10. Chapter 10

10

Chapter 10

Darick

T he flickering candlelight casts a warm glow over the dark mahogany bookshelves lining the walls of my study. Shadows dance across the ornate furniture, lending an air of mystery to the space. My eyes scan the familiar shelves of books, their worn spines and leather binding. I love being in this room.

Yet, despite the comforting familiarity, a sense of unease has taken root in me. The events of the past few days are bothering me.

I lower myself into the high-backed chair behind my desk. With a heavy sigh, I allow my gaze to drift to the window, where the pale moonlight filters through the panes.

The same moon that looked down on that sacred grove just two days ago. It was full then. It's beginning to wane now.

Lucien's attack on the witches' gathering worries me.

"Fucking fool!" I mutter; the words seem loud in the silence of the room. I can't believe the fucker could take such a risk. But then again, I shouldn't be surprised. He's never been a man of honor. The fact that he discussed his intentions before the entire Assembly shows that he's already made up his mind about this. I need to get to the bottom of it.

But what worries me just as much is this freakish connection I have…with a witch. One who was present at the very gathering Lucien chose to attack.

I rub my eyes with one hand, trying to make sense of the bizarre situation.

How the fuck could this happen?

With a growl, I push myself up from the chair and begin to prowl about the room. I cannot afford to be distracted by this…this complication . Not when Lucien's ambitions pose such a threat, and I must remain vigilant, focused.

But I can't help myself. It's like having a splinter beneath my skin. I find myself constantly drawn to the faint whispers of her thoughts, the fleeting impressions of her emotions. It is both maddening and…intriguing.

Spinning on my heel, I heave an exasperated breath as I pace in the opposite direction. I must find a way to sever this connection, to push the witch out of my mind. I stop my pacing and head back to my desk. As I settle into my chair once more, a faint whisper suddenly brushes against the edges of my consciousness.

At first, it's nothing more than a distant murmur, indistinct and fleeting. But then, slowly, the voice grows clearer, more defined. I can hear the cadence, the inflection – it's unmistakably her .

"Yeah, Kara, you go, girl!"

I freeze, every muscle tensing as I start to make out words.

Fuck. Not again.

My jaw clenches as irritation flares within me. Of all the times she'd intrude again, why now, when I'm thinking of a way to get rid of her?

But no, here she is, her thoughts seeping into my mind once more. I grit my teeth, willing myself to ignore the intrusion.

Damn it all to hell!

I need to find a way to cut this goddamned connection, to block her out completely. The last thing I need is for my judgment to be clouded by her incessant chatter.

"One day, they'll look at me that way. I'll make it happen!"

As I move, I catch glimpses of her thoughts – fragments of memory, flashes of emotion. I see the image of a woman, older but radiating a quiet strength; it's the woman from the grove, the one who wielded such formidable magic.

I shake my head, trying to shove the images away. I can't get drawn in, to become invested in her life and her troubles. I focus hard on shutting out the sound.

As the minutes tick by, I can feel the connection beginning to waver, the whispers of her thoughts growing fainter.

Good. I will not be tied to this…this witch , goddammit.

But it's just as I'm certain that I've silenced her completely that a swirl of rage surfaces that feels so strong that it could be my own. Except it's not.

"Just another mindless animal."

She's referring to me.

What the fuck?

"I'm not a mindless animal," I bark into the silence. I've had enough of this shit. It's bad enough that I have to hear her; I won't tolerate her throwing insults around.

There's a moment that feels like a dark vacuum sucking me in. And then a flood of emotion. Horror. Fury.

"Get out of my head! You have no right to be here!"

Her words slam into me, sharp and accusing. I can practically feel the heat of her anger scorching through our connection.

"I don't want to be," I snap back, my own temper flaring in response to her hostility. "Believe me, the last thing I want is an unwanted guest in my mind."

There's a brief silence, and for a moment, I think she's withdrawn. But then her thoughts come crashing back with renewed force.

"How long have you been listening?"

I scoff at the accusation. "I haven't been listening to anything," I retort, shifting back in my chair. "I'm not interested in the petty squabbles of your little coven."

It's a lie, of course. As much as I try to deny it, fragments of her thoughts have slipped through – impressions and images that linger in my mind.

The protective spells they intend to cast. Potential alliances with other witch factions. Invaluable information, if only I could grasp it fully.

My back stiffens as the realization hits me. I could use this connection to my advantage…to gain insights into the inner workings of the witch community. Knowledge is power, after all.

"You're lying!" Her mental voice slices through my thoughts, laced with outrage. "What did you hear?"

"Nothing of consequence," I drawl. "Just your mindless babbling, as usual."

But she's not fooled. I can sense the terror welling up inside her, a cold wave of dread crashing over her thoughts.

"No…you couldn't have…"

Her sudden panic is like a living thing that seems to coil around me. It's a feeling that I… I don't like. I don't like it at all.

"Why are you doing this? How is this even possible?" Her thoughts race, tumbling over one another. "Leave me alone!"

"Calm yourself, witch," I say, keeping my tone even and measured. "This benefits neither of us."

"Really? Because the way I see it, you stand to benefit a whole fucking lot!"

There's a strange buzzing sensation as more thoughts tumble around. She's terrified that I'm going to use this information.

I should. It would be wrong in so many ways, but I'm a vampire first – my people could benefit. Except the one who stands to benefit most is Lucien fucking Marlow.

I grind my teeth. There's no way I'll give that asshole any sort of upper hand. Sharing this news with anyone means risking him finding out.

The best thing to do right now is to put a stop to this. I pause, considering my next words carefully.

"We need to meet. In person." The suggestion surprises even me, but I can't deny the logic behind it. "To discuss…whatever this is."

There's silence and then a burst of outrage.

"What? Meet? No!" She's bristling with indignation.

"There's no other way." I know it's true as I say it.

"Not a chance. This is just another of your tricks. You people are…slimy."

Slimy?

I don't respond to the jibe. "Suit yourself. Just don't whine the next time you find me popping into your thoughts while you're in the shower."

There's a gasp. "You wouldn't!"

"Maybe I wouldn't. Maybe I would. Who knows when this thing will trigger again?" I suddenly find myself liking the idea of her in the shower. A lot.

"This… I… I don't know…" She's fumbling for an answer.

"If we're going to end this bullshit, we have to work this thing out. And the only way is face to face." I don't know how I know it; I just do.

There's a tense moment, and I know she's realizing it too.

And for some reason, I feel something tightening in my gut. A strange pull that feels like…hunger.

Or lust.

"Okay." It comes out as a husky whisper. A whisper that tugs lower than my gut this time.

Lust. Definitely lust.

And I'm going to meet her.