“I thought you didn’t want to know today Amelia. Is that not what you said?”
“Yes, but that was before I found out Dahlia is a witch.”
“So, you want to know about witches, but not vampires?” he retorted, looking somewhat offended. “Let me tell you, witches are by far the more sinister of species.”
Dahlia thumped her palm on the table. “Really—do we suck the blood from people and leave them dead on filthy nightclub floors?”
“You hunt and kill just like us, you are no better!” His anger flashed.
Dahlia’s knuckles grew white, as her fists tightened. “You of all people do not get to judge us.”
Karson picked up a white napkin and wiped his lips and sat the napkin back down. Every movement was measured, leisurely. His face was blank, unreadable. His body seemingly relaxed, perfectly still, but his eyes never left Dahlia, and there was a viperous edge to them. “Oh, I of all people, am the one that is well enough versed to be judge, jury, and executioner of your kind.”
Dahlia’s jaw tensed. “Really and yet here I am at your table, eating your food.”
The air lit up like a pressure cooker. I couldn’t stand it.
“Stop it,” I said fiercely. All eyes turned to me, not so much in anger but more mildly surprised by my outburst. “Just stop it,” I said quieter this time.
“You can’t trust them,” Monique said, eyeing Dahlia with cynicism. “Why Karson? A witch, really—what would you be thinking.”
“Monique, I suggest you sit down.” If his tone was not enough to convince her, the look on his face should have been, but Monique ignored him.
“Are you insane? Send them back to their own people and let them take care of them,” Monique appealed, “don’t risk upsetting your people over a witch.”
Their people.Did she think I was a witch too? It was so ridiculous I had no words. A faint headache formed at the back of my skull, I rubbed my temple.
Dahlia threw Karson a sharp look.“My argument exactly.”
Monique stalked across the room and stood by the fireplace.
Karson took a sip of wine, holding the glass rested on the table in one hand. “And if I send you off to your people, Dahlia, and the vampires come, what do you think might be the outcome of a conflict?”
“He’s right,” Michael interjected, before Dahlia could respond. “We have had peace for years, it would be a shame to break it over something we can sort from the inside.”
“If the vampires come and attack then it’s cause to remove them. The treaty won’t be broken,” she spoke directly to Karson.
“Yes, well let’s just say my confidence levels of witches being able to handle vampires is not exactly overwhelming.”
“You have no idea,” Dahlia bit out.
“Oh, but I do Dahlia,” he responded, as patronising as it could get. “I have had centuries of dealing with your kind, far worse than today’s pathetic brew, and yet”—he threw out his arms—“here I am.”
Treaties? Centuries?I wanted to ask more, I opened my mouth and shut it again. Dahlia’s jaw clenched and she sat back stiffly as if she was perched on the cusp of exploding.
“I would recommend you reconsider whatever foolish notion you are thinking, Dahlia,” Karson warned, “no one wants to see anyone hurt.”
“How fast can you actually move, Michael?” I spoke quickly, in an effort to change the subject, which was heading nowhere good, fast.
Dahlia made a noise in her throat of anger. She took a few mouthfuls of wine, finishing off the glass.
“Not as fast as Karson, but fast enough to get myself out of trouble,” Michael answered.
Karson looked mildly pleased by his compliment.
“It’s a shame Karson’s common sense doesn’t match his physical attributes,” Monique sniped.
“Coming from the queen of ill-considered actions that has led us into many a pickle, near death being one, if my memory serves me correct. I will take your condemnation with a grain of salt.”
