“None as bad as sheltering a witch in my home,” she shot back. “Do you realise the?—”
“Perhaps!” Michael cut her off, raising his voice. “The two of you can continue your childish discussions at another time. I’m sure Amelia and Dahlia would like to have at least some peace over dinner.”
Dahlia glanced up, lifted a hand and sailed the plate of mashed potatoes down to herself. She grasped it, placing it on the table and began to dish up a spoonful.
“I can’t say I’m a particular fan of your species, but I do like your style, Dahlia,” Michael said, attempting to build on the peace. “I find your kind’s abilities most intriguing.”
“I’m flattered,” Dahlia glowered, like she wasn’t flattered at all, and kept eating.
Monique sighed. “If you will excuse me. I’m heading to the sitting room, it’s a little stifling in here.” In a smooth blur shewas gone. The tension from the table left with her. I collected pieces of carrot off the table and sat them on the edge of my plate and took a bite of pumpkin.
I watched Dahlia summon the wine bottle down to pour another drink.
“Well, Dahlia.” I watched in amazement and awe. "I think it’s safe to say we are not exactly the same.”
She stopped the fork as it was about to enter her mouth. “Yes, Amy, we are, you’re a witch too.”
I thought she was joking so I laughed. The room seemed to still and I was conscious everyone was looking at me, the laughter died, and I felt my face color. Rubbish, there was no way. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I was going to wait until you were . . .” She paused, fluttering out a hand as if trying to find a suitable response. “A little less rattled, but now seems as good a time as any. You are just like me, you just don’t know it yet, it’s my job to train you.”
Not once in my entire life had there been a hint of any special abilities.
“Stop it, Dahlia you’re . . .” I searched or the right words in my own head, scrambled around and found none. She’d clearly made a mistake, or she was bat-shit crazy. I was leaning towards the latter. I finished my glass of wine.
Karson was analyzing my face, his face mysterious, broody, dark, as if he was considering her claims. It was enough to settle knots in my belly.
“Surely, Karson, you don’t think . . . for goodness sakes,” I said defensively.
Karson stood up walked down, refilled my glass of wine, making it a little larger than normal.
“I think your mind is just opening to a world you didn’t know existed this time yesterday,” he answered, non-committal.
I took a large gulp of wine. I was no more a witch, whatever the hell that actually meant, than a vampire. My head started to throb like it was all too much for it. I changed the subject.
“What time are you leaving tonight?”
“As soon as it’s dark,” he answered, seating himself back at the table. “We’ll drive back to Church Heights when I get back, but don’t wait up, I’ll wake you if I'm late.”
“It’s over a twelve hour drive, you’ll be tired. I can fly home in the morning, and you can stay here.” Here with all the other vampires. I didn’t know what it meant for me, where I would go now, if I could even stay in Church Heights. I loved living with Ethan. I did love living with him. I considered him a friend—had considered him a friend. I should have known, like every friendship I’ve ever had it would fall apart.
“It will take less than six hours at night, and I do not tire like humans.”
I shot my eyebrows up. “Six hours. Karson, it’s what, a thousand miles away? You would need to be doing nearly two-hundred miles-per-hour. I’m not travelling with you at those speeds.”
“Your maths needs some work,” he replied, carving through a piece of meat. “And you will be perfectly safe, I have above average driving skills.”
“Of course you do,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “Don’t you sleep then?”
“Yes, but I only need a few hours, I’ll sleep once we arrive.” He forked the red, slimy lamb into his mouth.
I couldn't eat anymore. My stomach churned. The thought of what they were heading out to do rested heavy against my soul. I couldn’t help but feel partly responsible.
I stood up. “If you will excuse me."
Karson frowned, and glanced at my hardly touched plate. I moved to the sitting room, wine in hand. Monique was standingby the fireplace, she threw me an annoyed glance and promptly strutted from the room.
I lowered myself to the couch, Dahlia joined me not long after. I could hear the faint murmur of their voices. I guessed they were talking about the plans to murder people. Vampires. I swirled the wine around in the glass, watching the red smear rise around the edges and fall back down again, twisted, rise and fall, twisted, rise and fall.
