Page 29 of Blood Match
And I certainly do have secrets.
Just not about this.
The witch…
I push the thought from my mind as I stride from Arabella’s chambers, my footsteps echoing hollowly in the cavernous hallway. I can’t afford to dwell on her right now. I need to focus on containing the situation, gathering intelligence on Lucien’s operations.
And yet…I can’t quite shake the scent of nectar that seems to cling to me, a phantom reminder of her. The witch who should be nothing more than a complication, and yet somehow feels like the beginning of something far more dangerous.
As I step out into the courtyard, I tilt my head back, letting the cool air wash over me. For a fleeting moment, I almost feel at peace.
But I know it’s an illusion. Darkness is coming, a storm brewing on the horizon. And I have a sinking feeling that the witch with the emerald eyes is going to be at the very center of it.
9
Chapter 9
Rowan
Itake a deep breath as I enter the grand conservatory of High Priestess Seraphina Moonshadow, my gaze sweeping over the gathering of coven leaders. The mingling scents of exotic plants and the hum of ancient magic greet me. I can feel the power pulsing through the room. It’s more than a little intimidating. Particularly as I take in the serious faces of those in attendance – which is pretty much everyone. In addition to the High Priestess and all of the coven leaders, most of the high-ranking elders are here. There are also many lesser knowns, me among them. Although, I guess my family has a certain stature in the community.
Across the room, I see Heath Moonshadow lingering beside his mother, Astra. I pinch my lips together as my cheeks flush when he catches my eye. I’ve had a crush on Heath since high school, although I doubt he’s aware of it. Then again, maybe he knows and just isn’t interested; it’s not like he doesn’t have his pick of us. I think that at some point, every teenage witch in our region has had the hots for Heath Moonshadow with his raven-black hair and violet eyes. I fiddle awkwardly with my glasses as I look away.
“Gran!” I smile as I spot a familiar figure and immediately relax a little. My grandmother stands at the head of the circular table, touched by the soft, magical light. Her astute eyes scan the gathering, taking in the growing number of witches. As a past High Priestess of the Coven Conclave, she still commands respect and attention. She winks at me and indicates a chair not far from her own.
I take my seat, my heart in my throat. I’m trying to appear calm, but inside, I’m a mess.
There’s a vampire in my head.
Can anyone see it?
“Chin up, girl.” Poppy is on the backrest of the chair, just behind me. Her tiny claws dig into the fabric as she leans in close, her whiskers tickling my ear. I can practically feel the judgmental look she’s giving me. “You look like you’re about to swallow a toad. Where’s that Blackwood spirit?”
I roll my eyes, trying not to let her see how much her words sting. “Easy for you to say,” I mutter under my breath. “You’re not the one who went up against a horde of bloodsuckers.”
“Hmph! You need to toughen up. Be a bitch, witch.” Poppy’s tail swishes with emphasis, and I swear I can hear the smirk in her voice.
Bitch?
That couldn’t be further from my state of mind right now. And who can blame me? The attack on our sacred Starlight Vigil has left me shaken, both physically and mentally. Not only because of the violence of it. But the image of that tall, imposing vampire – the one I’ve been hearing in my mind – is seared into my memory. It’s wrong. I shouldn’t be thinking of him at all. Though I guess it’s hardly surprising.
A vampire. A freaking vampire!
As the other coven leaders file in and take their seats, Gran moves closer and sits down near me. Her presence, as always, is soothing, but I can’t help stealing glances at the others, wondering what might be going through their heads. Whatever happens here tonight, it’s going to be big. Conclave gatherings are normally restricted to elders. Tonight, most of our community is here.
The High Priestess moves to where Gran had been standing at the head of the table and clears her throat. The room falls silent. “Sisters…brothers…,” she begins, her voice calm and measured, “we have been through a great tragedy. The attack on Mia Blackwood’s Starlight Vigil was a brazen act of aggression, one that cannot be ignored.”
I feel a surge of anger at the mention of the attack. I want to jump to my feet and demand vengeance. Instead, I force myself to remain still, listening intently as Seraphina continues.
“We must determine the best course of action to protect our community and ensure that such an atrocity never occurs again,” she says, her gaze sweeping over the assembled witches. “The safety of our coven, our families, and our way of life is at stake.”
As the discussion unfolds, I find myself torn between the desire for justice and the need for caution. And it seems that I’m not the only one. Voices are rising as tempers flare. I jump when Morgan Shadowmaster slams his fist on the table, his eyes blazing with fury.
“This is unacceptable! We must strike back! Let them taste the full force of our magic!” His outburst sends a ripple of murmurs through the room, some nodding in agreement, others shifting uncomfortably in their seats.
Aurora Greenleaf rises slowly, her voice soft but firm. “Violence begets violence, brother. Perhaps we should extend an olive branch to the vampire elders, seek understanding before we risk igniting a war.” She spreads her hands, palms up, in a gesture of peace.
I dig my nails into my palms, my chest tight with conflicting emotions. The memory of the fight flashes through my mind – the screams, the chaos, the fear. My fingers twitch, itching to cast a spell to take out those bloodsuckers.