Marked Descendant

by L. D. Goffigan

  Instinctively, he pulled Naomi closer. His attempt to wed her for more protection had backfired. Genevieve seemed angrier about them being together than about Naomi working with the Alliance. He had no doubt that she would take pleasure in killing Naomi given another chance.

  I won’t let her, he thought fiercely. But how could he stop her? Genevieve was more powerful than any witch he’d encountered. Killing her wouldn’t be as simple as snapping her neck or draining her. He looked down at his sleeping mate. He feared it would ultimately fall on Naomi’s shoulders to kill her.

  His worries kept him awake all night; he didn’t realize it was morning until Casimir and Elias’s familiar scents hit his nostrils.

  He was up in an instant, stepping out of his and Naomi’s room, closing the door behind them. Elias and Casimir were approaching from the far end of the corridor; they halted at the sight of him.

  “You don’t look happy to see us,” Elias said.

  “I’m not happy about anything right now—other than the fact that Naomi and I survived that witch’s attack. Did you use a thrall on the front desk woman?” Alaric asked.

  “Yeah,” Elias said, looking annoyed. “Of course. If anyone comes looking for us, she’ll only remember me and Casimir as a married couple here for a weekend away from the kids,” he said, winking at Casimir.

  “You could have just made her forget us,” Casimir said, rolling his eyes at Elias. “We also booked all the rooms on this floor,” he added to Alaric. “Just in case.”

  “Good call,” Alaric said, relieved.

  Casimir unlocked the door to the room next to his and Naomi’s, and Alaric followed them inside.

  “It took a lot of sleuthing, but I was able to dig up a little more information about Genevieve’s background,” Casimir said, entering the room and setting down his bag. “She’s gone by several names—Domenica, Samantha, and Gabriella are just a few. She wasn’t as fortunate as Naomi’s mother; her adoptive parents were abusive humans who tried to exploit her power. She continually ran away from home, and she finally disappeared from the record when she was seventeen.”

  Seventeen. Genevieve appeared to be relatively young, late thirties at the most, but from what he knew of Naomi’s mother’s age, he guessed she was somewhere between fifty to fifty-five. That was a long time for her to have been wandering the world. What did she spend those years doing? Getting stronger? Recruiting followers?

  “Does she have any connection to the Order?” Alaric asked.

  “Not really. She never came up in any of our intel on known Order members,” Casimir said. “If she is working with them, they’ve done it off the radar.”

  Alaric told Elias and Casimir every detail of their encounter with Genevieve; from the discovery of the two dead humans, to the revelation that there was no Incantation Stone. She’d sent Naomi on a false trail.

  When he fell silent, Casimir went pale, while Elias’s shoulders slumped, and he closed his eyes.

  “Now you can see why I’m not in the greatest of moods,” Alaric said. He straightened when he scented his mate. He turned as Naomi entered the room, rubbing her eyes, still bleary eyed.

  Though Elias and Casimir looked shaken, they both got up to embrace her in greeting.

  “From your cheerful expressions I’m guessing you know all about our encounter with Genevieve,” Naomi said, expelling a sigh.

  “We need to find her as soon as possible,” Elias said.

  “That’s an understatement,” Casimir said. “The problem is—Genevieve is very good at evading detection. I don’t know where to start looking. I doubt she’s still in Seattle. She might not even be in the country.”

  “Why would she go through all the trouble of making it seem like there’s another Stone out there? Or that she’s Raphael’s former lover out for revenge?” Elias asked, shaking his head.

  “To throw us off the trail,” Alaric said. “Or . . . to buy time.”

  “That has to be the reason,” Naomi mused. “It must take time to create a powerful Destruction spell.”

  “The two humans she killed may have something to do with that,” Casimir said slowly. “Blood and sacrifice are very important in magic. Spilling the blood of a living creature—human, witch, vampire—can make any dark spell more powerful. More potent.”

  Dread slithered through Alaric at his words; everyone fell silent, looking chilled.

  “I’m going to look for other unsolved murders with similar MOs,” Casimir said, his brow furrowed with worry as he took his laptop out of his bag.

