Page 32 of Blood Match
Everything we’ve just discussed, all of our plans, have just been exposed to the enemy. And if he heard this, what else has he heard? About Mia’s vigil? Is that why they attacked us? The vampires knew we’d be out there, even though the details weren’t public. They knew where, and they knew when.
And it’s all my fault.
10
Chapter 10
Darick
The flickering candlelight casts a warm glow over the dark mahogany bookshelves lining the walls of my study. Shadows dance across the ornate furniture, lending an air of mystery to the space. My eyes scan the familiar shelves of books, their worn spines and leather binding. I love being in this room.
Yet, despite the comforting familiarity, a sense of unease has taken root in me. The events of the past few days are bothering me.
I lower myself into the high-backed chair behind my desk. With a heavy sigh, I allow my gaze to drift to the window, where the pale moonlight filters through the panes.
The same moon that looked down on that sacred grove just two days ago. It was full then. It’s beginning to wane now.
Lucien’s attack on the witches’ gathering worries me.
“Fucking fool!” I mutter; the words seem loud in the silence of the room. I can’t believe the fucker could take such a risk. But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s never been a man of honor. The fact that he discussed his intentions before the entire Assembly shows that he’s already made up his mind about this. I need to get to the bottom of it.
But what worries me just as much is this freakish connection I have…with a witch. One who was present at the very gathering Lucien chose to attack.
I rub my eyes with one hand, trying to make sense of the bizarre situation.
How the fuck could this happen?
With a growl, I push myself up from the chair and begin to prowl about the room. I cannot afford to be distracted by this…this complication. Not when Lucien’s ambitions pose such a threat, and I must remain vigilant, focused.
But I can’t help myself. It’s like having a splinter beneath my skin. I find myself constantly drawn to the faint whispers of her thoughts, the fleeting impressions of her emotions. It is both maddening and…intriguing.
Spinning on my heel, I heave an exasperated breath as I pace in the opposite direction. I must find a way to sever this connection, to push the witch out of my mind. I stop my pacing and head back to my desk. As I settle into my chair once more, a faint whisper suddenly brushes against the edges of my consciousness.
At first, it’s nothing more than a distant murmur, indistinct and fleeting. But then, slowly, the voice grows clearer, more defined. I can hear the cadence, the inflection – it’s unmistakably her.
“Yeah, Kara, you go, girl!”
I freeze, every muscle tensing as I start to make out words.
Fuck. Not again.
My jaw clenches as irritation flares within me. Of all the times she’d intrude again, why now, when I’m thinking of a way to get rid of her?
But no, here she is, her thoughts seeping into my mind once more. I grit my teeth, willing myself to ignore the intrusion.
Damn it all to hell!
I need to find a way to cut this goddamned connection, to block her out completely. The last thing I need is for my judgment to be clouded by her incessant chatter.
“One day, they’ll look at me that way. I’ll make it happen!”
As I move, I catch glimpses of her thoughts – fragments of memory, flashes of emotion. I see the image of a woman, older but radiating a quiet strength; it’s the woman from the grove, the one who wielded such formidable magic.
I shake my head, trying to shove the images away. I can’t get drawn in, to become invested in her life and her troubles. I focus hard on shutting out the sound.
As the minutes tick by, I can feel the connection beginning to waver, the whispers of her thoughts growing fainter.
Good. I will not be tied to this…this witch, goddammit.