Chapter 14

Fourteen

I wake to Bran giving me a gentle nudge. “Mouse.” His voice is quiet but raspy like he spent all night shouting. He’s crouched beside the couch in front of me, putting him at eye-level.

“Hi,” I say, stretching on the couch. “What time is it?”

He reaches over and pushes a stray lock of hair away from my face and instinctively I turn into his touch.

“It’s four a.m.”

“Really? You’ve been gone a while.”

“Damien and I got hung up.”

For the Duval brothers, “hung up” could mean a hundred different things, half of which would be bloody.

I don’t ask because I don’t want to know.

I look down the length of the massive couch to find Kelly’s head in Damien’s lap. His fingers are trailing through her hair. Neither of them is speaking, but I still get the impression that what they’re saying can be heard loud and clear.

My sister is in love with Damien Duval.

And Damien is in love with her.

Whatever has to happen today for them to be together will be worth it.

And thinking this— today —makes me realize it’s my birthday.

“I need you to get up,” Bran says.

I groan. “Can’t you just carry me to bed?”

“It’s not that.”

I look up at him with clearer focus. “Then what?”

Please tell me it’s not some other crisis. Some other secret or war on the horizon. I can’t take anymore.

“Bianca is here and she wants to speak to you.”

“Oh?” I sit up and look around the living room, but don’t spot my witch friend.

“She’s in the main house,” Bran says. “Come.” He straightens and offers me his hand. Before I take it, I give my sister another glance. “Kels?”

“Hmmm?” she mumbles, her eyes still closed.

“I’ll be back in a bit. You’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” Her voice is muzzy and faraway.

I follow Bran out of the Anneliese and smooth down my hair as we walk. I’ve never gotten the impression that Bianca is the type to judge people, but it’s hard not to feel sloppy and inferior next to her. She’s always put together. Always looking fierce.

Bran leads the way across the courtyard, then through the halls of Duval House. The hallways are full of vampires either returning to the party or leaving it. There’s still a few hours left of darkness and they seem dedicated to taking advantage of it in one way or another.

Everyone we pass nods at Bran then immediately casts their gaze to the floor.

He ignores all of them.

We enter a sitting room with a giant fireplace and an oil painting of a black horse hanging over the mantel in a gilded frame.

I immediately know this is one of Bran’s personal spaces. It smells like him. Feels like him. And looks like him.

Except for the horse painting. That’s the only thing that sticks out from the décor.

I never took him for a horse enthusiast. Of course, he comes from a time when horses were the only mode of transportation so maybe I’m wrong.

Bianca rises to her feet when we enter. She’s wearing a pleated plaid skirt with a navy-blue sweater, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows.

As she rises, two delicate gold chains slide down to her wrist.

Despite the late hour, she looks like she just walked off stage from a mock political campaign at a New England boarding school.

I must look like I just rolled off a couch.

“Jessie, hi,” she says and smiles brightly at me.

“Hey, Bee. It’s nice to see you.”

She nods and then looks at Bran.

He sighs behind me. “I promised Bianca I’d let her speak to you alone. I am a man of my word.” But he smiles tightly while he says it, like it gives him no great pleasure. “You have ten minutes,” he adds and then leaves, shutting the door behind him.

“He’s probably just listening somewhere beyond the room,” I warn her.

“I know.” She breathes out through her nose with exasperation. “But I suppose it’s the show of privacy that’s most important. Come here. I feel like it’s been forever since we saw each other last.” She holds out her arms to me and I give her a quick hug.

“Things have been…wild,” I say.

“Yes. That might be an understatement.”

“I appreciate you not saying anything about what happened at the trial at the vampire court. This whole thing with my sister and Julian is?—”

“Wrong,” she says.

I nod. “Yes. That.” I sit in one of the leather wingbacks. “So did you agree to help my sister against the Renshaw witches?”

“Not quite yet.” She sits down in the chair next to me. “How much did Bran tell you about his plan?”

“Not much. Only that he wanted to ally with you because you might be strong enough to stand against the Renshaws.”