  Naomi left to head to their room to get showered and dressed while Elias left to grab breakfast for Casimir and Naomi.

  “Did you find out anything about Elisabetta?” Alaric asked, once they were alone. If Elisabetta was the traitor, perhaps she was helping Genevieve. If so, Elisabetta was key to finding her.

  “Nothing suspicious,” Casimir said, his eyes focused on his laptop. “She has been working closely with the other Alliance leaders. They seem to trust her.”

  Alaric frowned, his suspicion spiking. What was she up to?

  “If she is helping Genevieve,” Casimir said, reading his mind, “she’s hiding it well. I just don’t see any evidence of her being the traitor. From what I’ve seen . . . it seems like she genuinely wants to help.”

  This didn’t reassure Alaric, but he didn’t press the matter.

  “How is Fiona?” Alaric asked, deciding to drop the issue of Elisabetta. For now. “Is she safe?”

  “Yes,” Casimir said, bristling. “She’s in a safe house in Prague. We’re going to meet up when this is all over.”

  “Sorry,” Alaric muttered, “I didn’t mean to imply—“

  “I know,” Casimir said, his expression softening. “I now know how it feels to worry about the safety of someone you love.”

  The tension dissipated from Alaric’s body, and he relaxed. Fiona was safe, in good hands, and loved. Casimir returned his attention to his laptop, and Alaric left him alone.

  When Elias and Naomi returned, they sat down at the small round table in the center of the room for breakfast. He learned that Elias and Casimir had been lying low in their respective cities of San Francisco and Portland; no one had followed them and nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

  “You two had all the excitement,” Elias said drily.

  They’d just finished eating when Madalena’s scent drifted into the room; he and Elias turned to the door. Relief filled Alaric at her scent; he knew Madalena’s flight was arriving after the others, but he’d started to get worried.

  When he opened the door, her green eyes were wide with panic.

  “I tried to lose them—but I was followed here,” she blurted, stumbling into the room. “You all need to leave. Now.”

  Panic coursed through him; he already scented other witches approaching. Alaric sped to Naomi, moving protectively in front of her as one of the Alliance leaders, Isobel, entered the room. Elisabetta trailed her inside, and Alaric stiffened, fury careening through him. His instincts about her had been right.

  “Madalena,” Isobel said, her eyes narrowed, “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you weren’t telling our members to run away from us.”

  “What are you doing here?” Alaric growled to Elisabetta.

  “Carrying out my duties,” Elisabetta coolly replied, her hard gaze sliding to Naomi.

  “Isobel,” Madalena said, past tight lips, “this is not—“

  “A local witch, Camille Colier, was just found dead,” Isobel interrupted. “The last person to have contact with her was Naomi and Alaric, according to her mother Suzette.”

  Alaric froze. He turned, meeting Naomi’s eyes. He knew they were thinking the same thing: Genevieve. She had killed Camille.

  “Killing another witch is ground for imprisonment—and death—if found guilty,” Isobel continued, her eyes cold as they settled on Naomi. “We’re taking you into custody.”

  Chapter 18

  �
��You’re not taking my mate anywhere,” Alaric snarled, moving forward to again stand in front of Naomi. “I’ll come with you, not Naomi. I can answer whatever questions you—“

  “Camille was killed by a witch’s hand; a Killing spell. We need to question a witch,” Isobel said, her tone rigid. “If we find her answers satisfactory, we’ll release her.”

  “And if you don’t find her answers satisfactory?” he asked.

  “Then she’ll be sentenced to death.”

  Fueled by panic, he took a threatening step forward. But Naomi reached for his hand, holding him still.

  “Isobel, be reasonable!” Madalena cried. “We know the identity of the witch who attacked Naomi in London. She goes by the name of Genevieve. We believe she’s going to cast a Destruction spell. We need to focus on stopping her, not on taking an innocent witch into custody.”

  “This is the first I’m hearing of a Destruction spell; our focus has been on locating a second Incantation Stone. Why wasn’t this brought to our attention?” Isobel asked, raising her eyebrows. “It’s against protocol to withhold information from the leaders.”

