“He did what?” Just like that, the effect of Liz’s smile faded, and I was on my feet, pacing with the sexy, angry vampire. I needed to move, to give this energy an outlet, so it didn’t build inside me. That was probably why Cal paced too, but it was still far less distracting when I did it.
“Calm down and sit. I don’t care about what he thinks about me. As Brock said, he isn’t the first cop to be a dick.” Something was behind her words, but I couldn’t quite figure out what it was. A wave of anger tinged with something else, maybe acceptance. Her words felt like they hovered in the air for a moment; it was so odd. “Men like that have said worse to me to make themselves feel bigger. It doesn’t matter. I care more about that kid dying, the halfling elemental. I want to know who did it and why. Are we safe? Is Leif safe?”
Cal was still pacing circles around the table, chewing on his bottom lip, and typing away on his phone to get the details.
“Kid is right. He was sixteen. A halfling. Elemental and human. He was found downtown by the grocery store, beaten to death, then strung up as a message.”
“What was the message?” Liz gasped. “That psychopaths have moved in?”
I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. This wasn’t funny. But my god, I loved that this sweet girl had a biting wit.
“The message read ‘purest of blood only.’”
My heart started pounding in my ears. They killed a kid because he was a halfling. That was horrendous. Things like this used to happen all the time, usually by humans killing what they didn’t understand. They justified their actions by calling us monsters. That wasn’t supposed to happen here. It was supposed to be better here. We were supposed to be better.
“Do they know who did it?” the dragon asked.
“Not really, but most seem to think it’s the Temple,” Cal said, and I wondered who he was getting his information from. A friend in the coven? Pandora herself? Jealousy rose in my stomach, and I pushed it down. I didn’t understand how I could get off on the idea of Cal and Liz, but Cal and anyone else made me homicidal. I needed to focus. This was a problem.
“Why?” I asked instead of asking, ‘Who?’
“There was a representative from the Temple at the coven house the day before. They were preaching things about keeping bloodlines pure and separate. He had an entire presentation about community and coming together to keep their cities and towns safe from abominations. They’re planning some kind of mixer and wanted to invite the entire coven to some kind of meet and greet.”
“How did your coven respond?” I asked.
“They aren’t mine anymore. But there were a few more closed-minded vampires who liked the idea of returning to traditional values. Most didn’t initially show an interest, but even my contact had to admit they have a charm that’s hard to resist. They smooth-talked their way into making xenophobia sound appealing.”
“Shit,” Malik said. “This is the problem with small towns. All you need is one charming psychopath, and the whole place is a cult.”
“A cult?” Liz sounded skeptical. Good girl, always ask questions.
“I’ve seen it a few times, not the Temple, but the type. There is always one person at the center of everything, and they usually have some sob story about how they were the victims and were just trying to protect other people from what they had to go through. They use their trauma, real or imagined, to convince people to follow them. They manipulate the weak, gain power and influence, start having those who may speak out against them ostracized. Happens from political parties to groups of Ugg-wearing mean girls.”
“Mean girls’ groups?” Liz asked skeptically.
“Oh yeah, like in this small town in Arizona, it was brutal. Took keeping up with the Jones to a Stepford level.”
That made no sense, but whatever.
“What do we do?” I asked. “Is that cop going to be a problem?”
“I don’t think so,” Cal said. “I can take care of him, but that is one low-level cop. The Temple is growing fast here. I’m more worried about Leif. He’s a halfling, and the wolves have already showed they have no problem attacking a child.”
“They wouldn’t, they couldn’t; he is only—” Liz started shaking, and I pulled her into my arms, just needing to feel her and comfort her.
Cal stared at us for a moment, making some unreadable expression, and then nodded.
“The boy is going to have to learn to fight,” Malik said.
“What? No,” Liz tried to stand up, but I tightened my arms around her, not wanting to let her out of my arms. She gave up and leaned against me, and I felt a rush of magic, but not my magic. This was low level, almost like a whisper, but it was agitated and prickled against my skin.
Cal’s magic was potent, like a punch in the gut. Malik was a shifter, so his magic felt wild, raw. This was a softer, gentler touch of magic, almost like a soft breeze. It was so soft that if I weren’t a master of my element, an elemental with a rare gift, I wouldn’t have been able to feel it.
I was almost certain it was coming from Liz, but that was impossible. Humans didn’t have magic, not in the traditional sense. Sure, some were born with an instinct; those people were often more charismatic, or lucky, but they manipulated the surrounding magic. Liz had a signature all her own.
She was still talking with Malik as I pulled her body close to mine, leaning my chin on her shoulder and closing my eyes, trying to focus. With long, slow breaths, I let my magic reach out to feel hers. I wanted to feel more of her, see if I could understand where the magic was coming from and what kind it was.
It wasn’t wild like Malik’s and didn’t have the taste of raw power and influence, like Cal’s. It was different. I could tell it was based in nature like an elemental’s gift, but it didn’t feel like fire, water, wind or earth. Keeping my eyes closed, I took a deep cleaning breath and tried to focus on it. Her magic felt ancient, like the Fae’s, but not. It was untrained, untapped potential, but to do what I had no idea.