“We’ve got to be able to research it,” Rafe said. “And if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s research.”
“Why would someone want me to see this?” Waverly asked.
“I don’t know,” Viktor admitted, still shaken by the initials. “But this painting has to have been hidden for years. There is no way this was an accident, that an antique bloodletter was concealed within the painting.”
“I know you both thought I could identify its owner but I’m afraid that’s going to be difficult. The nun painted many paintings.” Greyson rubbed his beard. “I could ask my contacts at the Vatican. Maybe they know who it belonged to.”
“Who would own the painting and this tool?” she asked, her voice laced with tension.
“Anyone could have owned the painting. But the tool? Most likely a human.” Viktor suspected it belonged to a doctor. “Bloodletting is thousands of years old.”
“Dates back to ancient Greeks. While it’s generally accepted by medical doctors today that it doesn’t cure disease, there are a few places in the world that continue its practice,” Greyson offered.
“You’re a fountain of knowledge brother,” Viktor replied, his voice tense.
“That’s what I’m here for. And my charming personality.”
“My head hurts, and it’s only ten in the morning.” Waverly stretched her neck from side to side.
“Rafe. I want you to examine the blade for any other clues to its origin. It looks like brass, but it could be something else.”
“What if another vampire owns it?” she asked.
“Humans probably used this for bloodletting, but it could be used for simple torture. Vampires are well versed in torture,” Greyson said with a cool smile.
The look of shock registered on Waverly’s face, and Viktor quickly corrected his brother in a failed attempt to calm her. “He didn’t mean that’s going to happen. He meant…well, you know, vampires have to intervene in disagreements from time to time.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
Viktor turned to her, his voice serious. “I will never lie to you.”
“What if a vampire engaged in an activity where he didn’t want people to know they did it? To blame it on a human?” Rafe suggested.
“It happens.” Baxter’s evil laugh echoed in his mind. It was one of Viktor’s master’s favorite tricks. He’d taught them well to leave no trace. No matter where they traveled, victims suffered unspeakable violence. No one would ever identify a puncture wound. If they were to spend more than a week in the location, he’d take pleasure in setting up villagers, watching them be punished by other humans.
“Stop getting him wound up, wolf. Vik, it wasn’t him,” Greyson told him, shaking him from his thoughts.
“You’re right. The blade most likely belongs to a human.” Viktor refused to entertain the possibility Baxter lived. I saw him die, saw Quintus hurl him into the canyon. He’d never forget the day he gained his freedom.
“Is there anything else on the blade?” Greyson asked.
Viktor studied the lancet and turned it over to inspect it, his gut clenching as he caught sight of the symbol. “This.”
“It’s similar to the symbol that was in my house,” she exclaimed.
“Hold this, please.” Viktor handed her the blade and reached for his cell phone, sliding his fingers along its glass, searching for the pictures he’d taken. He set the phone onto the desk so the others could see it. “She’s right.”
“Someone targeted her.” Greyson plowed his fingers through his dark hair.
“Teagan got mixed up with some bad people. Is it Satanic?” she asked.
“It looks to me like some kind of spell maybe,” Viktor guessed. “But again. The whole vibe in your apartment screamed human to me.”
Rafe approached the desk and glanced at the picture. “Dude. That’s some fucked up shit.”
“Maybe a fae could help,” Greyson speculated. “Or Ilsbeth.”
“Hell no,” Viktor scoffed.
“A witch?” Waverly asked.
“The High Priestess, herself. Mommy,” Rafe declared with a bow. “That’s right, Waverly. My pa’s a vamp and my ma is a badass witch, who is occasionally helpful but is mostly evil.”
“I’d like to believe she’s in transition, so to speak. Hell has left her refreshed,” Viktor said.
“Refreshed?” Rafe laughed. “Dude. She was in Hell, not Beverly Hills.”
“It changes one’s perspective. She needed an attitude adjustment. Better than therapy.”
Greyson slammed his hand onto the armrest and gave a boisterous laugh. “You’re a crazy motherfucker, Vik.”
“This is my lineage.” Rafe shrugged and smiled at Waverly.
“How does a vampire and a, um, witch make a wolf?” she asked.
“Viktor saved me.” He wore a solemn expression.
“It’s nothing, really.” Viktor turned his attention back to the blade, uninterested in discussing the transformation.
“I almost died,” Rafe told her.
“Siring children is a tricky business, dear human.” Greyson stood and crossed the room, extending his hand toward his brother. “May I?”
“Of course.” Viktor placed the lancet in his palm, careful not to cut him.
“In death, there is a time when the magick of the human is still strong and the soul has not quite left this plane,” Greyson said. “We can exchange our blood, a sacrifice if you will, and the Goddess blesses the transformation. But when the magick wanes, and the human crosses over, there’s not much that can be done. It becomes too late.”
“Vampires can do many things. My brother and I can do more than most. But once death has truly set in, it can be difficult. Our blood alone isn’t enough to bring someone back, to rebirth them as vampire,” Viktor told her.
“But a high priestess, a really powerful witch. Their blood is rich with magick. And every now and then, when it’s combined with the vampire’s, it works. And just like that. Mazel tov! It’s a boy.” Greyson clapped.
Viktor’s expression darkened, refocused on the fleam. “It’s true that a witch may know the answers we seek. But, the fact of the matter is, both humans and vampires could be involved.”
“Never underestimate the evil that humans perpetuate. History has taught us that.” Greyson studied the object. “We need someone who understands the symbols. I’d love to see the saucy witch but alas, we didn’t end on good terms.”
“Tell me you didn’t play with the witch.” Viktor rolled his eyes.
“I played to win. Rolled the dice and snake eyes.”
“You play with fire, you get burnt,” Viktor told him.
“A little pain can be delicious.” Greyson winked at Waverly. “I’ve always fancied a bit of the kink.”
“My brother is both adventurous and reckless,” Viktor told her. “The witch is not to be trifled with.”
“She holds answers. She always does.”
“She suffered greatly in Hell. It wasn’t her first trip. As much as I think she’s transformed, I wouldn’t bet my life on it. I don’t know if she’s truly clean.”