NATHANIEL
I was ashamed. So ashamed. I'd lost control and hurt her. Now I feared there would be no going back from this.
It wasn't even out of the ordinary for me. I'd had human lovers before and I'd tasted their blood in the throes of passion. But they either didn't mind or didn't matter. Avery was neither.
I'd allowed myself to be careless and paid a great price for it. I'll never forget the frightened way Avery looked at me afterwards, like I truly was a monster. When she left to see the doctor, I'd left also, unable to bear seeing that face again. I was thankful that fate had intervened and sent her away to Lydia Bell's for a few days. I was not ready to face her yet.
I'd left her a note of apology and a promise that it'd never happen again. I vowed to myself that I'd always feed before going to bed with her, to prevent my ravenous hunger from claiming her blood another time. It seemed too simple, really.
Except there was a part of me, a large part, that did want it to happen again. The part that enjoyed the rich taste of her blood on my tongue. The part that would happily tear into her in the pursuit of more.
If only there was a compromise. Perhaps Avery could be persuaded to give her blood willingly. I'd always found that sharing blood made for a richer and more intimate sexual experience. But how to convince Avery of that, when her first exposure to the act had been violent and cruel?
If she'd simply allowed me to turn her we wouldn't be having this problem. And yet...
Her reluctance was more than understandable. I don't doubt I'd have grappled with the choice myself had I actually been given a choice.
Everything was just fraught. I had this futile hope that in spite of the chaos of my job, at least my personal life was on the right track. Alas, that too was headed straight towards hell.
Would this one incident be enough to drive us apart for good? What if, during our time apart she decided that being with me wasn't worth it? That she'd rather avoid the danger and leave me to live a normal human life? Isn't that how I'd lost her the first time?
No, that couldn't happen. I had to have faith that it wouldn't. She loved me. She'd allowed me back into her life after we promised to part ways, and that was all the proof I needed. We'd overcome this hurdle. After she had time to settle, I'd call her and we'd talk about it. For now, she needed space. We both did.
With Avery gone, I sequestered myself in my office and devoted myself fully to my work. I'd given serious thought to Balthazar's proposal and busied myself with penning a letter to the witch.
She was a hard one to contact without risking annihilation. According to Sabine Ambrose, she lived in a vanishing house that was inaccessible to postal carriers. She had a phone number that Sabine had access to, but I refrained from having her risk her life by using it. I doubted it would've worked regardless.
So Sabine told me of a way to contact the witch via handwritten notes. It required magic, naturally, so I'd need to ask a local coven for a favor. Not the most enticing idea, but my other option was to send someone to New Orleans and stick the letter on a telephone pole and hope she found it.
The words struggled to come at first. How did one seek the help of one's enemy?
Dear Miss Sinclair,
You murdered one of my colleagues and I very much hold it against you, but I'd like to ask you a favor. You see, your existence is very inconvenient to me so would you please remove yourself from the mortal plane so my life and reign can continue unburdened by your actions? Thanks!
Sincerely,
His Royal Majesty Nathaniel Alexander Bryce, King of the Northeastern Territories
It took several days and some hard drinking, but I finally managed something of decency. I'd even managed to track down a coven who could deliver it. Whether they'd be willing to do so was another matter entirely. That was why I brought Sabine Ambrose along, plus a fat check in case she failed to convince them.
The Sisters of Hecate were a traditional coven with a long history. They were a peaceful group who only practiced magic to enrich their lives. Their leader, Evelyne Brandon, resided in a suburb in Queens, New York, which was where Sabine and I were now.
I wasn't sure how to act around the girl now. She'd taken the news of the competition disbanding pretty hard. Though she seemed to be well past it now, one could never be too careful.
"Why do witches' houses always look so normal?" Sabine said as we stood on the sidewalk in front of Mrs. Brandon's ordinary white rowhouse.
I glanced between her and the building. "Why shouldn't they?"