  “Because one of you is a traitor,” Alaric said, removing his hand from Naomi’s as he stepped forward. He bared his fangs, and there was a brief flicker of fear in Isobel’s eyes at the sight. Good. “We don’t trust you,” he added, his gaze sliding to Elisabetta, who returned his look with a glare. “Now unless you’re going to help us find the witch responsible for—“

  Isobel lifted her hand, and he went flying back, slamming against the far wall. Invisible bonds coiled around his body, holding him still. Bloody witches and their damned magic.

  “Please—stop this,” Naomi pleaded. “Let him go.”

  “Threatening a leader is also against protocol. Now, unless Alaric wants us to take him into custody as well—“

  “I’d like to see you try,” Alaric bit out.

  “Again with the threats. You are on thin ice,” Isobel hissed.

  “You will not take—“

  “It’s all right,” Naomi interrupted, stepping forward, her hands up in a placating gesture. “I’ll come with you.”

  The fear that simmered beneath his emotions rose; he looked at her in disbelief. But Naomi’s focus was on Isobel.

  “Good,” Isobel said, relaxing. “This need not be difficult.”

  Isobel lifted her hand, giving Alaric a warning look before releasing him from her spell. He hurried forward to take Naomi’s hands.

  “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered. He could speed away with her and fight off Isobel and Elisabetta if he had to.

  “It’s all right,” Naomi repeated. “The longer we stand here arguing the more time we waste. Let me get this cleared up and I’ll come back.” But her light tone was forced, and fear lurked in her golden eyes.

  “Fine. Then I’m coming with you,” he said, straightening.

  “No,” Elisabetta said. He clenched his teeth; it took everything in his power to remain calm. “No one can accompany a suspect we’re about to question. Remain here, and we’ll return Naomi after we’ve spoken to her.”

  Naomi stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. She pulled back, and he could read her intent in her eyes. I need you to trust me. I’ll get out of this.

  She turned to leave, trailing Isobel and Elisabetta out of the room. Alaric had to force himself to stay still as they left.

  “I’m going to follow them,” Madalena said, after they left. “I’ll use a Cloaking spell to mask my presence.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Elias said, “I’m good at tracking.”

  “Let’s go,” Alaric said, relieved. He started for the door, but Madalena blocked his path.

  “I can disguise mine and Elias’s scents, but they’ll know you’re following because of your Blood Bond with Naomi. It’ll be hard for her to hide her awareness of you.”

  “You can’t expect me to stay here while my mate—“

  “We’ll get her back. You’ll only make things worse,” Elias interrupted, firm.

  Madalena took Elias’s hand, and with one last warning look at Alaric, they apparated from the room. Alaric glared at the spot where they’d just stood, debating whether to follow them anyway.

  “They’re right, and you know it,” Casimir said, “The best way to help Naomi for now is to find Genevieve. We all know she’s probably the one who killed Camille.”

  Alaric clenched his fists, frustrated. How was he supposed to concentrate on anything else while Naomi was in custody?

  “I told you I was right about Elisabetta,” he snapped, glaring at Casimir.

  “And I told you I found nothing suspicious. It looks to me like she’s doing her duty to the Alliance—“

  “Casimir, she—“

  “Whether we agree with it or not,” Casimir interrupted, firm. “Now do you want to argue or help me find Genevieve—which will help Naomi.”

  Alaric took a breath to quell his fury.

  “It’s like we were discussing. I wouldn’t know where to begin looking for Genevieve either,” he muttered.

  “Well, then we—Alaric!” Casimir snapped, as Alaric made his way to the door.

  “I can’t stay here while they have Naomi,” Alaric bit out. But he froze as a familiar scent hit his nostrils. He stepped out into the corridor, bracing himself for a fight.

  Elisabetta approached from the far end of the corridor, holding up her hands.

  “I’m not here to—“ she began.

