“It appears so.”
“For the love of creation,” Michael bit out, sounding weary to the bone. “We have threats to face outside these walls without worrying about family being one of them.”
Monique ignored Michael; her focus was on Karson. “You would choose a witch over your own kind?” Her voice cracked—was that tears I saw in her eyes? “Over someone who has been loyal to you, who has treated you like a brother for centuries?”
Karson rose and stalked closer, looming over her. “It is not a choice I want to be forced to make. It is you who keeps this hatred in your heart for a woman who has done nothing to harm you.”
She jutted her chin up, fury still burning in her eyes. Fury and pain. “All witches harm in the end.”
“I don’t want to harm anyone.” I hated how small my voice sounded. “Let alone the man I love and the people he loves … the ones I care for too.” My face burned, realizing what I’d said. God, by declaring I loved him out loud, I’d just made a fool of myself in front of everyone.
Karson stepped back, his attention shifting to the window, as if uncomfortable.
Monique shifted her steely gaze to me. “You’re a born warrior. Your heart is dark, even if you hide it behind smoke and mirrors.”
I was pleased I sounded stronger this time. “You’re a vampire. You know darkness too. It doesn’t make you anything you choose not to be.”
She laughed, but it was bitter. “You say you love him, but if you truly loved him, you’d leave.”
“Enough!” Karson roared so loud I jumped.
“Karson,” Michael said quickly. “I suggest you try to remain calm. We are all tired and our emotions are heightened right now.”
“I suggest you get out of my sight, Monique,” Karson snarled, his white fangs glinting. “Before I show you the darkness I have inside and do something I regret.”
Monique glared at him for a few moments, hurt and fury mingled in her features, then turned and strode from the room. Not before I noticed the tear sliding down her face.
I slumped against the couch. “Why does she hate witches so much?” Me so much.
Karson paced the room, his jaw taut.
Michael sighed deeply and sank to the couch opposite me. “When Karson discovered Monique, she had been beaten and then stabbed, barely alive. He turned her. She had a little sister, so Karson took her in until Monique was strong enough to handle the drive for blood. She was going to ask Karson to change her as soon as she was old enough.” His voice shifted to something grave. “Monique was friends with a witch she met while working in a tavern, and she thought she could trust her. In those days, witches actively hunted vampires. The witch told the coven what Monique was, whether by force or willingly, we can’t be sure.” He shook his head sadly. “But they came looking for Monique and found Sophia. She was only thirteen, she wasn’t a vampire, but they killed her anyway.”
My chest twisted. “Oh God, that’s horrific.”
He lifted his concerned gaze to Karson, who was staring out of the window, lost to the past torment somewhere.
Michael looked back to me. “We all have stories where we lost people we love to witches, just as witches have stories of losing family and friends to vampires. The war passed many years ago, and for most of your kind the stories of murderand loss are passed down through the generations. But for the immortal souls, the torment and pain still live and breathe inside of us, despite the years that have gone.”
I was a witch who worked in a bar. I must remind Monique of the friend who betrayed her. No wonder she was less than fond of me.
“The witches that committed those crimes are long dead. I would never do anything like that.”
“I know,” Michael responded, “as does Karson. Monique will come around, if you give her time.”
“Will I die of old age before she does?” I tried to lighten the mood.
Michael smiled. “I should hope not.”
Karson swung to look at me, anguish in his eyes.
Chapter 22
Darkness Is Where The Monsters Live
The kids ate the pancakes Mary had cooked for them at the dining table in the kitchen, heads bowed. Their eyes were hollow with grief. Their nightwear still on, their feet bare. Lottie’s teddy was propped on the chair beside her.
Mary fussed about, while I sat at the counter drinking tea and tried to make small talk with them. They answered glumly.
