Page 46 of Thicker than Water
For a full minute, I sit on my uncomfortable desk chair, holding the mirror up. My face is a map of my fears, and a horrible knot grows in my stomach.
The young witches don’t remember the War of the Final Fire or the Wicked Wars. But I do, and so do Lavinia and Callista. Ongoing conflicts are horrible. We lose dozens of witches, and other magical clans get caught in the bloodshed. During the Wicked Wars, countless young witches were lost, as well as the shifters and vampires who joined in on both sides. The vampires never forgave us for drawing them into our conflict. And now I’m worried that they’re planning to break from our alliance.
The numbers are horrible, but the death of my father sticks out in my mind. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes as he died. I had always thought he was invincible. It was impossible to imagine that he could just be gone in an instant. But he was. Now I can barely remember his face, or his laugh. It was so long ago, but it hangs over me like a cloud. He hadn’t wanted to go to war. He avoided it at all costs. But the Hecate coven had to participate. The stakes were too high.
I think of the music on the record player last night. How I wish I could talk to him about it.Father, you’ll never guess what I found…
But I’ll never be able to tell him.
Because of a war we shouldn’t have been in.
I’ll do anything I can to avoid another one. I have to. For my coven. For the memory of my father, who so badly wanted peace but never lived to see it.
I’m stationed in the lounge tonight, standing in for the other bartender, who called in sick. But I don’t mind the change of pace. After my conversation with Lavinia and Callista, I have a renewed sense of purpose. The club was starting to feel fun, especially my nights with Celine, but now I feel guilty and irresponsible for allowingmyself to forget about my true purpose here.
The lounge is slower and more calm than the club. It’s in the hotel proper, not a part of its seedy underbelly. Guests in well-tailored suits and long dresses slowly sip champagne and chat amicably in the dim light. I have no co-bartender, but I don’t need one, since it’s much slower. And my barback is much more useful. She doesn’t disappear for hours so that I have to fetch things myself. Instead of a DJ with dubious musical tastes, there’s a pianist who takes requests and accepts tips in a glass bowl.
It makes me think of when I caught Celine playing the piano in the event hall. I wonder if she’s playing now, in her crypt.
No, I’ve got to stop thinking about her. If her and Tudor had their way, the whole magical community would be torn apart by conflict. As much as I tried to deny it before, I know it’s true. Vampires thrive in bloodshed. I’ve witnessed three vampires be staked in my time here, and those were all relatively small feuds in the grand scheme of things.
Not to mention Hallie’s death. Although I have my own coven to blame for that.
My head starts to ache. I wish things weren’t so complex. I’m not made for politics and scheming. All I ever wanted was a simple, peaceful life in Hemlock Haven. My little bakery. The tourists. Teaching young witches how to cast spells and ride broomsticks. Now I’m undercover in a vampire bar, risking my life every day to protect them.
“What’s wrong?” says a low voice.
I jump, almost dropping the wine glass I was polishing. Why are vampires soquiet?
And it’s the last vampire I want to see right now. Celine. Her hair is up in a high ponytail, a single braid along the side of her head. She wears a sleeveless white blazer vest that goes down to her knees with a matching crop top and pants. Her shoes are high-heeled and pointy. I feel self-conscious in my two-day-old black slacks and the rumpled oxford that I pulled out of my locker when I heard I was supposed to be working in the lounge.
I wish she didn’t look so beautiful. And that she wasn’t so observant. It’s the last thing I need right now.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I tell her hastily. “What are you doing here?”
Shenarrows her eyes slightly. “This is my hotel. I was hosting my business partners.”
I’m certain that her definition of “business partner” is different than mine, but I’m not going to mention that.
I fight a complex internal battle for a minute. On one hand, Celine is my mortal enemy. If she found out who I am, she would immediately kill me, or torture me for information. I can’t forget that.
But on the other hand, I need information for my coven. Ishouldtake advantage of her interest in me. Lavinia would want me to find out anything I can about their potential plans, right?
Ugh, I feel sick at the thought of deceiving someone. Even a morally-depraved creature of the undead. But I have to do it.
“What business partners?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light and innocent.
“It’s not very interesting,” she responds, leaning against the bar and nodding her head toward a small group of suited guests as they exit the lounge. They don’t look like vampires or shifters. I don’t recognize them at all. Have I seen them in the club before? I’m aterriblespy.
“Maybe I would be interested,” I say, unconvincingly.
She gives me a skeptical look. “I don’t want to bore you.”
“Try me.” There’s nobody at the bar right now. It’s just the two of us. I put my elbows on the smooth, mahogany counter top. I have to admit, I don’t mind talking to Celine. Each time we’re together, I feel a stronger pull toward her. Although she never loses her terrifying, vampiric aura.
“All right,” she says. “Perhaps you’ve noticed it at the club. There’s a new street drug, illicit of course. It’s called glow. It looks like purple glitter.”
“I have noticed it,” I respond. This isn’t the sort of information I was expecting, but my interest is piqued.
