He shakes his head. “I don’t, but I know someone who does. Someone with a long memory.”
“Who? What does that mean?”
He takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to convince himself to tell me. “Maybe Elric, in his rage…forgot one.”
My eyes widen, and I can only fathom what my mate is feeling in our bond. I try to calm myself but fail; my eyes welling with tears. “One of the ones who cursed him?”
Cartiel’s eyes meet mine and, for once, they don’t flick away. “No, not directly. There’s more to the story than maybe even he knows. I doubt there was much humanity to be found on either side that night.” I swallow hard, trying to steady my shaking as I brace myself for another deafening blow. “One witch was with child, Molly. A child born from her mother’s corpse.”
My stomach churns as I press my hands to it.
“She survived. How?”
He simply stares.
“How? It doesn’t make sense, nothing I read claimed witches to be immortal; that would be…over seven hundred years.”
“That’s not my story to tell. If there’s anyone that can end this…it would be her.”
Apprehension fills me, only further upsetting my stomach. “Would she? They certainly didn’t help me then.” I take a step back, unease pulsing my chest. “They killed me, simply for being his mate. For just wanting a child.”
He shifts on his feet. “I know nothing more than that. Nor do I care enough to sit here while you toddle with your thoughts. You either take the lead or not; it matters little either way.”
He turns on his heel, heading toward the stairs when I lurch forward. “Wait! If you hadn’t noticed, I can’t simplyhiketo her. What good does this do me?”
“I could tell her, obviously.”
“Stop being rude.”
He just glares. “Write her something quick. I’ll pass it along if I have time.”
My eyes snap to my sketchbook before embarrassment sends color flooding my cheeks. “I-I’m not so good at that yet.”
He heaves a sigh, like my illiteracy is just a terrible inconvenience to him.
“I’ll pass along who you are and what you want.”
“Is that…wise? Hang on, maybe we should think about this more.”
He waves me off. “All anyone can talk about is the legend of the Vampire of Port Clyde, all but confirmed to be true now that you’re here. How young women go to his castle and never come out alive? I’m sure she already knows he’s taken another one. I’m sure she knows exactly what that means. You’re telling her nothing she hadn’t already gleaned.”
Spoken like someone who knows…
He leaves with that, and my mind is reeling too hard to stop him. I step back until the backs of my knees hit the bed, forcing me to sit. I’m barely lucid when Péal rushes in shortly after, displaying her hands in front of her as a sharp buzz of energy crackles in the room. Where there had been traces of summer before, there is only the smell of the ocean, the sand, and salt.
I quirk a brow at her.
“It’s projection. Like what I do with the water, only instead of taking it, I just borrow some of its essence. I can’t say it’ll completelymask the scent of him, but it’s better than nothing. Did you find what you were looking for?”
I frown. “I’m not sure yet.”
She just nods, her hair windswept. It’s then that I realize she was acting as some kind of lookout. My heart warms for the sweet woman.
My friend, the only one I think I’ve ever had.
I got what I wanted, though, at least a good start to it. So why don’t I feel even an iota of the relief I thought I would? Why does it feel like I’ve just made a huge mistake?
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