  “She totally shut down and freaked out. She couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek, trying to consider only the most innocent of possibilities. “Well, Peter can be a jerk sometimes. That’s not a totally unheard of reaction from meeting him, I’m sure.”

  “You’re right about that,” she agreed with weary laugh. “There was just something… off about her response. I don’t know how to describe it exactly.”

  “Why did you call to tell me about this?” I asked her finally. “I mean, it’s interesting, but it’s not the kind of thing that usually ranks important enough to merit a phone call from you.”

  “I know, I know.” She paused, letting the silence hang between us as she articulated her thoughts. “When you’re a hunter, you rely a lot on your intuition. You know how that goes now, don’t you?”

  I closed my eyes, as if that could somehow shield me from the weight of her words. When you’re hunting vampires, you must learn to trust your gut and react quickly. You have to sense trouble before it senses you, because by then, it’s already too late.

  “I do,” I told her.

  “She just had this look about her,” Olivia said at length. “When I mentioned Peter’s name, there was this panic in her eyes, like a caged animal. And in my experience, wild animals like that tend to be dangerous when they break out of their cage.”

  “Thank you, but I really don’t think I know a Cate Brennan,” I said.

  “She may still be in the area, if you wanted to come out. You’re only a few hours’ drive from Prague,” she offered.

  “I think it’s longer than a few hours,” I corrected her. I’d never been to Prague, but Milo had talked about going there last winter, and I recalled him saying it was eight or nine hours, at least. Longer than that, if we took a train.

  “I’m just passing along information,” Olivia said. “I’ve given it to you, and now you can do with it as you wish. If you want to come out here and investigate and make sure this girl isn’t up to any trouble, then by all means, come on out. If you just want to forget I ever called, that’s your prerogative too.”

  I laughed despite my unease. “Thank you, Olivia.”

  “I’m always looking out for you, kid,” she said before offering a quick goodbye.

  I hung up the phone and stood up, thinking that standing might make me feel better somehow. There was a good chance that this was no big deal at all, that Olivia was just looking for an excuse for me to come visit her since we hadn’t seen or talked to each other much these past few years.

  But it wasn’t like Olivia to waste my time, and it also wasn’t like her to be paranoid or put herself out there for things that didn’t matter. She’d gotten lazy in her retirement, and she liked to keep it that way.

  A small knock on my open bedroom pulled me from my thoughts, and I turned to see Ezra standing in the doorway. “Is everything okay?” he asked quietly.

  I forced a smile. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

  His mahogany eyes appeared unconvinced. “You just left to take a call, and now you look spooked.”

  “It was just Olivia,” I said, since telling Ezra the truth usually made things easier. He always had an answer or sage advice to pass on. “She had a weird interaction with someone that knows Peter. Maybe you’ve heard of? Cate Brennan.”

  “Cate Brennan? No, I don’t…” He trailed off and a look of shocked recognition overtook his handsome features. “Oh my god. Catherine.”

  “Catherine?” I echoed.

  “Yes, she…” Ezra looked uncharacteristically flustered as he struggled to find the words to identify her. “You remember hearing of Peter’s wife, Elise?” I nodded. “Catherine was Elise’s best friend.”

  I HAD RECALLED HEARING ABOUT Peter’s first love, Elise. Her name had been a source of great pain initially, back when I had felt bonded to Peter but he kept pushing me away because of how much it had hurt him to lose Elise.

  Nobody spoke of her much, partially out of respect for Peter and partially because no one outside of Ezra had met her. If I understood correctly, Elise had died long before either Mae or Jack had even been born.

  But now I realized how little I knew about her. I hadn’t even known that she and Peter had been married until Ezra referred to her as Peter’s wife, although that made sense. Everyone just usually called her Peter’s love or intended or soulmate.

  “What did Olivia have to say about her?” Ezra asked.

  I told Ezra everything Olivia had said, which hadn’t been that much, and Ezra still looked dazed when he sat down on the bed beside me.

  “I don’t know if Peter has seen Catherine since the last time I did,” he explained, exhaling deeply. “But the last I saw her was… it must’ve been 150 years ago. Maybe more?”

  “That’s quite a while ago.”

  Ezra stared off, remembering. “It was after Elise died. We went back to see where she was buried, since we hadn’t been with her.”

  “Where were you and Peter?”

  “We were in America, trying to start a new life, but Elise stayed behind in Ireland at first. She’d never left her home. She hadn’t wanted to, but soon the locals would start to talk that she wasn’t aging. So, we’d all made these plans, and once things were set up in America, Elise was to come join us.

  “But then, Catherine had sent word to Peter, informing him that Elise had been killed.” Ezra paused. “Really, I think Peter already knew. He’d been sick for a month before the letter came, throwing up and waking up in cold sweats. Physically, it was terrible. That was the blood bond breaking.”

  “He felt that? Even with an ocean between them?” I asked in awe.

  “The bond is something that extends far beyond space and time.” Ezra sounded both mystical and utterly forlorn as he stared off. “Peter dug her up.”

  “What?” I asked, confused.

