Page 129 of Bitten & Burned
Anton’s gaze cut to me, searching, but he didn’t speak. Not yet.
“A brand,” I said. “My father gave it to me when I came of age. Thirteen.”
“Thirteen’s not ‘of age’,” Vael stated, as if I didn’t already know.
“In the Ashborne family, it is,” I replied.
“That’s not just a name, is it?” Anton said after a beat. “You’re really one of them. One of the hunters.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I am. Iwas.”
“They hunted vampires,” Vael said, as if he couldn’t believe it.
I nodded again. “Cosmic fucking joke, right? The brand was supposed to keep us from turning.” I tapped my chest. “Didn’t exactly take.”
Vael’s eyes darkened. “And Rowena’s wound… It’s the same mark.”He ran a hand over his face. “That explains why I never found anything in the archives. Old blood magic. Bound by bloodline. It wouldn’t be written anywhere unless?—”
“Unless you were one of us,” I filled in.
“Butnow…” Anton began.
“Now, you’ve got me,” I said. “So ask your questions. I’ll tell you what I can.”
Vael didn’t hesitate. “How did it end up on her?”
“I don’t know,” I said—and gods, the truth scraped my throat raw. “I don’t know. I just know it’s mine. And she’s hurting. And I was too much of a coward to tell her.”
“I don’t know that you’re a coward for that. You didn’t know how to tell her, but you’re going to… so we need to know as much as we can when you do go to her with this,” Vael said.
We three sat in silence for a few moments before Anton spoke, blurting the words as if they’d just come to him seconds before.
“The amulet!”
“What about it?” I asked.
He exhaled sharply. “What does that have to do with it? You must know, is it an Ashborne relic?”
“No idea,” I muttered. “If it’s a relic, it’s one I never saw.”
Vael’s expression hardened once more, as if he were coming to grips with a decision he’d already made. “Then we need someone who can inspect it properly. The only person I know with the skill is Ambrose Marlowe.”
My head jerked up. “The silversmith? Wait—Marlowe, is he related to?—”
Vael’s mouth tightened. “He’s Rowena’s father.”
Anton exhaled. “Gods, we’re just learning so many things about each other today…”
I blinked. “Her father is Ambrose Marlowe? Why wouldn’t she say something?”
Vael’s gaze cut to mine. “Why didn’t you say anything about being an Ashborne vampire hunter?”
I flinched.
“That’s different,” I muttered. “Ambrose Marlowe is famously skilled. Gods, I thought his children would’ve followed in his footsteps.”
“Rowena didn’t want to,” Vael said evenly. “It’s a sore spot.”
“Oh.”
