Queen of Nothing

7. Queen of Second Thoughts

The wait for nightfall was excruciating. I kept staring at my phone's clock, then out at the annoyingly sunny sky outside, wishing for time to pass quicker so I could talk to James. I was willing to bet Daphne had a spell for that and contemplated rushing right back to her mysterious, vanishing house and accepting her deal just for that.

Too antsy to do anything productive like shop or socialize, I paced from my bed to the balcony, contemplating my predicament. Smoking took the edge off of my frayed nerves, but after I noticed my pack was almost empty I figured I should probably stop.

Unable to talk to James, I turned to the internet, but it didn't tell me anything I hadn't already known from pop culture. As far as everyone was concerned, witches didn't exist.

The longer I waited the more tempting Daphne's offer became, and the less appeal I saw in vampirism. Screw hiding in the shadows, screw drinking blood. I could have immortality without any of the drawbacks! Although witchcraft probably had drawbacks of its own. Ones that Daphne conveniently refused to mention.

The biggest one was the obvious secrecy. I mean, her house literally disappeared unless she wanted you to find it. There had to be a reason for that, and I doubted it was because Daphne was some kind of reclusive hermit. I had the sinking feeling that reason had something to do with vampires, and it was another reason why I needed to talk to James immediately.

It was finally 5:00 PM, which would be 6:00 in Virginia. I called James and anxiously waited for him to pick up, hoping I wasn't interrupting something important. He picked up on the third ring.

"Hey, how's the Big Easy treating you, kitten?"

"Better than I hoped," I said, smiling. I missed the sound of his voice. "I'm not bothering you, am I?"

"Never," James laughed. "So are you making friends?"

"You could say that," I snorted. "The Sinclairs have me mixed up in their family drama."

"The newest generational pissing contest?" James asked.

I frowned. "You knew about that?" If he did, why hadn't he said anything before?

"Of course," James replied. "It's a tradition that predates Sheridan himself. He was just the one ambitious enough to become king." He paused. "So, what, are they helping you on your little quest?"

"Yeah," I said. "Alexis promised to help me get turned."

"Sounds like she has you on a snipe hunt," James replied.

"What do you mean?" I asked, brows furrowing.

James let out a nervous laugh before answering. "Sheridan doesn't give anyone the 'gift' until they've made a name for themselves. Established themselves in their careers and communities, done something to advance the agenda of the family. That sort of thing. If I recall, Alexis is only your age. There's no way she qualifies yet."

That... made entirely too much sense. I squeezed the phone tighter in my hand, suddenly furious at Alexis for withholding the truth from me. She made it sound like all she needed was Tristan out of the running, not that she needed to be some goddamn pillar of the community too.

"But she said Sheridan plans to turn his adoptive son when he turns twenty," I protested.

"Oh. That," James said, and I could almost hear him wince. "That's a special case."

"Of course," I replied bitterly.

"Sabine, whatever Alexis has you doing for her is not worth it. Drop it, and be more careful about who you trust," he replied.