Jennifer’s eyes slit as she inserted herself into the conversation. “We should have killed your friends rather than curse them, but we thought to use them to control you. Now I see the flaw in our logic. One of your people is a Drainer, and Drainers must be eliminated as quickly as possible. One of your people is a wolf, and wolves protect our greatest enemies. One of your people is a vampire, and vampires are our greatest enemies. All three deserve to die.”
“How many times do I have to say it? I don’t know any Drainer. I don’t even know what a Drainer is, unless you mean a vampire drinking until every drop is gone, but that didn’t happen, so again. No Drainer.” He wanted to kick his own ass for not asking Victoria for details. “And the wolf and the vampire mean you no harm, then or now. Tell them, Jennifer. You weren’t forced to feed anyone.”
“Enough,” Marie snapped. “So they didn’t drink from her. This time. We are still drugs to them, and addicts can never be trusted. Now. Silence, human. Sisters, let us move him to a more…private location.”
A second later, their chants filled the air. He tried to reason with them; they ignored him. And then it didn’t matter. His world began to spin, dancing to a beat he didn’t recognize. Spinning, spinning, colors whirling together, darkening, that dark consuming him, blinding him, tossing him around as if he were stuck in a washing machine. The souls were shouting, and those continued shouts were deafening.
Then, suddenly, he stilled. The souls quieted.
Pinpricks of white grew among the black, and colors soon followed. His feet were still rooted in place, but he was now in new surroundings. He was inside a…cave? The walls around him were comprised of dirt, orange-colored stones and clay. Somewhere nearby was a waterfall. He could hear the urgent rush and crash of water, the air cold and damp.
The witches, still circling him, dropped their arms to their sides and perched atop boulders. All but one, that is. Marie approached him, a perfumed cloud accompanying her. Caleb purred his approval.
Without a word, Marie claimed his hands and raised them above his head. Aden wanted to grab his daggers. He didn’t. He needed their cooperation, not their fury. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Taking precautions.”
As she spoke, something cool and soft wrapped around his wrists. Frowning, he looked up. Ivy had sprouted from the cave’s ceiling, descended and bound him. His molars gnashed together as he tried to jerk free. The vine held steady.
“We draw our powers from Mother Earth,” she explained. “You’re lucky you’re warded, otherwise we’d do a lot worse to you.” She laughed when his expression tightened. “Oh, yes. I know without looking what you’re protected against. We all do. We can feel the power of the wards.” She backed away and sat on a boulder like the others.
“So what do you plan to do with me?”
“Your actions will determine that.”
“Come on. Help me out here. What actions? What do you want from me?” Aden’s gaze roved over them, stopping only when one of them—the only one left standing, the only one wearing a black robe—walked from a shadowed corner and pushed away her hood. Another blonde, though this one wasn’t a witch.
Her face was beauty personified. Her skin glowed as if it had been dipped in a honey pot, and her eyes gleamed like liquid ebony. With only a look, she lured, entranced, made him ache to do whatever she wanted. Not that he’d succumb.
“Hello, Aden,” Ms. Brendal said smoothly.
He hadn’t noticed her in the circle before. Which meant she had been waiting here. Waiting to pounce. “Dr. Hennessy,” he said, his jaw so clenched the words barely escaped. “I’d like to say I’m surprised, but I’d rather not lie. I know how you hate it.”
Her pupils flared briefly. “So you knew I was not who I pretended to be. How?”
“Why don’t you invade my head again and find out?”
She traced her tongue over her straight, white teeth. “I looked through your mind, yes, but all I encountered was a sea of noise. Voices and more voices, one stacked upon the other, talking about the silliest things. Things I cared nothing about. But I could find no evidence of my brother, Mr. Thomas. Where is he, Aden? I know that you know.”
Now’s your chance, Elijah said. Bargain.
Wait. What? Bargain with what? Caleb demanded.
Aden knew. “Convince the witches to call a meeting to order,” he said, “and I’ll tell you.”
Brendal eyed each of the witches. Each of them shook her head no.
“Aden,” she said, her voice no longer smooth. “You will not fare well if I’m angered.”
He shrugged as best he could with his arms in the air. “Why? You’ll morph into a giant green monster?”