  “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now!” he snarled. “Where is Naomi? Did you—“

  “If you shut up and listen, I’ll explain!” Elisabetta snapped. He bared his fangs and stalked towards her, but she stood her ground, her blue eyes defiant. “Believe it or not, I’m on your side. I had to act like I agreed with Isobel; I had to play her game.”

  “Why?” Alaric asked, narrowing his eyes.

  “I think I know the identity of the traitor in the Alliance.”

  Some of Alaric’s rage subsided, replaced by disbelief.

  “And I believe the traitor is working directly with Genevieve. I can help you get Naomi back. But we have to work together.”

  “Is this necessary?” Elisabetta asked, wary.

  Moments later, she was seated at the desk in Casimir’s room. At Alaric’s request, Casimir had placed a Binding spell on her; invisible bonds held her still.

  “I don’t trust you,” Alaric said shortly. “Now talk.”

  “I’ve suspected a leader of the Alliance is the traitor ever since I joined.”

  “Why?” Casimir asked.

  “Because confidential information that only they had access to was getting out about the Stone—and Genevieve. I narrowed it down to one of the witches, since this information could only benefit the Order. To me, Isobel and Zahara were the most suspicious—they’ve exhibited anti-vampire and anti-human sentiment in the past, and they’ve seemed unnecessarily hostile to Naomi. I tracked each of them, but Zahara did nothing out of the ordinary. A few days ago, I snapped a photo of Isobel meeting with a suspected Order member. You can look in my purse, the photo’s in my phone.”

  Alaric moved over to her purse and unearthed her cell phone. He tapped on the camera icon and studied the first photo that appeared. It was indeed a photo of Isobel meeting with a familiar looking man. A chill crept through him. He looked familiar because he was one of the witches who attacked them at Elias’s farmhouse. He handed the phone to Casimir, turning back to face Elisabetta.

  “Have you told anyone else about this?”

  “No. I’m not sure who else in the Alliance—besides your group—to trust. And I wanted more proof; Isobel can possibly explain away that meeting. I’ve been offering to stay close to the leaders, to take on extra duties. It’s why I accompanied Isobel to Seattle; she flew out here to meet with local Alliance members. It’s a happy accident I was with her when we got the call about Camille.”

  Alaric studied her. So far
her story panned out, but he was still reluctant to trust her. What if this was a trap?

  “Why are you doing this?” he asked.

  “I told you, I want to help. I’m not the vampire I once was.” She held his gaze, and he only saw truth there . . . but his hesitation lingered.

  “How about this?” she asked, expelling a sigh. “If I’m lying, you can kill me. I won’t put up a fight. Or you can keep these damn bonds on me. But do you want to risk Isobel killing your mate? I can help you get to her.”

  She’s right, he had to grudgingly admit. He looked at Casimir.

  “You’re right to be cautious, but I don’t think she’s lying,” Casimir said, his perceptive gaze still trained on her.

  Alaric didn’t want to risk Naomi’s life over his distrust. He leaned down to Elisabetta, baring his fangs.

  “If you are lying and this is a trap, I will take you up on your offer to kill you. And I can assure you, your death would not be quick and painless.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Elisabetta said, holding his gaze. “Now let’s go rescue your mate.”

  Chapter 19

  Naomi couldn’t see a thing, and the sounds around her were muffled; Isobel had cast a combination Cloaking and Binding spell around her. She felt movement around her; she suspected she was in a car going . . . somewhere. She could only hope they weren’t leaving Seattle.

  She was relieved that she’d concealed her mother’s grimoire amongst her things back at the bed and breakfast with several Cloaking spells; only she, Madalena or Casimir would be able to find it. She had already confined the counter to the Destruction spells to memory. Still, it was difficult to keep calm. Her instincts told her this was more than just a simple questioning; she was in danger. There was a traitor in the Alliance . . . and now she was at their mercy.

  The movement around her came to a stop, and there was a firm pressure on her arm, helping her up. Cool air prickled at her bare skin; she smelled forest and damp earth. Nature. Not the smoggy air of a city. Dread coiled around her body, and her panic rose. Where the hell had they taken her?