Jude’s expression softened, and he stretched out a hand to steady her. “Hey, it’s an understandable mistake. You spent almost your entire life thinking you had no one.”
Raze slapped his hand away, anger slicing through her shock. “I don’t want your pity. I want to know why you’re here.”
He straightened, pulling away from her, his face hardening. “I’m here because I have your grandparents,” he said coldly. “Can you believe they never even knew they had a granddaughter? The Guild never told them. Poor Oskar and Agatha. It came as quite a shock to them.”
He held out a photocopied birth certificate. Her father Jonathan’s. The names were there: Oskar and Agatha Pietrowicz. Neatly clipped to the top were copies of two passports with her grandparents’ photos. He waited for her to look through it all, and then showed her his cell phone. The two elderly people on the screen were clearly the same ones from the passport pictures. They sat together on a bed, handcuffed to each other. The woman was fiercely defiant, a challenge in her eyes. The man just looked ill.
“Don’t worry, they’re perfectly comfortable. Well, Agatha is. Poor Oskar has terminal cancer. I’m afraid he hasn’t a lot of time left. But I’ll do my best to keep him alive until you come through with my request.”
“You utter bastard,” she hissed.
Jude looked entertained by her fury. “Now, now. You’re sharp enough. You know how this game goes. You play nice, get me that sword, and I’ll make sure they’re released. I don’t need to tell you not to breathe one word of this to your pixie boy, or to anyone else in the Guild, do I? Not that the Guild would care. Not that the Guild was planning on sharing you with your grandparents, anytime soon.”
He picked up the winter jacket he’d slung on a chair. “Sleep on it. On Thursday night, I’ll bring you the counter spell for Lix’s contract. If we have a deal, I’ll lift it for you.”
She didn’t answer, not trusting her voice. She was furious. She wanted to grab the demon and shake him out of his composure. Make him angry, or… or anything. Something to get more from him than that superior smirk of someone who was used to being in control, all the time.
He was almost at the door when she managed to bite down her rage enough to speak. “Why me?” she snapped out. “You could have gone to any of the witches.”
Jude turned, head tilted slightly to one side as if he was studying her. He smiled, amused. “Why you? Because beneath Raze, beneath that flimsy layer of rebellion you wear like a badge or a banner, you’re a good girl. You’re Rose. You’ll do the right thing. You’ll get me that sword, and you’ll save your kinfolk. It’s what good girls do.” He glanced over at the table, where he’d pointedly left the photocopied documents. “Thursday. I’ll see you then.”
He turned and walked away. Raze slammed the door and set the deadbolt. She leaned against it, closing her eyes. Family. If she were to trust Jude — which she didn’t — then she could have that. Her real family: her blood. All she had to do was betray the people who’d kept her alive for seventeen years.
CHAPTER TEN
Del
Del hovered at the door to Alex’s office until he noticed and stilled his hands on the keyboard.
“Del. Come on in. Can I help you with anything?”
“I want to talk to him again. The witch. John.”
“Can I ask why? Because last time he made it pretty clear he knew nothing about the bloodline curse you seem to be under.”
“I don’t seem to be under a curse, I am under one.” Her tone came out more on edge than she’d planned, but the damn scars on her arm had been haunting her thoughts. Lately, whenever she reached inside for the presence of the Heart Blade, she was sure she heard it whisper to her in a soft sigh. Never give up. Never give in. Never let the darkness win. Never, never, never…
She took a deep breath and let it out again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. But I do want to ask him something. You know how you mentioned the Court of the Covenant has a library? And the Guild has one too. So I figured, maybe the witches have one of their own. Like, a central records type thing? So if I don’t find anything on Rowan at the Court, that can be my next step. I mean, there has to be something on her, somewhere, right?”
Alex looked troubled. “I don’t know, Del. The vision you described sounds pretty ancient. And the names, too. There was an Ailith, right?”
