28. Chapter 28

28

Chapter 28

Darick

I can't believe my eyes.

What the fuck is she doing here??

Rowan's here…at the vampire-witch meeting. What the hell is she thinking? My blood boils as I watch her sitting next to her grandmother.

Goddammit!

This is a disaster waiting to happen.

Lucien's sharp gaze sweeps the room, and I tense. If he notices any connection between us, it's all over. I can't have that. This new surge of strength I've felt since we've been together is addictive; I'm not prepared to give it up. I have to distance myself, fast.

The debate about the witch abductions continues, voices rising in heated discussion.

"We cannot ignore the pattern of disappearances," Lysandra, one of the witch elders, says firmly. "Our young are vanishing without a trace."

Thaddeus, another witch I've never seen before, nods gravely. "We demand answers and assurances of our people's safety."

I barely hear their words, my focus entirely on Rowan. She's watching the proceedings with wide eyes, drinking it all in. It's too much. I can't let this continue.

"Excuse me," I interrupt, my voice cutting through the chatter. All eyes turn to me. "I'd like to know why we have an outsider in this meeting." I fix Rowan with a cold stare. "This girl is clearly not an elder. Why has she been allowed to attend?"

Rowan's face flushes with anger and hurt. Good. Let her be upset. It's safer that way. If she won't let me into her head to tell her what a dangerous game she's playing, I'll have to find another way to manage things.

"I was invited," she snaps back. "Not that it's any of your business."

"It absolutely is my business," I snarl. "This is a delicate negotiation, not a field trip for curious little girls."

"How dare you—?" Rowan starts, but her grandmother places a restraining hand on her arm.

"Darick," Arabella warns, but I ignore her.

"Perhaps the witches are so desperate they're resorting to sending children to do their work for them," I say, my voice icy. Somewhere down the table, someone muffles an amused snort.

Rowan's jaw clenches. "I'm not a child," she hisses. "And I have every right to be here, learning how to protect my people from bloodsucking monsters like you."

There are those words again.

Bloodsucker. Monster.

I hate that she sees me that way.

Although she didn't seem to see me that way when I was with her earlier. I shift in my seat.

I clench my jaw, fighting to keep my expression neutral as Arabella speaks.

"Please understand Lord Drake's…passion," she says diplomatically, her gaze sweeping the room. "This is a sensitive issue." She looks at me. "But we must remember why we're here. Our two species have a long and complicated history, but this meeting is about finding common ground. "

I can feel Rowan's eyes burning into me. I don't look at her, knowing I might give myself away if I do.

Arabella continues, her voice taking on a stern edge. "Darick, I expect you to control your temper. We're here to negotiate, not antagonize."

I nod stiffly, hating the public reprimand but knowing I have no choice but to accept it. "Of course, Grand Elder. My apologies."

The words taste like dirt in my mouth. I want nothing more than to grab Rowan and get her out of here, away from Lucien's calculating gaze and the dangerous politics at play. But I can't. I've trapped myself with my own outburst.

Seraphina, the High Priestess, speaks up. "Perhaps we should take a brief recess to collect ourselves. Tempers are running high, and a moment of calm might benefit us all."

I see several nods of agreement around the table. Arabella considers for a moment before agreeing. "Very well. Let's reconvene in fifteen minutes."

As the others begin to stand and murmur among themselves, I catch Marcus's eye across the room. He gives me a subtle nod, understanding passing between us. We need to talk, and quickly.

I rise, purposefully avoiding Rowan's direction as I stride toward the door. I can feel her confusion and hurt radiating through our bond; it feels almost personal, as if it's my own pain. I push it aside. This is for her own safety, even if she doesn't realize it.

I pull Marcus into a secluded alcove, my eyes darting around to ensure we're not overheard.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Marcus hisses, his face a mask of confusion and concern.

"That witch, the young one. It's her, Marcus. She's the one I'm bonded to."

His eyes widen in shock. "The blood match? That's her?"

I nod grimly. "Yes. And if Lucien gets even a whiff of this, we're in deep shit. More importantly, she'll be in danger."

