Page 17 of Fated to the Vampire Prince
“Indeed.”
With a stony expression, he offered me his arm, and with hesitance, I took it. Walking with halting steps toward the entrance of the inn. My heart was a drum in my chest, beating out a too fast rhythm when we entered. I forced myself to pay attention to every little detail. Inside, it was warm, and smoke from the fire burned my eyes. Magicked lanterns hung above trestle tables, overflowing with food, drink, and Bastien’s guard.
I counted three red-haired women moving through the dining room, serving drinks and stew. Surely there were more lurking in the shadows. I caught one of the witches staring at me, and a bolt of fear lanced through my heart.
“Do you want to wash before dinner?” Bastien asked, speaking close so I could hear him over the sound of a lute and the low hum of conversation. “I had your trunk brought inside.”
I hesitated. While hiding upstairs to collect my nerve sounded appealing, I needed to take control of my fear. No one was going to hurt me. They wouldn’t dare. And as disgusting as I was after four days on the road, so was Bastien. And so was his guard. Even Okeri and Tyson were seated beside the fire. Her, eating. Him, sipping wine.
If I was going to earn an ounce of credibility, I had to show strength. “No. I’m fine. I-I should eat.”
“Look at that. Something we agree on.” He gave me a pleasant smile. I scowled back at him. Bastien guided me to theback of the establishment, close to the fire and a grimy window that overlooked the lake, where Natalia sat waiting.
She was enjoying a glass of wine with one of her booted feet propped up on the bench. She was the kind of beautiful that was sharp and intimidating. With her thick braid and high cheekbones. However, the red welt Sera had given her was healed.
I sat across from her, avoiding her eye, and Bastien took his place beside me on the bench. I wanted to ask Natalia how Sera got off after the ball but was distracted by the presence of two Dark Witches. My pulse, already pounding in my ears, quickened like I was running uphill. A young witch with copper hair set a glass of wine down in front of the vampire and placed a mug of what appeared to be mead before me. I had no love for the sickly sweet flavor and turned my nose up at it. Another witch set down a trencher of bread covered in steaming hot stew, which was arguably harder to ignore.
She handed me a fork and said, “Enjoy, Miss.” I recoiled. Sliding closer to the vampire beside me. My shoulder pressed into Bastien’s, his thigh a solid line against mine. Even through layers of wool, I could feel his unnatural coolness.
My fear of these witches was as real as the chunks of meat in the stew, and my insides crawled with disgust despite how hungry I was.
When the witch left for the kitchen, I tracked her movement. When she was gone, I shifted in my seat so that I was no longer touching the Duke. I skeptically eyed a pair of witches as Bastien passed them a silver coin. He shouldn’t be paying them. He should have their heads on spikes outside his castle gates.
One of the witches pointed to the itchy scabs on my neck—the ones that Mama’s choker had cut into my skin—and muttered something to the other. “We can have Grannyprepare a poultice for those wounds to prevent infection, Miss.”
“No!” I replied too loudly, wary of anything they might give me. But the strange looks I was receiving from my vampire companions forced me to clarify. I lifted my hand to the choker, playing my part. “No more dabbling in magick, I meant to say. I’ve learned my lesson. I can heal on my own.”
Bastien covered my hand with his, his fingers curling around my palm, and gave me an encouraging squeeze. I stared at the place where our hands were joined, unmoving. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t apologize, or tell me I was being irrational. He justtouchedme. His presence warmed my entire body, despite the temperature of his skin. It was strange having this vampire comfort me when I was scared. No one did that for me. No one but Sera.
I reminded myself that he wasn’t doing it for my benefit but out of self-interest. He was hungry. Above all else, I had to keep that in perspective. He was using me just as much as I was using him.
“A poultice isn’t magick, Miss,” the witch tried to clarify. “Just a bundle of garden herbs steeped in Gran’s special tea.”
Gran’s special tea, indeed.
At least she still hadherGran. Mine had beenkilledby one of them: a dark spell fired directly at her chest, turning her heart to graveworms. Bastien dragged his thumb across the back of my wrist in a slow, soothing motion. I drew in a steadying breath, and refocused on my mission. Not the comfort his touch elicited.
I didn’t believe the witch for a second. She was just saving face in front of the Duke. All my coven’s healing magick was born from the power in their blood and the gift of Diana’s blessing from the moon, like when Sera performed the painrelief spell. I didn’t want to be infected with whatever demonic magick they infused into their healing salves.
But just because I took it didn’t mean I’d have to use it. I swallowed my fear and my malice and offered the girl a smile that I hoped looked more like a snarl. “In that case, any help would be very welcome.”
She curtsied and hurried off. My grin flattened as soon as her back was turned. The words were sandpaper on my tongue. Asking a Dark Witch for help, even if I didn’t intend to use it, went against everything I’d ever been taught.
Bastien removed his hand from mine once they were gone, and I quickly placed mine in my lap. He went back to ignoring me, conversing with Natalia in their language. Even though I didn’t understand Sanguisi, I could tell by the way they were talking and shooting glances at the boisterous red-haired woman with the ladle that it was about her. What did he call the witch?Shreesa? Yes. That was it.
I didn’t let my attention linger on her. Instead, I decided to take in my surroundings. To the right was a set of stairs across the dining room, and to the left, a door that likely went to a kitchen. Other than the floating lanterns, there was little in the way of magick happening out here. The stuffed crows, bats, owls, and elk adorning the walls were a strange decor choice, but seemed harmless. I spied several smaller buildings through the grimy window, all with orange light glowing from their windows. I wondered if that was where they hid their relics and did their dark witchery. From everything Sera told me, the Dark Witches concealed the relics in unlikely places, guarded with protection spells and traps.
Without magick, I couldn’t hunt for them and undo the spells, but I was very good at being invisible. After years of being turned away from countless coven meetings, mycuriosity demanded I learn to be silent. I’d gotten so good at it that my grandmother had called me theGhost of Prideaux Hill.
A sudden rush of sadness made my throat constrict. Now,shewas the ghost. It was easier to be angry than afraid. And I was very angry with these agents of darkness. I sat silent for a time, alone, even in a room filled with people, allowing the web of thoughts in my head time to untangle. I was jolted back to the present when Bastien’s cool breath grazed my temple, his lips so close to the shell of my ear. I pressed mine together and closed my eyes to keep from gasping.
Each one of his slow exhales against my skin did something to me I couldn’t explain. It was the same reaction I had the night of the ball. A warm pull of desire inside my core that curled its fingers around some primal need. He hadn’t even touched me, but the soft place between my thighs reacted as if he had. A buzz of anticipation had me squeezing them together.
I had to do something to stop my body’s reaction to him.
“Eat,” he commanded.
The word a whisper against my skin. A slow wave of desire rolled through me, sending heat into my cheeks.