“Yes. And Ethel, Gertie, Ingrid. And a boy, Torr.” She knew the names from her vision by heart. They’d been Rowan’s coven, them and the others, the ones who hadn’t made it. The ones Rowan had betrayed, and the reason she’d been cursed. Only, more and more, Del was convinced this wasn’t a vision, exactly. It was too raw, too real. It felt like a memory, one burned deep into her very soul.
“Old names, Del. Perhaps from my time? Or even before. Take Ingrid. There were still some Norse names around when I was born, but not so many. They lost popularity after William the Conqueror invaded England. I should know; my mother was of Viking blood. I’m guessing your vision is set somewhere in early medieval Britain. Which means you may not find coven records that reach that far. I really wouldn’t get your hopes up.”
“Could I ask, though? Please?”
He gave a quiet laugh. “Of course. Ask Ryan to accompany you. You know who he is, right?”
“Security guy with the dark hair and stubble. Really shy. Really…” She mimed muscles.
“That’s the one. Let me know if you get anything from John. That could be interesting information.”
Alex went back to typing, and Del set off to find the guard. She found him in the entrance hall, staring out at the wintery grounds through one of the tall windows that flanked the heavy oak door. She cleared her throat.
“Ryan, right?”
He turned and nodded. “Yeah, that’s me. Can I help you?”
“Alex said you’d escort me to the witch’s cell. Room, I mean. I have a question for him.”
“Sure, did you want to go now?”
“Yes, if that’s okay.”
He nodded again and turned to head toward the back of the building, where the stairs were. Del followed in silence; clearly Ryan wasn’t much of a talker. They were just passing the dining hall when Ash walked out.
“Del! I was looking for you. I wanted to see if you were up for—” His voice trailed off when he noticed the security guard. “Oh, hey, Ryan. Good game, right? And that three-point shot of yours? Wow.”
Del looked from one guy to the other, surprised. “You two hang out?”
“Uh, you saw us,” Ash answered. “Remember? The residents’ basketball game we had a couple of weeks ago? You were right there.” He grinned. “But good to know my girlfriend doesn’t get distracted by other guys.”
Del punched him lightly in the arm. “Don’t get too full of yourself.” She was joking, though, because he was right. There really wasn’t anyone else. And the Heart Blade agreed — even now, when they’d seen each other just a couple of hours before, it reached out, welcoming his presence, and something inside her settled, the way it always did when he was near.
Next to Ash, Ryan was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Sorry,” Del told him. “I’m holding you up.”
“Where are you guys going?” asked Ash.
“Down to visit the witch, John. I want to ask him about libraries and coven records. I figured it’s worth a shot.” She stared at the floorboards, worn smooth and glossy with age. “I know you think I’m obsessed or something, but it’s important to me.”
Ash set a hand on her cheek, running his thumb across her cheekbone. She looked up to find him smiling softly at her, his honey-brown eyes warm. “Del, I might not get the whole Rowan thing, but I can stand by you, you know. If it’s important to you, then that’s all that matters. Can I come with you?”
“Yeah,” she breathed. “Yes, I’d like that.”
Ryan led the way to the stairwell, just outside the far end of the dining hall. As they passed the kitchen, one of the on-du
ty staff stuck her head out. “Are you heading downstairs? Can you take this?” She shoved a covered plate at Ryan. “The prisoner asked for more dessert. Tell him there’s no more pudding, he’ll have to make do with brownies.”
The guard took the plate and unlocked the door to the stairwell. As he started down, Del said, “I hope you don’t mind if I ask, but what are you?” Ryan’s aura looked a little like hers, but lighter, a shimmery green that was more silver than anything else.
“He’s a nymph,” Ash answered from behind her.
“Really? I thought only girls were nymphs,” she said without thinking. She realized Ryan was blushing, pink staining his ears and the back of his neck. “Um, sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m still learning.”
“It’s okay,” Ryan said quietly. “Greek mythology has a lot to answer for. No, nymphs come in all, uh, shapes and sizes.” He was still facing away, looking resolutely at the stairs they were walking down. But Del could see that the blush staining the back of his neck had deepened to a dark red now. She felt bad for embarrassing him. She remembered something.