She shrugged. "I feel like the nicer it looks, the more freaky shit they tend to be hiding."
Well, that would certainly put a damper on the evening. "Are you speaking from experience?"
"My experience is limited to one, but yes."
"Well, let's hope you're wrong in this case. I'd rather not be sacrificed to the coven's matron goddess tonight," I said, then walked up the path to the front door.
"I'm not sure vampires can be used as a viable sacrifice, what with you being undead and all," Sabine replied from behind me.
I paused with my knuckles an inch away from the door, blinking. The fact that Sabine spoke about the logistics of human sacrifice so flippantly was ten kinds of alarming. "Good to know," I said flatly.
I could've sent someone else on this mission. Melanie had even volunteered, as usual. But I wanted to come myself, to ensure that everything went properly. I'd dressed down for the occasion in order to protect my identity, and planned to pose as an aide to the king. Sabine seemed to like that part of the plan the most.
I knocked on the door. A moment later, an ordinary-looking middle-aged woman answered.
"Good evening, Mrs. Brandon," I said. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important, because I was hoping I could get a moment of your time."
Mrs. Brandon eyed me suspiciously. "Who are you?"
I fished a business card out of my pocket and handed it to her. "My name is Alexander Clark. I work for His Majesty King Nathaniel, and I'd like to request your services on his behalf." Alexander Clark was an alias I used often. It was what the townspeople from around the palace knew me as.
The woman scoffed and handed the business card back. Her gaze darted between myself and Sabine, who'd just joined me. "What services would those be?"
"There's no need for pretense," I said. "I know you lead the Sisters of Hecate, as does my associate, Miss Ambrose."
The woman paled. "You're mistaken. Our coven doesn't practice actual magic. It's all symbolic."
Before I could argue that I had proof, Sabine cut in. "I'm a former witch. I'd have done this myself if I still had my power, but I don't, so we need your help."
Mrs. Brandon narrowed her skeptical eyes at Sabine, but she opened the door a crack further. "Hold out your hand." Sabine did so and the woman clasped her palm in a strange imitation of a handshake. She closed her eyes. Sabine glanced up at me and shrugged. Mrs. Brandon winced and let Sabine's hand go. "Come inside."
What had the woman sensed? Regardless, I was glad I had the foresight to bring Sabine along. We followed Mrs. Brandon into her narrow, dimly-lit house. She was a childless widow who lived with two cats. One of those cats was perched on the second-floor banister and hissed at me as I passed underneath.
Mrs. Brandon led us into the living room and turned on a table lamp, gesturing for us to sit on a tacky floral couch. Sabine and I obeyed, sitting rather conspicuously at opposite ends. Mrs. Brandon went to occupy a mismatched armchair across from us.
Mrs. Brandon studied Sabine for a long moment before speaking. "How'd you lose your magic, girl?"
Sabine bristled. "It was taken by my mentor when I... displeased her."
"That's a powerful spell," Mrs. Brandon mused, narrowing her eyes.
"She's a powerful witch," Sabine replied solemnly. Truly, the woman didn't know the half of it, and I wondered how she'd react when she found out.
"So you need me to perform a spell," Mrs. Brandon said.
"A simple one, really. Just a message," Sabine explained before I could get a word in.
"A message," the witch repeated. "I take it this person can't be reached by conventional means?"
We both nodded. Inconvenience aside, the symbolism of a message sent via magic was arguably a more effective way to get my point across. I hoped that by showing the effort I'd gone through to contact my target, she'd take my request more seriously.
"Mrs. Brandon, before we go into more detail, I'd like to ask what you've heard about the goings on in the South," I said.
The witch stilled. Recognition dawned on her face. "You want me to contact the Sinclair woman."
I nodded. "Will that be a problem?"
"Problem?" Mrs. Brandon spat. "Do you have any idea what she'd done? Even before she killed the king, she was a menace. It was because of her blood sacrifices that Sheridan Sinclair decimated every Southern witch coven. One of my Sisters had a predecessor who perished in one of his hunts."