She nods. “He also asked me to join Duval House as their personal witch.”

“He what ?”

“I wanted to hear your opinion before I gave him an answer.”

“But…he… hold on .”

“I know it’s unprecedented, but I will admit, I like being a trailblazer.”

“So…you would leave your house and join Duval House? Would the Mulligans even let you do that?”

“Witches aren’t the same as wolves and vampires. We’re not territorial. My dad will hate it. My mom will love it.” She rolls her eyes at the mention of her mother. “The coven will really, really hate it. But like I said, they can’t force me to stay and they won’t want to stand up against the Duval brothers. Not when I came by choice.”

“But why would you do that?”

“You have to seize an opportunity when it comes to you even if it sounds potentially foolish.” She laughs to herself. “If I’m honest, Bran really sold me on you.”

“Me?”

“He told me you’re fae.”

I go still in the chair.

“So it’s true?” she asks.

With a sigh, I give her a nod.

“Then my decision is made.”

I snort. “Because I’m fae? There are plenty of fae in Midnight.”

“Yes, but why has your identity been hidden? And why is Julian so desperate to possess you and your sister?”

Leave it to Bianca to suss out the details in literally a few hours of possessing just a few pieces of the puzzle. She was always the smartest in school. She graduated Valedictorian of her class. She could have gone on to one of the ivy league schools if she’d wanted.

“Instinct has always been my driver,” Bianca goes on. “You have to listen to your gut, but more than that, you have to hone that skill so that when the time comes, you know exactly what decision to make based on nothing more than a feeling.” She sits forward and clasps her hands in front of her, elbows on her knees. “And my gut is telling me not only will you and your sister need me, but that whatever type of fae you are, I will want to be on your side because of it.”

My throat thickens and I swallow against it. “I’m no one special, Bee.”

Her red lips spread into a grin. “I don’t believe that, Jessie. And I suspect deep down, neither do you.”

A shiver races up my spine.

I don’t know what to say to that. Is there anything to say? My brain is telling me I’m no one special, but everything else— everyone else —is saying the opposite.

Thankfully, Bran saves me by coming into the office without knocking. “Now that that’s settled,” he says. “We need you to work your magic on Kelly.”

Bianca nods. “Of course. Lead the way.”

Since Bianca is technically human, the magic of the invitation doesn’t apply to her and she walks into the Anneliese between me and Bran with no trouble at all. We find Kelly and Damien sitting silently in the living room.

When Damien sees Bianca, he says, “Do we have a deal?”

“We do,” she says. “But we should talk about our options before you decide on the best course of action.”

Damien gestures to a chair. “Sit.”

Bee sits in one of the two chairs by the window and takes a deep breath before explaining. “Vampire blood is a good plan, but it’s permanent, right? So I think it should be our last resort. There are several other spells I could perform, all of which would have varying degrees of protection and success.

“I’m sure you know that spells are like keys and without knowing the corresponding lock, it’ll be impossible to give you a hundred percent guarantee that Kelly will be safe.”

“We know how magic works,” Bran says. He’s standing at the edge of the living room, his arms crossed over his chest. “What’s the next best line of protection after vampire blood?”

Bee glances at Damien. His gaze is on her, but she doesn’t shrink away from him. “You could link Kelly to you. You are immortal. Your life essence is infinite. If she was to die, the spell would activate and your energy would flow her way.”

Damien doesn’t react. Kelly scoffs. “We’re not doing that,” she says.

“Yes, we are,” Damien answers.

“You should know the risk,” Bee says.

“I don’t care what the risk is.”

“Damien!” Kelly shouts. “You’re not doing that.”

He finally looks at her. “You don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, mon petit chaton.”

She scowls at him, but clamps her mouth shut.

I arch a brow at Bran, but he just shakes his head at me.

What does mon petit chaton mean? I’m definitely going to ask him later.

“What are the risks?” Bran asks.

Bianca clasps her hands together, her arms resting on her thighs. “Whatever happens to Kelly, happens to Damien. That’s the way I’d structure the spell. If it’s a life we’re worried about, Damien has plenty to give. So it wouldn’t be an issue. But there can be a sort of backdraft of magic depending on the power behind it or the type of spell the Renshaws use, and the current can shift to the deeper well, that is, Damien .”