“Your aura isn’t that different from mine. That’s why John thought I was some sort of tree sprite when I visited him last time.” Ryan didn’t answer, and Ash also said nothing. Del knew he was still a little hurt that she hadn’t told him she’d planned on the first visit to the witch, and that she’d waited until he was away. But she couldn’t help that now. It was done.
They reached the hallway and walked in silence to John’s room. Ryan keyed in the code and held the door for them. When they were all inside, he set the plate on the table. John was watching them.
“Well, now. Dessert and a surprise visit from the little Heart Bearer.” He uncovered the plate. “No more pudding?”
“The kitchen staff said it was finished,” Del answered.
John shrugged, picking up the fork. “I like brownies, too.” He shoved a bite in his mouth, and then another. “This is good. You Guild people sure eat well. So, to what do I owe the pleasure? And who’s the angel?”
“I’m Ash.” Del noticed he didn’t give out his full name. “I’m…”
“He’s with me,” she said quickly. But the witch didn’t notice Ash’s hesitation. He looked like he was choking, eyes wide and startled. He made a horrible gasping noise, and grabbed his throat with both hands. The fork clattered to the table as he staggered to his feet.
Ryan was behind him in an instant, arms reaching around John’s chest to do the Heimlich maneuver. But John batted him away. “Nut allergy,” he gasped out. Seconds later, he collapsed, slumping unconscious into Ryan’s arms.
“Shit!” shouted the nymph. “I think he’s going into cardiac arrest. Get someone on the intercom! Over by the door.”
Ash ran for the door, and Del dimly heard him shouting for help. But she was already reaching inside, tuning everything out but the witch’s pain. She settled on the floor beside him and reached out to place her hands on his chest. She knew she was glowing; could see her hands shine against his t-shirt. But her mind was turned inward, focusing on the Heart Blade’s warmth and forging a connection to the witch.
Moments later, it was all over. His normal color returned, and he began to breathe again. He was still out, but it was the easy rest of natural sleep. She opened her eyes to see Ryan staring at her, mouth open.
“He’s all right,” she said. “He won’t die. He’s just sleeping, now.”
Ryan shook his head. “That was… that was amazing.” He looked down at the witch he held cradled in his lap.
“I’m just glad I could help,” she answered.
***
Later, after John had been taken to the infirmary, Alex called Del and Ash to his office. “I’ve already talked to Ryan. I wanted your version, if that’s okay. I know today was pretty intense.”
Ash looked at Del, and when she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, he started. “Ryan let us in, and set the plate of brownies on the table. John made some small talk about dessert, and took a bite. No, two bites. He began talking, and then, just as I was introducing myself, he began having trouble breathing. The only other thing he said was ‘nut allergy’, when he realized that Ryan was going to give him the Heimlich maneuver.”
“We thought he was choking,” Del added.
“So it was all very sudden?” Alex asked. He looked thoughtful. “As it turns out, there were traces of nuts in the brownies. Not much, though. When he arrived here, he told us he was ‘mildly allergic’ to nuts. That’s not a ‘mild allergy’. He’d have to be severely allergic to react that fast. And even so…”
Del exchanged a puzzled glance with Ash. “What are you thinking, Alex?”
“I’m not thinking, I’m remembering. Once, a long time ago, long before things like EpiPens had been invented, a young woman I knew was stung by bees. A fatal allergic reaction, as it turned out.”
“And was it like this?” Del gripped Ash’s hand a little harder, the witch’s gasping face flashing before her eyes. “Was it all as fast as this?”
“No.” Alex’s expression was unreadable, his face a smooth mask. “No, it wasn’t.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Raze
Raze spent most of her Tuesday in a neighborhood library. At least it was warm there, unlike the shabby little apartment Alex had set her up in. She tracked down as much as she could on Oskar and Agatha Pietrowicz, hoping it had all been some elaborate bluff. But no such luck. As far as she could tell, they were for real: absolutely one hundred percent her grandparents.