Marcus's brow furrows as he processes this information. "Christ, Darick. This complicates things. If he finds out she's your match, he's going to want to get his hands on her."

"You think I don't know that?" I snap. I catch myself. "Sorry. I'm on edge."

He waves off my apology. "No need. I get it. So what's the plan?"

I lean against the wall, staring down at the floor in contemplation. "We need to keep attention away from her. Can you run interference if anyone starts asking questions?"

Marcus nods. "Of course. I'll do what I can to keep eyes off her."

"Good," I say. "Meanwhile, I need to keep a low profile. I can't draw attention to myself or to her."

"Agreed," Marcus says. "But Darick, how long can you keep this up? The bond, the secrecy…it's not sustainable."

I close my eyes for a moment, feeling the truth of his words. "I know. But for now, it's all we've got. I'll lose my clan if they find out I have the Bloodbane."

Marcus pulls a face. "There's always a chance they'll let you lead, especially if they know you have a match."

"It would be unprecedented. Those of us who have it never stay in positions of power. We're compromised."

"But not if you have a blood match, Darick." He seems determined to see the fucking bright side.

"Presenting Rowan as my match before I have a way to protect her is going to put a target on her back. I need to buy some time until I can figure out a solution."

That's if she'll even accept that we're a match. She might be quite happy to tell me to fuck off and starve.

We don't discuss this further; the others are filtering back to the boardroom.

I return to the meeting table, my expression one of calm indifference. As I take my seat, I catch Rowan's eye for a brief moment. There's still hurt there, and it cuts through me, but I force myself to look away. I can't afford to show any interest in her, not here, not now.

Arabella calls the meeting back to order. "Let us continue our discussion of recent events and the concerns that have brought us together today."

I lean back in my chair, determined to keep my composure this time.

Seraphina speaks first. "We know the abductions are a result of the Bloodbane, and vampires needing witch blood to survive."

There's a sharp intake of breath from someone. My own muscles tense, but I remain impassive, determined not to let my emotions show.

Lucien's smooth voice cuts through the tension. "High Priestess, while there may have been a time when such…regrettable incidents occurred, I assure you, things have changed."

I try not to snort. Bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. I know Lucien's involved in far more than just a few random abductions. This runs deeper, much deeper than he's letting on.

But what can I do? I have no proof, nothing concrete to back up my suspicions. If I accuse him now, I'll only make things worse for everyone involved. So I sit, silent and seething, as Lucien continues to weave his web of deceit.

"We've made great strides in synthetic blood alternatives," he lies glibly. "The need for…other sources has greatly diminished."

I catch Marcus's eye across the table. While the technology behind synthetic blood has been advancing, I've heard nothing about us being able to synthesize witch blood. But if Arabella is aware of the lie, she shows no sign of it.

Goddammit!

I have to find a way to topple Lucien off his perch. It's impossible to believe that anyone else is fooled by his scheming. I have to find a way to expose him. I'll dig deeper, push harder, do whatever it takes. He won't get away with this, not if I have anything to say about it.

"Be that as it may," Seraphina responds, "our witches are still disappearing, so this ‘synthetic' alternative of yours may not be much of an alternative at all. I'd suggest you look for another solution."

Lucien glowers at her, not used to being put in his place.

I watch as one of the other witches, Morgan Shadowmaster, I think his name is, speaks out, his eyes flashing with anger. "You vampires think you can simply take our people to meet your need for blood. It's barbaric and unacceptable."

Arabella raises a hand, her voice calm but firm. "That isn't always the case. There have been blood unions between vampires and witches that are consensual – even happy. Several matings have been very successful."

The reaction from the witch contingent is immediate and explosive. I can practically feel the waves of disgust and outrage rolling off them. Lysandra's face contorts with revulsion.

"Fuck that!" barks the tall male called Thaddeus. "I challenge you to show me any witch who would willingly accept such a union. It's…unnatural!"

I feel Rowan's eyes on me and wonder if that's how she feels.

Unnatural.

It didn't feel unnatural when I had her stretched out before me, begging me to take her.