The brothers talk over us, but this time they speak in a language that is neither English nor French.

“That’s not fair,” I say. “Bee?”

She shrugs at me. “That sounds like Greek. I don’t speak Greek.”

“Bran,” I say. “Quit cutting us out of the conversation.”

Damien glares at me then carries on.

Bran gives him one more answer in Greek and then sighs. “We’ll do the linking spell.”

“What if I refuse?” Kelly asks.

“I won’t allow it.” Damien settles his darkened gaze on her. “You will do the spell. I won’t tell you again.”

I don’t know if I should hate Damien for trying to boss my sister around or be a little jealous of Kelly. I know what it’s like to be commanded by a Duval.

Damien is even better at it than Bran.

“What do you need?” Damien asks Bee.

“Just blood.”

“No herbs or crystals or any of that shit?” Bran asks.

Bianca shakes her head. “Mulligans don’t need accoutrements.”

Damien stands up. “Then let’s get started.”

Because Bianca doesn’t need all of the witchy accessories that Rita does to perform magic, I have to admit, it’s not quite as magical.

There’s just a knife and a stainless-steel bowl on the kitchen island.

“We draw blood,” Bee explains, “and the blood from both of you will go into the bowl. I’ll perform the spell and that will link you. It usually lasts a few days before the effects wear off.”

“What will it feel like?” Kelly asks.

“I’ve never been linked myself, but I’ve been told it’s different for different people. Some describe it as nothing more than a phantom sensation. Others have been able to sense what the other is feeling. It really all depends on how close you are.”

How close are my sister and Damien? Maybe they love each other, but they’ve been holding each other at arm’s length for a while, I suspect.

“Ready?” Bianca asks.

Damien gives her his hand. “Be quick,” he tells her. “The wound will heal fast.”

She nods and pulls the blade over the palm of his hand, then turns him toward the bowl. She gets out barely a dribble before the wound is closed.

“Is that enough?” Damien asks.

Bianca winces. “Not quite.”

He takes the blade from her, fists it in his other hand, then jams the blade right through his palm.

Kelly yelps and staggers back. Bianca frowns. Seems living with Duvals requires constant exposure to blood and guts. I’m coming to expect it now.

With the blade still stuck in his flesh, Damien holds his hand over the bowl and lets the blood trail down.

“That should be good,” Bianca says after a few seconds.

Damien pulls the dagger out, spins it around and hands it to Bianca, hilt first.

She hesitates a second before taking it.

Next, Kelly holds her hand over the bowl and Bianca draws the blade over the fleshy part of her palm.

Kelly hisses from pain as blood wells in the wound, then trails down into the bowl, mixing with Damien’s.

When Bianca is satisfied with what they’ve gathered, Damien bites his wrist and adds his blood to my sister’s glass of wine.

“Drink,” he orders her.

“I thought the whole reason we were doing this is so I wouldn’t turn into a vampire? If I drink that and I die tomorrow, I will be changed.”

“It’s for the wound in your hand,” he tells her.

She frowns at him. “You expect me to believe that?”

He doesn’t answer.

With a huff, my sister takes the offering and drinks it back.

“I’ll link you now,” Bianca says. “If you’re ready?”

“Carry on.” Damien crosses his arms over his chest as my sister slouches against the edge of the counter.

Beside me, I sense Bran growing agitated and when I look over at him, his brow is sunk in a deep V. It makes me wonder what the conversation in Greek was.

Bee holds her hands over the bowl of mixed blood and whispers Latin beneath her breath.

The hair along my arms rises.

Bran takes a step closer to me.

The bowl ignites with a WHUMP and bright green flames dance inside of it, highlighting Bianca’s face in a sinister glow.

Kelly lurches and in a blink, Damien is beside her, his arm around her waist. “ Minou?” he says, worry hardening his eyes.

“I’m okay.”

“It’s done,” Bee says.

“That’s it?” I ask.

