Page 135 of Samhain Savior
But another, very insistent part of me wanted her to take her filthy vampire hands off my diamond.
Lifting my hand, I slowly inched closer to the stone, feeling the turbulent vices it contained rise up within me.
Pride. Gluttony. Lust.
Each one strong and powerful, but not as powerful as my own control. My own ability to feel them, acknowledge them, and still keep them at bay.
Genevieve sucked in a sharp breath, her fist releasing the diamond and its string of pearls as though it had burned her, then scrambled back. Instinctively, my own fingers curled around it, and for one interminable second, I felt nothing but the power of those sins.
For a heartbeat, I wasn’t myself at all. Not the fledgling witch. Not the lost daughter. Not even a demon’s mate.
No. I was gluttony incarnate, pride searing through my veins, lust surging hot and relentless. My fingers ached to crush the stone into my skin, to let it hollow me out and fill me with nothing but eternal hunger.
Then, my magic surged back, light and dark together, rising like a tide. The diamond shuddered in my grip, and I caged it with sheer will, leaving it humming in quiet submission.
“C'est fait,” Genevieve breathed, her whole body seeming to shrink a little now that the burden of the stonewas no longer hers to carry. Blinking, she shook her head slightly, ran her palms down what remained of her beautiful gown, and then turned to Archer. “Dawn approaches. If you please, I would like to return to my estate house. I’ll ask that you dispose of your…addition to my garden.” She cast a baleful look at the wall of shadows that Archer had erected, the hint of fear in her eyes betraying her outward composure.
Archer stared at her, his expression cold, but after a few seconds of allowing her to squirm, he made a dismissive gesture and the shadows retreated, the waxy leaves of the boxwood hedge once again visible in the moonlight.
As soon as the walls were down, the clearing was flooded with vampires, some racing to stand beside their queen, others clearly ready to fight. Archer met them with posturing of his own, and I could practically smell the aggression pouring off them all. But before anything could get out of control, Genevieve raised one delicate hand, halting all her minions in their tracks.
“C'est assez,” she said quietly, not even acknowledging the confused stares of her people. “Return to the estate. These…friends are all free to leave.” She said it so reluctantly it was a wonder anyone believed her. “Those three, however,” she added, pointing to the three witches of the Order who still stood in the clearing, huddled together. “They come with us.”
Immediately, the witches were snatched up, taken hostage, and marched back into the maze, on their way to the house, and what I could only assume would be a swift and painful end.
My face must have shown what I was feeling, because Genevieve turned to me, arching one imperious eyebrow as she pursed her lips.
“You disapprove?” she asked.
“I understand,” I allowed, knowing I was in no position to preach ethics to a Queen of the Night.
“Can I trust that you will deal with them appropriately?” Archer questioned, clearly reluctant to allow anyone else to handle the members of the Order who had caused nothing but trouble.
“They came to my home, uninvited,” she replied, her words clipped, as she glanced over her shoulder. Behind her, the sky had begun to lighten, the faintest bruising over the tops of the neighboring houses reminding us all that morning was upon us. “Our nest may be a hive of chaos and death, but it exists onmyterms, not theirs. They will learn what a mistake they have made this night.”
The certainty in her voice left no doubt—the witches wouldn’t live to see another dawn. Apart of me pitied them; monsters they might be, but they’d only stumbled into the wrong nest at the wrong time.
And yet…wasn’t that a kind of justice, too? You kick a hornet’s nest and you have to pay the price. My stomach twisted, caught between sorrow for their fate and the uneasy knowledge that they would have gladly handed me to the Order without a second thought.
Sensing my distress, Archer sent a pulse of reassurance through the bond, a reminder that some things were beyond either of our control.
“Don’t forget about your own mistakes, and the price you’ll pay for them,” Mex reminded Genevieve, her words causing a small shiver to run through the Queen.
“Name the place, Duchess,” she replied primly. “And you’ll get your payment.”
Offering a cruel, yet beautiful smile, Genevieve spun on her heel, following the last of her people and a still weeping Orla out of the maze as they fled the sunrise.
A sunrise that meant Samhain was nearly upon us.
“I don’t know about you all,” Vine cut in. “But I could really use a drink.”
“Agreed,” Mex muttered, her eyes still on the opening in the greenery where Genevieve had disappeared. “Let’s go to the club. I need out of this dress.”
I couldn’t have agreed more.
A short while later, I was showered and clothed—once again, in borrowed items—and holding a large mug of chicory coffee with an even larger dollop of whiskey, staring at the diamond as it sat on the table before me.
TheHullabaloo Clubwas quiet at this early hour, shadows stretched long across the mahogany bar. Outside, the streets of New Orleans hummed with activity, the tourists and locals alike lending their voices to the song of the city. But inside, the six of us sat in near silence, our thoughts on the night we’d just had…and on what was still yet to come.