I didn't know how to respond to that. Luckily, Sabine came to my rescue. "We're aware of that, Mrs. Brandon. I know exactly what kind of danger she poses to everyone. But trust me when I say this is extremely important."
Mrs. Brandon leaned back in her chair, still scowling. "What exactly does your king intend to do with her?"
I took notice of the way she said 'your king,' as if I didn't rule over the very territory she resided in. Did all witches feel so removed from the rest of society?
"His Majesty simply wants to come to a peaceful agreement, if possible. The message is a request to meet on neutral ground and discuss terms," I said.
"Peaceful agreement," Mrs. Brandon scoffed.
I shrugged. "It's either that or war. Which one would you say will have the better outcome?"
Mrs. Brandon sighed. "Do you have the message with you?"
I nodded and pulled out the folded piece of paper out of my jacket pocket, then handed it to her. She opened it up and began to read. There was hesitation written plainly on her face and it made me tense. I suppose that was a given. My request was highly unusual, after all.
"The spell won't work for someone I've never met," Mrs. Brandon said to me. "And I hope you're not suggesting I meet her."
"I've met her," Sabine said. Mrs. Brandon balked, to which Sabine simply gave a shrug. "She was my mentor. Could that help you?"
The witch's eyes were wide. "Good god, girl! How are you still alive?"
Sabine swayed in her seat, clearly not wanting to answer. "Will it help you or not?"
Mrs. Brandon let out another weary sigh. "I could draw on your memories." She leveled a flustered look towards me. "But you're treading on dangerous territory."
"We're aware, Mrs. Brandon. Trust me, I wouldn't have come all this way if it wasn't important."
The witch finally relented and prepared to perform the spell. I sat back and watched with rapt fascination as she placed the letter on the table and disappeared to retrieve a fat black candle, lighting it by merely swishing her hand over the wick. She sat cross-legged on the floor and gestured for Sabine to join her. She held her wrinkled arms out over the coffee table and Sabine clasped her hands, creating a circle around the candle. I half expected them to start chanting in Latin or some other dead language.
The letter suddenly began to float. It drifted up to hover above the candle flame. Sabine and Mrs. Brandon continued to sit with their eyes shut, deep in concentration. Suddenly, the letter plummeted towards the flame, which consumed it instantly. Mrs. Brandon let Sabine's hands go and the two of them fell back, breathing hard.
The witch stood and let out a sharp exhale. "It's done."
"In what fashion should I expect her to reply?" I asked.
She shrugged. "Whichever way she wants."
That wasn't particularly satisfying, but I nodded anyway. "Thank you very much for your services." I pulled my wallet out of my pocket and grabbed the $10,000 check from within. I'd originally brought it in case Mrs. Brandon needed more cajoling, but I felt the need to give it to her anyway, as a courtesy. "Please accept this token of gratitude from His Majesty."
Mrs. Brandon took the check and her eyebrows shot up in surprise when she saw the number. "The king was willing to pay that much for a simple spell like that?"
"No expense could be spared for peace in the territories," I replied.
Mrs. Brandon pocketed the check. "I hope it works out for him."
I heard Sabine tap her foot impatiently and sighed. Lingering would not be wise and I didn't want to overstay our welcome, but there was one more thing I needed. I fished my car keys out of my pocket and tossed them over to Sabine, who nearly dropped them from being caught off guard.
"Why don't you go wait in the car? I have one more thing I need to ask Mrs. Brandon," I said.
Sabine looked uncertainly at me, then shrugged and headed towards the door. She stopped to pet the cat, which had moved from the banister to the foot of the stairs since our arrival. The fickle animal didn't hiss, but raised its chin in contentment.
Once Sabine was out the door, I turned back to Mrs. Brandon. She regarded me with caution, her eyes constantly flicking towards the nearest door. It was clear she didn't trust me to be alone with her, $10,000 check notwithstanding.