“Magic, at the root of it, is very, very simple.”

“Thank you,” Damien says.

I have a feeling Damien doesn’t thank people very often.

“You’re welcome,” Bianca answers.

“Sky,” Damien calls.

Bran says something in French.

Damien responds in English. “You’ll get what you’re owed. Just not today.”

Sky appears outside the Anneliese, hands on her hips. “You summoned me?”

“Show Bianca out.”

“I can find my own way,” Bianca starts, but Damien shoots a warning glance her way and she relents. “When would you like me to move into the house?”

“As soon as you’ve wrapped up your business with the Mulligans and have packed your things. You tell me how quickly you can make it happen.”

“Give me two days.”

The brothers exchange a look. “That will suffice,” Damien says. “But be at the Pledge today.”

She nods and then follows Sky back through the courtyard.

“Do you guys feel any different?” I ask.

Kelly’s face is flushed and her chest is heaving, almost like she just ran around the block. Damien meets her gaze. Some silent conversation passes between them and then Damien grabs my sister by the wrist and drags her out of the house.

“Hey! Where are you?—”

Bran wraps his hand around my upper arm and swings me around to stop me from chasing after them.

“Let them be,” he tells me.

“But where?—”

He gives me a look.

“What? What is it?”

“Listen to me.”

“I am.”

“Let. Them. Be .”

It finally dawns on me.

“Oh. Ohhhh .”

“Yes.”

I sigh and scrub at my face. “I’m just worried about her.”

“I know you are.” Bran pulls me into him and wraps me into a hug. “I think she’ll be fine.”

“So why were you talking in Greek? What were you trying to hide?”

I try to pull away so I can look him in the face, but his embrace is tight. “Bran.” I grumble against his chest.

I don’t need a magical linking spell to tell me what Bran is thinking and feeling. “You’re pretending everything is fine, but you’re worried about Damien.”

He finally lets me go and heads to our bedroom.

“Talk to me.”

In the room, he goes to the bathroom and flicks on the light. Under-cabinet lighting glows against the stone floor. He turns on the tap and splashes cold water on his face.

“Bran.”

“If you must know, he was telling me that should something happen to him, I would find the necessary paperwork for the estate in his safe. And I was telling him that nothing would happen to him and if it did, I’d kill him twice.”

He hunches over the vanity and inhales deeply, water dripping from his nose.

“You love him a lot, don’t you?” It’s not really a question.

“He’s all I have left, Mouse.”

I go to him, placing my hand on his back. “This is all my fault.”

“No.” He narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t you dare say that.”

“But it is.”

“Mouse.”

“If it wasn’t for me?—”

He straightens. “This is Julian’s fault and the Renshaw witches, should they side with him. Not yours. Don’t even think that.”

The guilt is still there, though.

“Sometimes I wonder what would have happened to all of us if I’d just left Midnight.”

He puts his hands on either side of my face and forces me to look at him.

“Say that again and I will bind and gag you until you learn your lesson.”

Blood rushes to my cheeks at the thought of being bound and gagged by him.

He clucks his tongue at me. “I have to come up with better punishments, apparently.”

With everything that’s going on, I want a distraction.

My sister is getting one. Go sissy.

“Do it now,” I say, my voice going reedy. “Teach me a lesson.”

He presses closer, his hands dipping to my waist. “You should rest.”

“I will. After .”

His tongue runs over the sharp tip of his incisor as amber fire comes to his irises. “Don’t tempt me.”

I don’t just want a distraction. I need one. There’s no chance I’ll sleep now.

“Sometimes I wonder,” I say and then lick my lips, drawing out the temptation.

“Mouse.” His voice rumbles in the base of his throat.

“—what would have happened to all of us?—”

The brightness in his eyes grows.

“—if I’d just left Midnight.”

The air goes still.

I have approached the center of the storm and the hair rises along the nape of my neck.

My heart is thudding loudly in my head and heat is settling between my legs.

Without warning, Bran hooks his fingers into my panties, yanks them off, then shoves them into my mouth.

“You asked for it,” he says, and spins me around.