I just hope he doesn’t get in my way.
2
Chapter 2
Marcus
Thewomanisapain in the ass. Beautiful, no doubt about that, with those defiant emerald eyes and porcelain skin. But beauty isn’t something that impresses me after all these years.
There’s something about her. And I don’t know if it annoys me because it’s infuriating…or because I can’t ignore the appeal.
Kara’s accusations ring in my ears.“This is what vampires do – take what they want and destroy lives.”Her eyes had blazed with such conviction, such raw power. And that crackle when our skin had touched. What the hell was that? Not the trace of magic from the charm she’d been holding, I’m certain of it. Something else.
I stride into my penthouse, yanking off my jacket and tossing it onto a leather armchair. The city sprawls below throughthe windows that span the front of my apartment, a glittering expanse of lights that usually soothes my mind. Not tonight.
That witch. That infuriating, captivating witch.
I pour myself a glass of bourbon, though alcohol does little for our kind. The familiar burn is welcome as I down it in one swallow.
“Computer, display Evelyn Blackwood’s file.” The smart glass windows along one wall shift, overlaying text and images. The Blackwood matriarch’s face appears alongside details of her position on the Conclave, known associates, recent movements. Her features are smooth, ageless, and even in her advanced years, as beautiful as her granddaughters.
I frown at the photo, remembering the flashing images I’d picked up from the crystal charm earlier.
I close my eyes, focusing on the lingering hints of magic I’d sensed at the Blackwood home. The images flash through my mind – snippets of dark corridors, stone walls slick with moisture, the sharp tang of saltwater. Underground passages near the harbor, perhaps? But then the scene shifts – an abandoned factory with broken windows, metal staircases winding upward. Another flash – an assembly of steel that makes no sense.
Damn it.Lucien’s moving her, making it impossible to get a fix on their location.
I press my fingers to my temples, trying to hold on to the fragments. Five hundred years of tracking has honed my ability to sense magical traces, but Lucien knows how to counter such talents. He’s an old hand at this game.
My phone buzzes. Lake Blackwood’s name appears on the screen with a text.
Any progress?
I type out a response.
He’s moving her through different locations. I’m getting flashes, but nothing concrete enough to track.
His response comes soon after.
Conclave gathering tonight. Georgia and I are headed there now. Need both councils together on this. Can you pull some strings from your side?
I give a grunt. I have some influence now that I’m stepping into Darick’s shoes, but it remains to be seen how far that extends.
Probably. If Arabella’s in the mood.
He responds with a thumbs-up, and the text string ends. I rub a hand along my jawline, scowling at the still-lit screen. The Blackwood man was dead-set against us but seems to be coming around. Let’s hope his daughter sees sense soon, too.
Still frowning at my phone, I shoot off a text to the kid who handles our tech.
Pull up any footage you can find around vampire territories near water.
It’s a long shot, but it might bear some fruit if I can narrow the field down.
I pour another bourbon, trying to shake the memory of Kara’s scent – rose petals in the sunshine; I can’t remember the last time I smelled anything touched by the sun. Her power had been strangely electrifying, leaving traces that still linger. Damn witch. Everything about her sets my teeth on edge – that sharp tongue, the way she holds herself like she’s ready for battle, those flashing green eyes full of contempt.
And yet…
The door clicks open. Darick’s familiar footsteps cross the polished floor.