She was torn between the urge to tell Alex and ask for help, and the fear that if she did, she might doom them. Also, she wasn’t sure she could trust the Guild in this. Maybe they had their reasons for not telling her she had family around. Maybe they didn’t. But the fact was, Alex had chosen not to share that bit of information. How could she trust him to put their well-being above the Night Blade?
Finn called around two pm. She left the library to answer, huddling in an archway with her back to the wind. “Right,” he said. “So, I haven’t figured out a way to report back to Alex yet. I tried texting — just a single word! — and that went horribly wrong. Worse, this time. The spell must act progressively. You know — each act of betrayal, a bigger punishment. I coughed up blood for a couple of hours; I can still taste it. And it’s not even like we have much to tell him yet. But apparently the spell has no problems with me carrying out my own personal research, so I’ve looked up our companions.”
She heard a rustle of papers. “Angelica Reis, black sheep of the Reis clan. You said you know who she is, so I’ll skip her. May is some sort of distant cousin — Flavia Mayumi Yamashita. She was born in Brazil — a sansei, third-generation Japanese — but has lived in the US since she was ten. She’s about a month away from her nineteenth birthday. Lives with her parents, who turn a blind eye to her running around in Lix’s crew. Gareth Travers is twenty-two. He’s from a witch family from Oregon, got kicked out when he turned sixteen for getting the wrong girl in trouble. My sources say it was a consensual, teen-love sort of thing, but her family is from a powerful coven, so Gareth had to relocate to the East Coast. He was from the wrong bloodline, apparently.”
“What do you mean?” she interrupted.
“Witch dynasties are weird. You’ve learnt, right, that not all witches inherit their parents’ abilities? So that makes them paranoid about stuff like marriage and breeding. Uh, having kids, I mean. The really powerful families won’t let their children have relationships with non-witches, and they look for alliances in other families with strong bloodlines, or marry their kids off to cousins. Blood is everything. Kind of like the old monarchies in Europe, but with magical genes thrown into the mix.”
“Huh. Sucks to be a witch,” she said. “I guess I should be glad I’m a werewolf.” She wondered what her father’s family had thought of his defection to the Guild and to her mother’s side. She had a feeling they might not have taken it well. Maybe Alex had his reaso
ns for keeping her from her grandparents, after all. But that should have been her call to make, not his. She deserved the truth. Resentment flared up inside, and she tried not to think of Jude Raven’s pitying look when he’d told her about her grandparents and seen the shock all over her face.
“Hello? Earth to Raze? You went silent…”
“Sorry! Just thinking… So, Ben, he’s a witch too. What’s his story?”
“Ah. Benjamin Kelley. I found plenty of information on that one. Quite the tale there.” Finn’s voice dropped conspiratorially. “His parents were executed by the Court as traitors. They were found guilty of slaughtering their entire coven. They killed all their direct family members. Everyone except their son Ben, who was thirteen at the time. He was cast out of witch society, of course. Lived on the streets, survived however he could. Which is how he fell in with Lix and Gareth.”
“But that’s awful!” she burst out. “He was punished for his parents’ crimes?”
“Hey, that’s the Court of the Covenant for you. Warm and fuzzy, they are not. Our Ben is considered tainted goods. And one guess who has it in for him in a big way? Our not-so-secret buyer, Baroness Reis.”
“What, for working with Lix?”
“Nah,” he said. “She probably couldn’t care less about her niece. Black sheep, remember? The grapevine says that he was caught with Reis’ son. And remember what I said about bloodlines… The Reis kid is the heir to the entire dynasty. He has a brother and a sister — he’s not even the eldest of the bunch — but he was the only one born with magic. Poor guy doesn’t get to choose who he wants to be with. He’ll be expected to have sweet little witchlets with some parentally approved spouse, and Ben Kelley is a distraction.”
“So why would the Baroness even hire Lix? She must have known Ben was part of her regular crew.”
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