"I'd like to ask for your expertise on a more personal matter," I said.
Her worried expression softened a fraction. "All right."
I grimaced, not knowing how to start. I imagined this was what it must be like to consult a doctor about erectile dysfunction. "Do you know of a way to suppress a vampire's hunger?"
Mrs. Brandon's eyebrows rose. "No, I can't say I do."
I winced. "Would it be too much trouble to ask you to look into it?"
"I could," she replied. "But I'm curious as to why. I thought there was enough blood to go around."
"I'd rather not say." The last thing I wanted to do was explain that I'd bitten my unwilling girlfriend in the heat of passion.
Mrs. Brandon narrowed her eyes knowingly. I tried my best to appear composed. I was afraid the witch was able to read my mind, or perhaps my problem was just that obvious. I chalked it up to paranoia.
"Give me a way to contact you and I'll let you know if I find anything," Mrs. Brandon said.
I sighed with relief. I pulled out the business card that he'd 'Alexander Clark's' phone number and email, both of which were routed to me. "Thank you again for your help."
"Of course," Mrs. Brandon replied. "The Sinclair woman has put my coven on edge. We were worried we'd be hunted down like the Southern witches were for what she'd done. I'm glad to know that King Nathaniel is more sensible than that."
I couldn't help but feel a little offended that they'd think so little of me, but said nothing. I bid her goodbye and went back to the car, where Sabine waited dutifully in the passenger seat.
"What was that about?" she asked when I got inside.
"That is highly sensitive info, as I'm sure you could have guessed by the fact that you weren't privy to it," I said, sounding a touch too defensive.
Sabine crossed her arms and scoffed. "I was just curious. No need to get snippy about it."
"You would accuse your king of being snippy?"
"So you're back to being king now?"
"Naturally."
She snorted. "All right then, Your Majesty."
It was insolent, but I figured I'd cut her a little slack. After what she'd been through I couldn't blame her for being careless about protocol. And I had to admit, I liked this new version of Sabine a hell of a lot better than the one I'd come to know during the competition.
"Sabine," I began, figuring I'd clear the air on that topic while I had the opportunity, "I'd like to personally apologize for the outcome of the competition." Her only response was a huff of annoyance. I pressed on. "I hope you're in a better place emotionally, because I got the feeling you weren't back then."
Her wary expression faltered for a moment. Then she exhaled deeply and gave a tired shrug. "I won't be happy until this is all over."
I nodded, sharing her sentiments exactly. Curse this blasted war. At least now I seemed to be a step closer to its resolution. Soon, Avery would be back in my arms and... And we'd have to somehow excise the specter of that fateful night from our minds. I hoped Mrs. Brandon found what I needed and quickly.
"Why are you suddenly trying to bond with me?" Sabine asked. I could hear the unspoken judgment in her tone. Why now, and not when she actually wanted me to? My interest reeked of pity, like I only cared about her because she's been through hell. Or worse, because she'd finally become useful to me.
"I didn't mean to appear disingenuous," I replied.
Sabine scratched her forehead. "Sorry, it's just... I'm trying to help get this over with as best I can. But what I really want is to get away from reminders of my old life. Being back in the palace makes me feel trapped. I can barely stand it."
She was trapped. I wouldn't give her false reassurances about that. "Makes you want to go back and change fate, doesn't it?" I said instead.
She furrowed her brows and gazed off into space. "Not really. As weird as it is, I feel like everything worked out the way it was supposed to, even the bad things."
I couldn't disagree more. In fact, I wished I could rewind time to stop Sabine from going to New Orleans because that girl's arrival in the city was what set off the catastrophic chain of events that ended in Sheridan's death. It was almost comical. If the competition ended with me choosing her, this all could have been avoided.
All it would take was never seeing Avery again.
I let out a bitter, hopeless laugh. "I see what you mean."
Happy New Year! I hope all your wishes for 2018 come through.