  He licked his lips. “When we got to Ireland. He couldn’t truly believe Elise was dead. Not until he saw her. So, he dug her up, and she hadn’t decayed at all. She was just as lovely as the day she died.”

  “How did Catherine react?” I asked.

  “She was nearly as devastated as Peter, I’d say. But she could be hard to get a read on sometimes,” Ezra elaborated. “Peter had tried setting Catherine and I up, but she wasn’t exactly my type.”

  “What type was she?” I asked.

  “Have you been to a human bar when there were loud girls, usually celebrating some rite of passage, and they slam down shots of tequila and shout woo every time they do?” he asked. “Catherine was that kind of girl.”

  I laughed at the specificity of his example. “So you didn’t care for her?”

  “No, I liked her fine. She just wasn’t the type of girl I was interested in romantically.”

  “Did she have a falling out with Peter or anything?” I pressed. “Is there any reason I should be worried about her?”

  “I don’t know,” Ezra admitted. “As far as I know, she and Peter were on good terms the last time they spoke. But I can’t think of any reason for her to react the way that Olivia described. That leads me to believe that there is something more going on.”

  I hesitated before asking, “Should I contact Peter?”

  He exhaled deeply. “No,” he said finally. “Peter tends to act emotionally and dramatically, especially when it comes to his love, and I don’t want him doing something reckless.”

  “That is an understatement,” I muttered.

  Ezra laughed lightly before turning his gaze on me. “Ar
e you going to look for her?”

  “Do you think I should?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied honestly before adding, “But Olivia did call you for a reason.”

  “I know.”

  His dark eyes rested heavily on me. “I’ve known Olivia for a very long time, and I’ve come to trust her judgment.”

  “I was afraid of that.”

  Just at that exact moment, Jack appeared in our bedroom door. “Afraid of what?”

  “I think I have to go to Prague,” I said, since beating around the bush wouldn’t do any good.

  Bobby poked his head in the door, his eyes bouncing between Jack, Ezra, and me. “Why are you guys all hanging out here? Is there some kind of party?”

  “Alice is going to Prague,” Jack replied.

  Bobby took that as an invitation and walked into the room. “Oh, is it for a mission?”

  “Kind of,” I said, then went on to explain everything I’d learned from Olivia, with Ezra adding in his opinion when it applied.

  “That sounds like a mission to me,” Bobby said when I’d finished. “I should come with.”

  I shook my head. “You’re going on your honeymoon.”

  “Not until Wednesday,” he persisted. “And we’re just going to Paris. I can fly out from Prague and meet Milo there if I need to.”

  “That doesn’t sound very romantic,” I pointed out, but he just waved me off.

  “I’ll go talk it over with him,” he said as he turned and jogged out to the living room to get the go ahead from his husband.

  That left Jack, standing in front of me with his arms folded over his chest. “Do you really think you need to do this?”

  Ezra stood up. “I’ll leave you two to sort this out.” When he left the bedroom, he closed the door behind him.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Olivia thinks I do. Ezra seems to think so, too. So, I guess I should.”

  “Well, if everyone thinks you should, then who am I to stand in the way?” Jack asked, and he didn’t sound upset exactly, but he clearly wasn’t happy about it either.

  “What’s bothering you about this?” I asked him bluntly.

  “I just thought we were done with these wild goose chases after Peter. He has his own life now, doing whatever he wants, and we have ours here.” He gestured to the room to make his point.

  I understood his reservations. Even though he and Peter had gotten to a good place and genuinely seemed to enjoy spending time together again, that didn’t mean that Jack wanted me getting hurt over Peter. Well, he never wanted me getting hurting at all, but going on a potentially dangerous mission because of Peter had to stir up a lot of bad memories for him.

  “I’m not going after Peter,” I reasoned. “Peter’s not even going to be there, and he doesn’t know what I’m doing. This is different. This is more like a job. I just need to make sure everything is okay and everyone is safe.”

  “Okay,” Jack relented. “Just be careful.”

  “I always am,” I said as I stood up.

  Jack reached for me, pulling me into his arms. “I wish I believed that.”

  “You should.” I kissed him and lingered in his arms. “Did you talk to Ezra about that thing yesterday with the psychic?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I thought last night you said you were going to.”

  He leaned his head back, but kept his arms around me. “I know. The timing doesn’t feel right. We’re all just hanging out, and I don’t want to bum everyone out. And it’s probably nothing. Like I said yesterday, she probably just doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

  “Ezra’s here for another day. Please talk to him while I’m gone?” I asked.

  “Fine. I will.” He smiled down at me. “For you.”

  I kissed him again, deeper this time. “Thank you.”

  “Good news!” Bobby announced as he threw open the bedroom door without knocking. “Milo says its fine if I go to Prague!”

  “Great!” Jack pulled away from me, grinning broadly. “And while you two are there, doing your vampire investigations or whatever, make sure you find time to stop at any one of their fancy shops to get me something nice. It’s only four more shopping days until my birthday.”

  “I won’t even be here for your birthday,” Bobby reminded him, not for the first time. Jack had been teasing them about getting married so close to his birthday ever since they’d picked the date.

