“Maeve is powerful too,” I say, and Amelia nods at Alaric's doubtful look. “Plus, Maeve and Tobias have a connection; a supernatural one a little like a witch bond.”
Alaric pulls on his bottom lip. “But he’s a vamp. Hell, there’s a lot we don’t know about you guys. I bloody hope Tobias is on our side.”
“He is,” says Ash emphatically.
Alaric stands again and his dark mood lifts slightly. “Fine. We'll help Tobias too. I've spoken to Izzy; I’ll also ask her to see if she can contact Anton. She's freaked out about him and wants us to make our move tonight. I wanted to wait, but now you've appeared, we don't have that luxury. The less time you're here, the less likely people will notice you.”
"There's not long until dawn," says Andrei.
"Stay here," says Alaric.
"No fucking way, mate."
He scoffs. "You want to risk seeing the dawn, mate."
"Yes, mate."
"You won't change his mind," I say as the tension thickens.
Alaric shakes his head. "Fine. The three of you get your shit together and we leave."
"Uh. And me," says Amelia.
"I'm not dealing with Matt's level of pissed off if he finds I've put you in danger again," retorts Alaric. "You promised the guy you wouldn't go into the field without him."
Amelia's brow tugs down. "But this is Maeve and Tobias."
"I don't think Matt would like you to be 'collateral damage'," I say and side-eye Alaric.
"Stay here with Saul.” She scowls at him. “Please."
I'd press her to stay too, but if we all hassle Amelia, she's more likely to protest.
"Fine. But promise me you'll help Tobias too. He's helped us a lot," she says.
"Hmm. I hope so. I've no qualms about taking out the murderous bastard." His grey eyes turn to stone.
"That's in the past," says Andrei coldly.
He shakes his head as if Andrei is a simpleton. "Blackwood magic can corrupt anybody. All that's needed is a tiny speck of darkness in someone's soul, and that guy has a shitload. Be prepared for him to be a different man when he returns."
And Maeve? The girl who holds nothing but love and care for people.
Ash and Andrei's expressions reflect my thoughts: will she be different?
Chapter Seventeen
MAEVE
I sit in the corner of the room they keep me in, with my head in my hands. My head splits with pain across the scalp and behind my eyes. But the pain is nothing compared to sick confusion over what I saw when Gabriella assaulted me. Was that a ploy to weaken me? Jumble up my mind until I don't know what's a vision and what's a nightmare? Andrei wouldn't hurt me. Nor Tobias.
But can I say that with one hundred percent confidence?
I clench my jaw, fuelling with anger to protect myself in case this type of assault happens again. I can’t lose my grip—the barrier I need isn’t only mental but emotional too.
Resting my cheek on my leg, I hug my knees to my chest and listen for footsteps. I showered and wiped away the blood from Gabriella's mental injuries, washing away the tears I shed when I first walked back into the room. The shaking takes longer to subside.
Before Mhairi arrived to take me back to my room, Gabriella smiled and told me she looked forward to more time with me this evening.
I can't stay here any longer.
Gripping the window frame, I pull myself up and look down at the night shadows covering the lawns behind. Is there a place I could break through if by some miracle I reached them? There’s no visible fence between the grounds and the woods that border the estate, but magic barriers aren’t always visible.
I turn away. Why torture myself? I need to trust that everything will work out. Somehow.
A gentle rap on the door startles me and I jump to alert. Mhairi’s face appears as she gently pushes the door open.
“Maeve?”
My unofficial watcher. “Hello, Mhairi.”
She sidles through the door, a hesitant smile on her pink-cheeked face with something draped over her arms. She lifts the item and shakes it out. A dress.
Another one.
No.
I’m back in my jeans and T-shirt after stripping off the dress I wore earlier. The Blackwoods can’t dress me up and play with me as if I’m a doll.
But they are playing with me.
Mhairi holds the dress up high and the sapphire blue material touches the floor.
“Am I going to a funeral?” I ask. “Hopefully not mine.”
She smiles at my sarcasm.
“The Blackwoods always have a small party when Gabriella visits.”
I bet.
“What type of party?”
Mhairi averts her eyes and my scalp prickles. Pulling on a nonchalant air, I walk over and take the dress from her.
The silken material slides cool against my skin
“I’ll be back in ten minutes.” She backs away. “I suggest you change.” She hands me a brush and I stare as if she’s passing me a hand grenade.
Thank god Mhairi hasn’t brought curling tongs and a tote filled with make-up.
She sneaks away and I drop the dress on the bed, scowling at it. Who chose this? It’d better not be creepy Nikolai, because if he touches me, I’ll blast him into unconsciousness.
If I weren't filled with a fear that trickles through every vein in my body, I'd be curious about what a party held by a witch for a vampire would look like. My palms sweat as I walk along the hallway towards a new room, and I wipe them on my dress.
Maeve, dressed up like a Vampire Party Barbie. I hate the way the dress skims my hips and accentuates my ass as the material drops to the floor. The barely-there straps hold up the low-cut bodice, and however hard I yank at them, too much flesh is on display. The worst part is the back—or lack of. A string of diamonds run from the neck to the small of my back, which is bare as if the dress had been slashed in two.
No. I'm not Vampire Party Barbie—I'm Vampire Snack Barbie.
We approach the door and I wonder if this is the right one, as there's no music. But there are voices and two men dressed in black suits standing either side of the double doors. They're not the burly bodyguards I would expect, but their manner adds to my fear—as dark as Anastasia and Gabriella. Both are tall with the familiar vampire bone structure and allure, but the one with shorter dark hair on the left has a cruel twist to his mouth as he regards me. The second focuses ahead, not dropping his sentry duties for a moment.
The cruel-mouthed man takes the ornate gold handles and pushes the doors open. I'm guided past him, cringing as my bare arm almost touches his suit sleeve.
My feet sink into the thick white carpet as I'm greeted with the sight of vampires and witches in a richly decorated room. A bronze chandelier dripping with glass hangs above where some guests are draped across sumptuous sofas in expensive dress, while others stand chatting beside the black-and-white-flocked wallpaper, all with wine glasses in hands.
The auras around these people combine, shutting out their thoughts and filling the room with pitch black to match the night outside. Hairs lift on my arms as the dread takes hold.