Page 41 of Witch Untold
Mircea pulls back from feeding, draws a napkin from his pocket, and dabs at the corners of his mouth, leaving crimson smears on the delicate fabric.
Conah hawks and spits in his face. Mircea freezes, and something ancient, evil, and destructive fills his eyes. In that moment there is no doubt in my mind that he’s preparing to rip out the reaper’s throat.
Conah is about to die.
I’m convinced.
But then the vampire steps away, carefully wiping the spittle from his cheek before turning to the door, dismissing Conah as insignificant.
Damn, he’s good.
The eye hatch is open and Dimitri’s spectacled eyes peer in. “They’re on the move, Master,” he says.
“Radu!” Mircea snaps.
Radu peels himself reluctantly off Elijah and licks his lips. His eyes roll in his head. He looks intoxicated. “Fuck.”
“And there’s more,” Dimitri says with glee. “She’shere. The anchor is here, in the town. I saw her through the eye.”
What? No.
“Then we have all we need,” Mircea says. He places a hand on his brother’s shoulder, and they both turn to smoke and slip under the door.
This can’t be happening. Cora isn’t supposed to be here. It’s a lie. A trick. They want me to open the channel between us to check. It has to be a ploy.
“They do what they must,” Dimitri says from the hatch.
“Why are you still here?” Conah snaps. “Don’t you have to go lick their asses.”
“Don’t you mean kiss?” Dimitri asks.
Conah rakes him over in disgust, sapphire eyes dark with anger. “No, I mean lick.”
Elijah coughs and pulls himself up, shackles clinking. “So much worse than an ass kisser.”
Dimitri frowns. “You can’t upset me. I do what I must for my masters. Whatever it takes to help them find their way home.”
Home? “Isn’t this their home?”
His eyes smirk. “You have no idea what they are.”
“We know exactly what they are,” Conah says. “The product of demon and human coupling. The first. The originals.”
He chuckles. “Wrong.”
Foreboding is a chilly hand at my nape. “What do you mean?”
His eyes light up. Oh yeah, he’s loving this, having all the attention. Being in control. Fuck it, I’ll let him have it, if it means answers. But I know his kind, he won’t cave easily. He won’t give up classified intel. I’ll have to goad him into it.
I exchange glances with Conah, and silent communication passes between us.
“Tell us what you know,” Conah demands.
Dimitri snorts. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”
“Leave it,” Elijah says. “He’s all hot air. Wants to look like he has a clue. He’s nothing. Just a minion. You think they’d confide important shit to him?”
Oh yes. Elijah is totally on board with the program. Get him riled up, off balance, and trick him into dropping his guard and letting something slip.