  “So that means I should get double presents from you,” Jack decided. “Some from Prague, some from Paris. Maybe you could take a long drive around Europe and pick me up something from every country.”

  BOBBY HAD LEANED THE SEAT back, resting his feet on the dashboard of my Mercedes SLS AMG, as I sped the silver coupe down the empty stretch of highway through the German countryside. The moonlight splashed across the forests and fields that surrounded us, and Bobby stared out the window, watching the night fly by.

  “You can sleep,” I suggested since we were reaching the half-way point of our GPS predicted nine-hour journey to Prague.

  “I can never sleep at night,” Bobby reminded me wearily. “I can hardly ever sleep at all, really.”

  “That can’t be good for you.”

  He groused, “I know. Milo wants me to see a doctor, because he wants me to extend my life for as long as possible. But I just don’t know how me sleeping like a normal person would fit into your lifestyle.”

  “You’re really giving up a lot to be with Milo.”

  “It’s not much of a sacrifice when you really love somebody.” Bobby turned to look at me then. “But you know that.”

  We didn’t say much the rest of the drive, both of us preferring to listen to the playlist on his iPhone titled “Road Trip Mission” that he had specially curated for these kinds of things. It was an eclectic mix, bouncing from Chase & Status to Tove Lo, with an odd cover of Bruce Springsteen sandwiched in there.

  On the final leg of the journey, Bobby finally managed to doze, resting his head against the glass of the window and draping his Member’s Only jacket over himself like a blanket. But he awoke when I slowed down as I reached the end of the long driveway that my GPS assured me was the location, per the address Olivia had texted me.

  We were east of the city, away from all the traffic and houses and congestion, in rolling hillsides overtaken by large oak and beech trees, with thick trunks and winding branches. The sun had begun to rise over the horizon, lending an eerie pinkish-orange tint to the low-hanging fog.

  Bobby stretched in his seat and asked, “Are we there?”

  “Almost,” I said as I drove slowly down the winding gravel road.

  “You have reached your destination,” my GPS alerted me in a cheery voice, but I had yet to see anything other than trees, and I couldn’t imagine that Olivia would camp out in the forest.

  “Are you sure Olivia gave you the right address?” Bobby asked.

  “I’m pretty –” I started to answer, but I finally saw it as I neared the top of the hall, the dark spires poking up into the sky.

  I’d never seen a building loom, not really, not like this. The dark stone, all done in detailed baroque style, looked ominous against the gray clouds behind it, and the wrought iron blocking every window only added to that. It was like a gothic horror movie had come to life.

  “Holy shit.” Bobby gasped and leaned forward, peering up out the window at it. “It’s a castle!”

  “Olivia said it was a manor,” I corrected him half-heartedly as I parked in front of the broad stone steps that led up toward the vestibule.

  He shot me a look. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out.” I turned the car off and opened the door, so the gullwing door swung up, and I climbed out.

  “If this is the wrong place, they could shoot us, though,” he suggested as he scrambled out of the car behind me. “Or they could call Dr. Frankenstein on us and chase us out with pitchforks. This seems lik
e that kind of place.”

  “Frankenstein was at the receiving end of the pitchfork chase,” I pointed out as I went up the steps toward the house/manor/castle.

  Bobby grabbed our bags from the trunk, and then he raced up the stairs to meet me. I’d just reached the massive iron and wood front door, wondering if I should knock and if anyone would even hear me, when the door opened.

  A small older woman greeted us with a polite but cold smile. She had the sallow complexion of someone that didn’t see the sun often, and callouses and dry skin cracked her hands. Her graying hair was pulled back in a tight bun. The black dress uniform she wore was neatly pressed, but her ergonomic shoes were scuffed and scraped from use.

  “Dobré ráno paní,” she said.

  “Sorry, I don’t speak Czech.” I glanced over to Bobby for help, but he just shrugged emptily. Our careers required travelling, so we’d studied up on several different languages, but there were too many for us to be fluent in everything.

  “English?” she asked with a thick accent.

  “Yes, we speak English!” I replied brightly. “We are looking for Olivia Smith. She said she was staying here?”

  “Ano, yes, slečno Smithová.” The woman nodded, her thin smile still plastered across her face. “She is here. She told me guests would be arriving, but she is sleeping for the day. I shall take you to your rooms. You can rest before she awakes.”

  The woman opened the door wider, and she did a small bow us as we walked by her. The vestibule opened into a grand front hall, with marble tiles, an enormous chandelier, and a double-staircase curved along either wall.

  “There’s no way that this place is not haunted,” Bobby commented as he admired the paintings that hung on the dark walls.

  “Zavazadla?” the woman asked, pointing at Bobby. “Bags?”

  “Um, yeah, sure.” He handed over the bags, and then we proceeded to follow her up the long stairs, presumably toward our rooms.

  As we went upstairs, I noticed a reoccurring theme in the paintings that sent a cold chill down my spine. Based on the clothing and the style of paintings, I would say they were all from different time periods – a real exhibition of fashion through the centuries.