Eternal Night

(II) Chapter 32: So You Want to Start a War

Frankie rubbed the bridge of her nose, taking a deep, calming breath to steady her rousing temper. It had been pretty much three weeks of the same thing since her return to Budapest – countless secret meetings with representatives from all the different peoples and rebel factions in the city, not to mention hours and hours of arguing and negotiating. She had had very little time to herself, save those few precious hours of daylight when she would rest – but even then, restorative sleep would evade her.

She had had nothing but dreams of Dracula for days now, the general lack of contact with him leaving her aching and frustrated. They were only in each other's company for maybe minutes at a time in the earlier parts of the night when everyone would meet up at Carmen's to go over the evening's assignments before splitting off. Even with Vlad's convincing speech in the car-ride over from France, Rémy still made it a point to keep the two separated.

It was torture.

She missed the regularity of their training sessions; his calm and steady presence, which she had grown so accustomed to during the summer. She longed for it now as she struggled to maintain an appearance of stoic indifference while Lyra and Damon argued with the three women seated on the other side of the table.

Maiden. Mother. Crone.

Frankie had never really cared for witches.

While she could admit now that much of her prejudice was owed to her past run-in with Mariella Bernardini the night she had been marked, this current encounter wasn't doing the disciples of the Goddess any favors.

It was moments like this when Frankie found herself missing her brother-in-law, Jacob. As both vampire and powerful magic wielder, he had always been the perfect mediator between the two races. She couldn't help but wonder what difference it would make to have him present in these proceedings.

Lyra was doing her best, but her past refusal to formally join any of the Budapest covens had had unforeseen consequences – like the distinct lack of trust they were dealing with now. And Damon, being the only male present, was doing his best to keep the peace, but with very little success.

Frankie had been skeptical when Carmen had recommended he tag along, but she was grateful now for the man's impeccable calm. Lyra's inherently short fuse was only getting shorter as the evening wore on.

"If you're not going to help us, the least you could do is cool it with the demonstrations. You're not helping anybody by flaying a palace sentinel alive in the town square," the redhead snapped, leaning over the table as if it helped to strengthen her argument. But the matron she was addressing – the mother of the trio – only continued to play with the dark ends of her braid, clearly bored.

"The brute threatened my sisters, and we Blood Thorns don't take kindly to threats – nor do we let them go unpunished," the witch answered pointedly.

"Not everyone that works in the palace is evil..."

"He worked for Augustine," the matron interrupted. "I don't care if he was just doing his job – the fool chose his side and thus the consequences. How else were we supposed to return Augustine's message?"

"Well, your message put a fucking target on your back, and on the backs of every other magic wielder in the city – Blood Thorn or not."

"The fool threatened us with massacre if we did not choose a side. I may detest your pesky alliance, but we will not be bullied into submission. Augustine has left our kind alone these long centuries – we don't interfere with his plans, whatever they may be, and he leaves us in peace. It was you whose impudence has placed the present target on our backs," and she flashed the still silent Frankie a damning look.