Breath hissed between her lips. “I figured you would prove stubborn. However, you have underestimated me. I’m leaving, but don’t shed too many tears, for I will return. With your friends.”
A clear threat. He wanted to shout at her. He wanted to fight his bonds. He did neither. Displays of emotion in any battle meant defeat. Isn’t that what he’d taught Mary Ann? And in this battle, the most important of his life, he needed any edge he could get. If he threw a fit now, he would lose what little bargaining power he had.
“Have you anything else to say to me?” Brendal asked.
“Yeah. Good luck with your search.”
“Very well.” She stepped backward, her narrowed gaze locked on him, and disappeared from view, there one moment, gone the next.
She’d entered that other plane, he supposed. To capture—perhaps torture—his friends. They can take care of themselves, he assured himself.
Let me take over, Caleb pleaded. Let me talk to the witches for you.
Oh, no. Aden could allow the souls to assume control of his body. They couldn’t do it without his permission, and he’d once given permission to Eve. That’s how she’d spent the last day of her “life” with her daughter. But Caleb was too concerned with the witches. He might place their welfare about Victoria’s, above Mary Ann’s and Riley’s, and that Aden couldn’t allow.
“Call the meeting to order,” he said, ignoring the soul, “and I’ll answer anything you want. Don’t, and I’ll answer nothing.”
Aden, please, Caleb persisted.
“I’m sorry.” And he was. He hated for Caleb to want something this much and not get it. He hated for Caleb to beg.
Focus, Aden, Julian said.
Yes. He blinked, blanking his mind. The witches had removed their hoods, and each was watching him curiously.
“You have souls trapped inside your head,” Marie said.
“Yes, I have souls inside my head.” He’d already admitted as much. Denying it now would serve no purpose.
“And once, you asked me if I’d ever known a man who could possess other bodies. Someone who died sixteen years ago. Is he, this body-possessor, one of the souls?”
Aden! Tell her! She might have known me. She could tell me about my past.
Guilt washed through him. He ignored it. He had to stay on course. “Call this meeting to order, and I’ll tell you.”
She grinned without humor. “I don’t wish to know that badly.”
Wh-what? Caleb sputtered with his affront.
“I’m willing to bet we can extract the souls and give them bodies of their own.” Marie tapped a fingertip to her chin. “That way, he can answer all our questions himself.”
Aden tried to hide his alarm. “And where would you get these bodies?”
“People die all the time. If you reanimate a fresh corpse with a new soul…”
“How? It was the body that died, not the soul. The soul simply moved on.” That he knew. “Reanimating a body isn’t the same as healing a body.” Right? “Which means a new soul won’t be able to make a lifeless corpse work.”
“Magic can do many things,” was all she said.
Yes, Caleb rushed out. Yes. Let her try.
No, Elijah and Julian said in unison.
It wouldn’t be that easy, Elijah added. It never is. There will be a catch, I promise you.
Caleb growled his frustration.
“If you can sense my wards,” Aden said, “you know my mind cannot be manipulated. Therefore, the souls’ minds cannot be manipulated.” Could they?
One of her brows arched, making her the picture of superiority. “I don’t need your cooperation. Just his.”
She was bluffing. She had to be bluffing.
Uncomfortable, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Blood had already rushed out of his arms, and now his hands were cold, his shoulders tingling. “If you can do such a thing, why haven’t you? Why are you just sitting there?”
The brow fell back into place, creating a smooth line. “We have more important things to do at the moment.”
Yep. She’d been bluffing.
“Your résumé is growing,” she said suddenly, as if they were seated across from each other at a job interview.
He’d play along. “What do you mean?”
“First vampire king, now beast slayer.”
How had she heard about that? “I didn’t slay them.”
“Tamer, then. Beast tamer.” The very nickname Caleb had suggested. “How did you do that?”
So she could defeat them herself? “Call this meeting to order and I’ll tell you.” His answer would be, “I don’t know,” because that was the truth, but she didn’t need to know that yet.
“You want to save your friends?” Jennifer piped in. “Fine. Renounce your claim to the vampire throne, and give us a blood vow that you’ll remain with us, serving and aiding us.”
Do it, Caleb said.
No, Elijah and Julian repeated in unison.
“Sorry.” Serving and aiding them would require hurting the vampires; he knew it with every fiber of his being. Otherwise, he would have said yes without hesitation.