Stop thinking about that now!

The heated conversation flows around me, stray words snagging my attention but mostly passing me by. As I scan the faces of the witches, something catches my eye. Rowan's grandmother, the older witch who'd accompanied her, isn't quite so vocal in her distaste. In fact, she's watching me with an intensity that makes me uncomfortable. Her eyes, wise and knowing, seem fixed on me.

I shift in my seat, trying to maintain my aloof facade. I force myself to look away from the old witch, my gaze inadvertently landing on Rowan. She's staring at her hands, her face flickering with emotions I can't quite decipher. Is she thinking about our encounters? About the way her blood calls to me?

I want to reach out to her, but this isn't the time or place. I have to keep my guard up. But damn, it's hard when she's sitting right there, so close yet completely out of reach.

"Well, now, I think we have a lot to think about." Arabella is standing, and I realize that the meeting is about to come to a close.

"I trust that we will see some improvement in our circumstances," Seraphina says firmly. There is a ripple of murmurs around the table before everyone begins to stand, and the two groups start to filter out of the room.

Outside the meeting room, the vampires cluster together, whispering among themselves, while the witches make their way out of the building.

My eyes never leave Rowan as she moves toward the exit.

I have to talk to her.

I need to explain. This whole situation is a mess, and I can't let her leave thinking I truly meant those harsh words.

I follow Rowan cautiously, keeping my distance as she heads for the entrance hall, her grandmother striding ahead to a small blue sedan parked out front in the parking bays. My eyes dart around, making sure no one's watching before I make my move. When the coast is clear, I reach out and grasp her arm, pulling her to a halt.

"Rowan, wait," I mutter urgently. "I need to explain."

She whirls on me. "Explain what? How you humiliated me in front of everyone?"

I heave an exasperated breath. "I was trying to protect you. You don't understand how dangerous this situation is."

"Protect me?" she hisses, yanking her arm from my grip. "By treating me like a child? By insulting me in front of the entire council?"

"You don't get it," I growl, keeping my voice low. "If certain people in that room knew about our connection, you'd be in serious danger. I had to distance myself from you."

Rowan's jaw clenches, her eyes narrowing. "Oh, I get it perfectly. You wish we weren't stuck with each other. Well, guess what? The feeling's mutual."

Her words sting more than I care to admit. "That's not it at all. I'm trying to keep you safe."

"Save it," she snaps, backing away. "I don't need your protection. Just get lost, Darick."

Before I can say another word, she turns and storms off, leaving me standing there like an idiot. I watch her go, frustration and something dangerously close to hurt churning in my gut.

Fuck.

I close my eyes for a moment. This whole situation is spiraling out of control. A year ago, if someone had told me I'd be chasing after a witch, trying to explain myself, I'd have laughed in their face. Now look at me.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't hear Lucien approach until his silky voice cuts through my thoughts.

"Trouble in paradise, Darick?"

I whirl around, cursing myself for letting my guard down. Lucien stands there, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. My skin crawls at the sight of him.

"What do you want, Lucien?" I growl, not bothering to hide my irritation.

He chuckles, a sound that sets my teeth on edge. "Oh, nothing much. Just couldn't help but notice your…interest in our witch visitors. Particularly the spicy one."

I feel my muscles tense, but I force myself to remain outwardly calm. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come now, Darick," Lucien purrs, his eyes calculating. "There's no need to be coy. I can see you've developed quite a taste for witches. And who could blame you when they look like that?"

I clench my fists, wishing I could wipe that smug look off his face. "You're imagining things."

Lucien's voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, I could help you with that. Provide a steady supply, so to speak. I scratch your itch…you help me with mine…"

The implication behind his words makes my stomach turn. I take a step back, disgust written all over my face.

"I'm not interested in anything you have to offer, Lucien," I snarl.

Without waiting for a response, I turn on my heel and stalk off. I can't figure out what his new gameplan is, but I know this isn't the end of it. Lucien's not one to let things go, and I have a sinking feeling that there's going to be a lot more in store from him.